SPN; What Falls From The Sky Is Not The Rain (3/?)
Chapter 3 is up, 4 is in beta/editing and 5 is being written -- though I'm a little sick right now so ch5 is coming slower than I'd like. I reeeally hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. :3 I haven’t gotten many reviews, so I don’t know if that means y’all hate it and I should just .. not even bother or not. I’m really quite nervous since I know this isn’t your average ‘casefic they get together’ type of story. :3 Bleh.
And of course, I would not be doing this without demonichate, who is awesome enough to beta my story and support it. <3333333333
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Title: What Falls From The Sky Is Not The Rain
Rating: PG-13 for now
Pairing: Eventual Dean/Castiel
Word Count: 4,197
Warning: Spoilers for S5 finale (5x22) & eventual S6, language
Disclaimer: Not mine, not ever ;A;
Summary: In a split-second, Dean makes a decision that drastically changes everything he knows -- including himself.
A/N: I will eventually, hopefully, be sprinkling in some season 6 plot as well, but overall this will likely wind up being a fix-it for the 6th season. Anyway, like I said before, this is my first heavy plotted fic for this series, so please be gentle. :3 I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this .. but don’t worry, I don’t plan on making anyone evil. :3
Sigillum Diaboli
‘you smiled like an angel, fallen from grace’
CHAPTER 3
Dean wakes with a start, gasping and arching, green eyes wide and unseeing for many moments as his vision clears and he takes stock of the white clouds drifting overhead and the faint rustle of leaves, the chirping of birds he hears around where he lays, still and unmoving. He doesn't even remember how he got out; one moment he's laying on the ground of the cage, Michael's sword jammed in his stomach and the next he's staring up at the bright blue sky above him, and goddamn it’s the most beautiful fucking sight he’s seen in a long, long time.
Dean lays there a moment, confused and baffled before slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position, then looks down at himself and notices the wounds he'd suffered at the hands of Michael while in the cage are long gone, not even a scar. His eyes scan the area and he snorts softly at the irony that he's back where he started.
"I really gotta stop wakin' up in cemeteries." He mutters to himself as he stands, body stretching and feeling as if it's not been used in a good long while.
The sudden displacement of air has him turning just in time to see Castiel arrive, his smooth dark wings spread out behind him as he lands, and ain’t he a sight for sore eyes. In only a few strides Dean is there in his space and enveloping Cas in a tight hug, half burying his face into the man's shoulder. "So damn glad to see you, Cas."
It takes Castiel a moment to return the hug, and then he's gripping him just as tight, letting out a shaky breath of relief as he thanks God that Dean is alright. They don't let go for a long moment, and when Dean pulls away Castiel lets him, even if he doesn't want to let go just yet, almost fearing this might be some strange wild dream -- even if Angels don't sleep.
"How long've I been gone, Cas?"
"A full year."
"Jesus .." Dean mutters, running a hand over his face as he looks over the new layer of grass that's sprung up from the cage's door in that time.
It's when Dean looks back over to Cas that he takes in his large black wings for the first time, and really sees them. He's seen the shadows of them before, like when they first met and how terrifying it had made Cas, Castiel to him then, seem. But now they look more beautiful than frightening. Without thinking he's reaching over Cas' shoulders to touch them, pads of his fingers running down the length of a feather, watching in wondrous awe as they move and flutter from the touch, one which makes Castiel shiver in response.
Castiel's never thought about what Dean would think if he ever saw his wings. They were not something normal humans could perceive. Dean is no normal human now, not anymore, so it makes sense that he can see their true form without trouble. But to feel Dean touching them, moving over each feather and the arch of bone in a tender caress makes his breath hitch and let out a soundless moan. "Dean."
After a moment Dean's hand retreats and his face carries a light flush as he grins, "Sorry, it's just .. never seen 'em like that before. They're cool, really cool."
Castiel can't help the answering smile that crosses his own face, the tips of his ears a little pink. "Thank you, but Dean .. now that you're here, the other Angels will be coming for you. They've already sensed your presence, it is how I knew you'd returned. I will need to re-map the runes on your ribs. They do not work as they once did when you were .. human."
Dean's expression shifts from joyous to carefully blank as he nods. "Alright, what do you need to do? Same as last time, right?"
"Yes .. it will hurt, and will take longer than before. These specific runes have not been used in many thousands of years, and I will need to .." He pauses and tilts his head. "Improvise. I will then be the only Angel able to find you."
"Jesus, Cas, possessive much?" He says jokingly.
Castiel's lips upturn into a small, barely there smirk. "Yes, I am."
Without warning Castiel presses his left hand forward, burying it inside of Dean's body. A choked scream erupts from the other man as his knees buckle from the searing pain shooting through his chest, surging outward. Castiel grips his shoulder with his right hand and slowly lowers Dean to the ground.
"Dean, please don't move." Castiel says, but Dean thrashes anyway because holy fuck it feels like his soul is being ripped from his body, the pain more intense than anything he can ever remember feeling.
"C-Cas .." He grounds out, voice rough with pain as his hands grip at Castiel, fists in his shirt and jacket, the other gripping the arm wrist deep in his chest, the light shining from it is in his peripheral vision. But it hurts so fucking bad, like he's dying a thousand deaths, like he can feel himself flying apart.
"Dean, please stop moving .. I cannot stop now that I've begun." Castiel says, voice a stern command, but when Dean doesn't stop -- and he feels guilty for hurting Dean like this -- the angel moves and sits astride Dean's thighs, legs locking around them to keep Dean from further moving, and it helps.
"Hurts .." Dean chokes out, and in a tender gesture Castiel leans down and rests his forehead against Dean's own in what he hopes is at least a little comforting.
"I know, Dean .. I'm sorry .. I do not wish to hurt you like this, but it is necessary."
Being this close to Dean, Castiel thinks he is the most beautiful creature God has ever made. His green eyes are wide and shining and he can see the power that swirls beneath their depths and it makes them all the more mesmerizing. He can see the many thousands of freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and the apple of his cheeks and wonders if he has time to count them all.
When their eyes lock Dean can see their vivid brightness, the way they glow slightly with the power he is using to infuse the runes into his bones. He finds himself matching Castiel's breaths without realizing it, the slow steady in-and-out, feeling it fan against his lips and mingle with his own. It feels like it lasts forever, caught up in this moment of surprising serenity.
Then suddenly it's over, and Castiel is sitting up and slowly pulling his hand from Dean's chest, resting it lightly where his heart beats and he finds pleasure in feeling it rabbit-quick beneath his fingers. Proof that Dean is here, alive. Dean lays there, staring up at Cas and panting as he tries to calm down, the pain slowly receding now that it's done. Castiel has yet to move from his precarious position, wholly bewitched by Dean's green eyes, even when Dean shifts and pushes himself up onto his forearms.
"Not that I mind the view or anything, but you gonna get off any time soon?"
"I .. beg your pardon?" Castiel asks, finally snapping out of whatever trance he was in as he shifts back a little, to where he's not nearly so close now.
"Off me, are you gonna get up? 'Cause I kinda can't feel my legs anymore." He says, giving the other man a small cheeky grin.
It’s as if Castiel has finally noticed their position and quickly gets up from Dean, stepping back, smoothing his clothes and Dean swears he can see the color crossing the man's face as he all but looks at him.
"My apologies, Dean."
"S'alright, gotta do what you gotta do right? No harm, no foul." Dean replies easily as he gets up from the ground, brushes the dirt off and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans.
Castiel gives a short nod of understanding. "We should leave. They might not be able to find you any longer, but they know this is where you arrived. They will be coming here."
"Okay, I know the perfect place to head to then." Dean says, and then promptly disappears.
Castiel stiffens slightly, an annoyed expression crossing his face as he huffs irritably and disappears as well to follow, glad he is able to sense Dean’s presence with little trouble.
‡ ‡ ‡
The evening finds Dean sitting in the booth of a local diner in the middle of nowhere, USA with the newspaper spread out in front of him slightly to the left, there's a cup of steaming hot coffee to his right and a glance at the clock tells him it’s only a quarter past five. He hasn't ordered his food yet, having told the waitress, cute lil thing that she is, he's waiting for a friend.
"You know the best part about all this shit, Cas?" He says without looking up. "The fact that you don't scare the shit out of me anymore when you just show up like that."
"I don't?"
Dean doesn't need to see to know Cas is doing that whole puppy-dog-head-tilt thing at him, and if he's honest with himself, it's kind of adorable. "Nope, I just feel you."
"Feel me?" Castiel asks, brow arching in confusion. When Dean does look up he notices the very tips of Cas' ears have tinged pink.
"I -- you know, I mean, your presence. I can feel it before you show up, so I know it's you. That's all." He shrugs and pointedly looks back down at the paper though he's not really reading it anymore, doesn't even remember what he was looking for in the first place. It just seems a very .. normal .. thing to do, despite the fact he is anything but anymore.
"Aah." Castiel murmurs, then seems to remember he was supposed to be irritated with the man sitting across from him. "You shouldn't do that, Dean .. you've just returned."
Dean just grins at him as he leans back casually in the booth, one arm stretching across the back of it. "Don't like it when people just disappear on you, do ya?" He says, "I didn't either." With that he gives Cas a slightly pointed look to which the angel actually looks a little sheepish.
"It will not happen again."
Dean nods and reaches for his coffee, bringing it to his lips to blow on it before taking a sip -- only to reel back. "The fuck?! It's freez -- holy shit it's frozen .." He then upturns the cup, watching in amazed disbelief as nothing comes out. The coffee is frozen solid and stuck within the mug.
Castiel tries his best to hide the amused smile that crosses his face.
"I just froze my goddamn coffee .. how the hell does one even do that?"
"That's exactly how, Dean .. hell. Lucifer's abilities are now your own." Castiel says, not only reminding Dean but himself as well. Dean is different now, no longer human and no longer the Righteous Man he had proclaimed to follow. Yet he came the moment he felt Dean's presence back on Earth and here he still sits. It's more than the desire to serve that keeps him by Dean's side. He knows what it is, has had a full year to come to the realization -- but it's not something he can allow himself to have or feel. It's blasphemous that he even allows himself to recognize these feelings in the first place.
"The hell are you -- oh." Dean remembers, vaguely, seeing Lucifer frost the window with his breath when they first met, the way the room chilled with his mere presence. "Well, looks like I'm gonna have to work on that then." He gives the frozen mug a small scowl before setting it down and touching the side of its chilled surface, focusing intently. Dean watches with interest the way the coffee seems to melt from the frozen mass inside and grins triumphantly. The grin turns into an expression of slight panic when the coffee starts to bubble, pop and boil over.
“Shit!” Dean exclaims quietly as he jerks his hand back as if it’s been burned -- which it has, actually. “Huh. That didn’t go like I thought it would.” But hey, he’s learning and that’s the important part. He’s just gotta find a balance somewhere in between freezing shit solid and boiling it.
Castiel gives him a small, fond look as he reaches out and lightly touches the mug, cooling the coffee to a more normal temperature. The Angel feels his chest flutter with something strange when that bright beaming grin is directed at him.
“Thanks, Cas.” Dean says as he picks up the mug and takes a sip of the coffee, tasting like it’s fresh from the pot. It’s around that time that the waitress comes over and stops at their table, giving them a sweet smile.
“What can I get ya boys this evening?” She asks, taking out her pad and pencil, poised and ready.
Dean casts his green eyes up at her and smiles, they twinkle and glow just a tiny fraction that has the woman all but enchanted. She stills and stares, like she’s caught up in some kind of spell and it’s only when Dean begins speaking that she seems to snap out of it.
“I’d like a bacon cheeseburger, extra bacon and extra grease.” He says, grinning, “A side of fries, a side of onion rings, two slices of your best pie -- don’t even care what flavor, surprise me. And a chocolate milk shake.” He rattles off, then snaps his fingers as if he’s forgotten something. “And a refill of my coffee, please. And thank you.”
The woman nods as she scribbles, probably some sort of short-hand she’s memorized over the years then turns to Castiel. But the man merely shakes his head to which she nods. “Coming right up.” She says, giving them a wink as she leaves.
Once she’s gone, Castiel leans forward and whispers, “You shouldn’t use your abilities like that, Dean.” And he almost sounds reprimanding despite the fact he had been staring as well, caught up in the turbulent power that gave a brighter, iridescent sheen to Dean’s already beautiful green eyes.
“Aw c’mon, Cas! What’s the fun in having shit like this if I can’t even use it!” He argues, taking another large gulp of his coffee considering he’s just ordered a refill. “It’s not like I hurt her or made her do anything.”
“You shouldn’t be taking this so lightly.” Castiel replies, sitting back.
“Who said I was? Cas, look, I didn’t even realize I was doing it until she got all deer caught in a headlight.” He says with a huff. “And when I did, I stopped. I don’t even know what I did, or if I did anything at all.”
Castiel frowns as he realizes he’s made Dean uncomfortable, possibly even upset, and dislikes the way his chest seizes at the knowledge it’s him that caused it. “It’s alright, Dean. But please be more careful from now on.”
“Yeah, sure Cas. Whatever you say.” It’s not like he even knows what to be careful about. He didn’t even think he had any kind of weird devil mojo to begin with. Sure, he’s had a hundred and twenty years of experience in fighting Michael using some of his powers, but they hadn’t manifested until the cage door slammed shut on them and they’d gone a couple thousand rounds already. He’s foolish to think they’d been left behind when he was pulled from the cage. Just something else he’s got to look forward to telling Sammy about.
Speaking of which .. “Hey Cas, how’d I get out anyway?”
Castiel gives a short head-tilt and shakes his head. “I don’t know Dean, but I will look into it.” He says, pausing, “It was very .. surprising .. to feel your presence on Earth again, after so much time has passed.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. One minute I’ve got a sword shoved in my stomach at the bottom of the cage and the next I’m waking up in a friggin’ cemetery.”
They quiet when the waitress reappears and sets the food down across the surface of the table, which earns her a grateful grin and a thumbs up from Dean as she walks away, and then he’s pushing the milk shake toward Castiel. “Here, drink it. Ain’t polite to let a man eat by himself.” He says, as he picks up his own greasy burger and takes a large bite from it. The noises alone he makes should be illegal, Castiel thinks, watching as the grease leaves a shiny sheen on Dean’s plump lips as he chews in obvious delight.
His eyes skitter away from the sight as he shifts uncomfortably in the booth across from the man. “I do not require sustenance, and neither do you.” He says, feeling as if Dean should know this already.
“Yeah, kinda caught the hint after ‘bout fifty years down there.” He says without thinking as he grabs a couple fries from his plate and shoves them in his mouth. “Don’t mean I can’t enjoy it though.” When Dean looks up he catches the faint flicker of guilt that crosses Castiel's face before it’s gone, schooled back into the carefully blank mask.
He sets the burger down and wipes his mouth on a napkin he snatches from the dispenser sitting against the wall. “Cas, it’s not your fault, you know that right? I mean, I made the decision to --”
“It was a stupid decision!” Castiel hisses softly, like he’s been wanting to say it all damn day and was just waiting for the right moment -- and shit, he probably has been, waiting all this time for something he might never get to say. “It was stupid, reckless, and irresponsible and .. and many, many other adjectives I could use to describe it! Did you even think about what would happen to the people you left behind!? Sam and Bobby and ..” Me, he wants to say, but from the look Dean is giving him he knows it’s well implied.
Dean’s quiet for a long while, food untouched. “No Cas, I didn’t think .. wasn’t thinkin’ .. well, I was but not about what would happen after, not about the people that mattered. All I could do was think about how much I’ve screwed up in my life and that if I let Sammy do this, take up the Devil, that I’d failed him -- That I’d failed being the big brother who’s s’posed to watch out for him, makin’ sure nothin’ happens. That’d I’d failed the only job my Dad gave me that mattered. Nothin’ mattered but keeping Sammy safe. I did what I thought I had to do to keep him alive, ‘cause .. fuck, Cas, you know I’d never be able to kill Sam if that’s what it came to.”
Castiel is surprised by the raw emotion in Dean’s voice, though he can understand to an extent. How much has he sacrificed to follow Dean? Disobeying his Father’s orders for a human man. The Righteous Man. Castiel still thinks him as such, despite what he is now.
But Dean continues before Castiel can breathe a word in reply. “And I’m sorry to you too Cas, I really am. I don’t want you feelin’ like this is your fault, that you couldn’t save me.” Dean remembers falling and reaching out to Cas, and the sheer panic that flooded the man’s too blue eyes as he tried to reach for him in turn. “’Cause it’s not your fault Cas, you did what you were supposed to do and I fucked it up. And I’m sorry.” By the end his voice is a little rough and he’s scrubbing at his eyes before picking up his burger again and taking a mighty bite from it.
“Now shut up and drink your damn milk shake, I’m done with the chick-flick moments.”
Castiel’s lips twitch just a tiny bit. “Yes, Dean.”
It’s when Dean’s downed his burger, fries and is halfway through his order of onion rings -- Castiel’s still working on his milk shake by comparison -- that he breaks the companionable silence that’s fallen between them. “So how’s Sammy doin’? He alright?”
He must have been itching to ask, Castiel thinks amusedly to himself as he nods in reply, sipping daintily from the straw. “He is doing well. It was .. difficult for him in the beginning, but he seems content in his life at the moment.” Castiel decides not to tell Dean about Sam’s blood addiction -- that he’d gone right back to it, needing the distraction of it, once he left the safety and comfort of Bobby’s home a few weeks after Dean’s death -- that is Sam’s place, not his.
“So, what, did he go back to school? Is he settled down with some girl? C’mon Cas, details! You miss a lot in a year.” Dean says, grinning, and Castiel thinks he would not be so pleased if he knew the truth. “No, he continued hunting. He stayed with Bobby for a time, but left to keep hunt.” His stomach knots up as Dean’s face falls at the knowledge but continues regardless, “It was perhaps a way of dealing with his loss -- it was something you spent your time, your life, doing together .. perhaps he felt close to you when hunting.”
“Yeah, I guess .. dunno, just thought he’d settle down. He said he hated hunting, wanted to quit when it was over, you know?” He shrugs, running his hand through his hair a little. “But he’s happy tho right? Hunting? He’s .. doin’ okay?”
“Yes, Dean .. why do you ask?”
Dean sits up a bit straighter in the booth as he looks down at the onion rings on his plate, picking at them, shoulder lifting in a half shrug. “I was just thinking .. that maybe I should just .. let him be this time, you know? I mean .. what the fuck, Cas, I’m not even supposed to be here, even I ain’t that dumb to not realize that. I mean c’mon, even you gotta admit this is a little fucked up. Sure, I get being pulled from Hell before; Lucifer and the Apocalypse and everything else going down. I got that. But why this time? What do I gotta do now? Fuck that, what brought me back?” He asks, sounding frustrated and a little lost. “Shit Cas, I’m the d--”
The sudden pause makes Castiel sit up a little, listening attentively and watching as Dean takes a shaky breath, realizing perhaps he’s never actually vocally acknowledged what he is now and understands how hard this must be for the man.
“I’m the Devil, Cas .. I’m fucking Lucifer” He hisses, leaning in slightly to do so, keeping his voice down. “What could possibly be the reason for me being brought back? I just don’t get it.”
That isn’t all that’s bothering Dean. What the hell would he tell Sammy? ‘Hey bro it’s me, the devil, let’s go kill some shit!’ Yeah no, he doesn’t think so. It ain’t gonna work like that and he’d be a fool to think Sam wouldn’t fill him full of lead the first time he sees him walking around on God’s green.
“He didn’t believe me before Cas, he sure as shit ain’t gonna if I just show up on his doorstep one day.” Dean mutters, frowning down at his plate as he pushes it away and draws the plates of pie over instead. He needs his comfort food, dammit. “’Sides, I don’t wanna be out on a hunt with him and fuck up some how and wind up hurting him ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing with all this fuckin’ devil mojo I got.” Because he will fuck up. He always fucks up. He’s Dean Winchester, Fuck Up Extraordinaire. It would be just one more thing to tack onto the mile long list of shit he's fucked up in his life. Can't get any more fucked up than becoming the Devil, right?
“Then you will just learn to control them.” Castiel replies simply, as if it’s the easiest fucking thing in the world.
“Cas, I don’t even know what they are.” He says, grounding out the emphasis on ‘they’. “How the hell am I supposed to control what I don’t even know I have or what I can do?”
“Then I suggest you find out.” He says as he cocks his head to the side, “You already know you can both freeze coffee and boil it.” Castiel offers helpfully, motioning to the cup with his slender fingers. But it just serves to make Dean scowl.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll get right on that.” Dean grumbles as he spears his fork into his poor, defenseless piece of pie and takes a bite.
« Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 »
And of course, I would not be doing this without demonichate, who is awesome enough to beta my story and support it. <3333333333
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Title: What Falls From The Sky Is Not The Rain
Rating: PG-13 for now
Pairing: Eventual Dean/Castiel
Word Count: 4,197
Warning: Spoilers for S5 finale (5x22) & eventual S6, language
Disclaimer: Not mine, not ever ;A;
Summary: In a split-second, Dean makes a decision that drastically changes everything he knows -- including himself.
A/N: I will eventually, hopefully, be sprinkling in some season 6 plot as well, but overall this will likely wind up being a fix-it for the 6th season. Anyway, like I said before, this is my first heavy plotted fic for this series, so please be gentle. :3 I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this .. but don’t worry, I don’t plan on making anyone evil. :3
Sigillum Diaboli
‘you smiled like an angel, fallen from grace’
CHAPTER 3
Dean wakes with a start, gasping and arching, green eyes wide and unseeing for many moments as his vision clears and he takes stock of the white clouds drifting overhead and the faint rustle of leaves, the chirping of birds he hears around where he lays, still and unmoving. He doesn't even remember how he got out; one moment he's laying on the ground of the cage, Michael's sword jammed in his stomach and the next he's staring up at the bright blue sky above him, and goddamn it’s the most beautiful fucking sight he’s seen in a long, long time.
Dean lays there a moment, confused and baffled before slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position, then looks down at himself and notices the wounds he'd suffered at the hands of Michael while in the cage are long gone, not even a scar. His eyes scan the area and he snorts softly at the irony that he's back where he started.
"I really gotta stop wakin' up in cemeteries." He mutters to himself as he stands, body stretching and feeling as if it's not been used in a good long while.
The sudden displacement of air has him turning just in time to see Castiel arrive, his smooth dark wings spread out behind him as he lands, and ain’t he a sight for sore eyes. In only a few strides Dean is there in his space and enveloping Cas in a tight hug, half burying his face into the man's shoulder. "So damn glad to see you, Cas."
It takes Castiel a moment to return the hug, and then he's gripping him just as tight, letting out a shaky breath of relief as he thanks God that Dean is alright. They don't let go for a long moment, and when Dean pulls away Castiel lets him, even if he doesn't want to let go just yet, almost fearing this might be some strange wild dream -- even if Angels don't sleep.
"How long've I been gone, Cas?"
"A full year."
"Jesus .." Dean mutters, running a hand over his face as he looks over the new layer of grass that's sprung up from the cage's door in that time.
It's when Dean looks back over to Cas that he takes in his large black wings for the first time, and really sees them. He's seen the shadows of them before, like when they first met and how terrifying it had made Cas, Castiel to him then, seem. But now they look more beautiful than frightening. Without thinking he's reaching over Cas' shoulders to touch them, pads of his fingers running down the length of a feather, watching in wondrous awe as they move and flutter from the touch, one which makes Castiel shiver in response.
Castiel's never thought about what Dean would think if he ever saw his wings. They were not something normal humans could perceive. Dean is no normal human now, not anymore, so it makes sense that he can see their true form without trouble. But to feel Dean touching them, moving over each feather and the arch of bone in a tender caress makes his breath hitch and let out a soundless moan. "Dean."
After a moment Dean's hand retreats and his face carries a light flush as he grins, "Sorry, it's just .. never seen 'em like that before. They're cool, really cool."
Castiel can't help the answering smile that crosses his own face, the tips of his ears a little pink. "Thank you, but Dean .. now that you're here, the other Angels will be coming for you. They've already sensed your presence, it is how I knew you'd returned. I will need to re-map the runes on your ribs. They do not work as they once did when you were .. human."
Dean's expression shifts from joyous to carefully blank as he nods. "Alright, what do you need to do? Same as last time, right?"
"Yes .. it will hurt, and will take longer than before. These specific runes have not been used in many thousands of years, and I will need to .." He pauses and tilts his head. "Improvise. I will then be the only Angel able to find you."
"Jesus, Cas, possessive much?" He says jokingly.
Castiel's lips upturn into a small, barely there smirk. "Yes, I am."
Without warning Castiel presses his left hand forward, burying it inside of Dean's body. A choked scream erupts from the other man as his knees buckle from the searing pain shooting through his chest, surging outward. Castiel grips his shoulder with his right hand and slowly lowers Dean to the ground.
"Dean, please don't move." Castiel says, but Dean thrashes anyway because holy fuck it feels like his soul is being ripped from his body, the pain more intense than anything he can ever remember feeling.
"C-Cas .." He grounds out, voice rough with pain as his hands grip at Castiel, fists in his shirt and jacket, the other gripping the arm wrist deep in his chest, the light shining from it is in his peripheral vision. But it hurts so fucking bad, like he's dying a thousand deaths, like he can feel himself flying apart.
"Dean, please stop moving .. I cannot stop now that I've begun." Castiel says, voice a stern command, but when Dean doesn't stop -- and he feels guilty for hurting Dean like this -- the angel moves and sits astride Dean's thighs, legs locking around them to keep Dean from further moving, and it helps.
"Hurts .." Dean chokes out, and in a tender gesture Castiel leans down and rests his forehead against Dean's own in what he hopes is at least a little comforting.
"I know, Dean .. I'm sorry .. I do not wish to hurt you like this, but it is necessary."
Being this close to Dean, Castiel thinks he is the most beautiful creature God has ever made. His green eyes are wide and shining and he can see the power that swirls beneath their depths and it makes them all the more mesmerizing. He can see the many thousands of freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and the apple of his cheeks and wonders if he has time to count them all.
When their eyes lock Dean can see their vivid brightness, the way they glow slightly with the power he is using to infuse the runes into his bones. He finds himself matching Castiel's breaths without realizing it, the slow steady in-and-out, feeling it fan against his lips and mingle with his own. It feels like it lasts forever, caught up in this moment of surprising serenity.
Then suddenly it's over, and Castiel is sitting up and slowly pulling his hand from Dean's chest, resting it lightly where his heart beats and he finds pleasure in feeling it rabbit-quick beneath his fingers. Proof that Dean is here, alive. Dean lays there, staring up at Cas and panting as he tries to calm down, the pain slowly receding now that it's done. Castiel has yet to move from his precarious position, wholly bewitched by Dean's green eyes, even when Dean shifts and pushes himself up onto his forearms.
"Not that I mind the view or anything, but you gonna get off any time soon?"
"I .. beg your pardon?" Castiel asks, finally snapping out of whatever trance he was in as he shifts back a little, to where he's not nearly so close now.
"Off me, are you gonna get up? 'Cause I kinda can't feel my legs anymore." He says, giving the other man a small cheeky grin.
It’s as if Castiel has finally noticed their position and quickly gets up from Dean, stepping back, smoothing his clothes and Dean swears he can see the color crossing the man's face as he all but looks at him.
"My apologies, Dean."
"S'alright, gotta do what you gotta do right? No harm, no foul." Dean replies easily as he gets up from the ground, brushes the dirt off and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans.
Castiel gives a short nod of understanding. "We should leave. They might not be able to find you any longer, but they know this is where you arrived. They will be coming here."
"Okay, I know the perfect place to head to then." Dean says, and then promptly disappears.
Castiel stiffens slightly, an annoyed expression crossing his face as he huffs irritably and disappears as well to follow, glad he is able to sense Dean’s presence with little trouble.
‡ ‡ ‡
The evening finds Dean sitting in the booth of a local diner in the middle of nowhere, USA with the newspaper spread out in front of him slightly to the left, there's a cup of steaming hot coffee to his right and a glance at the clock tells him it’s only a quarter past five. He hasn't ordered his food yet, having told the waitress, cute lil thing that she is, he's waiting for a friend.
"You know the best part about all this shit, Cas?" He says without looking up. "The fact that you don't scare the shit out of me anymore when you just show up like that."
"I don't?"
Dean doesn't need to see to know Cas is doing that whole puppy-dog-head-tilt thing at him, and if he's honest with himself, it's kind of adorable. "Nope, I just feel you."
"Feel me?" Castiel asks, brow arching in confusion. When Dean does look up he notices the very tips of Cas' ears have tinged pink.
"I -- you know, I mean, your presence. I can feel it before you show up, so I know it's you. That's all." He shrugs and pointedly looks back down at the paper though he's not really reading it anymore, doesn't even remember what he was looking for in the first place. It just seems a very .. normal .. thing to do, despite the fact he is anything but anymore.
"Aah." Castiel murmurs, then seems to remember he was supposed to be irritated with the man sitting across from him. "You shouldn't do that, Dean .. you've just returned."
Dean just grins at him as he leans back casually in the booth, one arm stretching across the back of it. "Don't like it when people just disappear on you, do ya?" He says, "I didn't either." With that he gives Cas a slightly pointed look to which the angel actually looks a little sheepish.
"It will not happen again."
Dean nods and reaches for his coffee, bringing it to his lips to blow on it before taking a sip -- only to reel back. "The fuck?! It's freez -- holy shit it's frozen .." He then upturns the cup, watching in amazed disbelief as nothing comes out. The coffee is frozen solid and stuck within the mug.
Castiel tries his best to hide the amused smile that crosses his face.
"I just froze my goddamn coffee .. how the hell does one even do that?"
"That's exactly how, Dean .. hell. Lucifer's abilities are now your own." Castiel says, not only reminding Dean but himself as well. Dean is different now, no longer human and no longer the Righteous Man he had proclaimed to follow. Yet he came the moment he felt Dean's presence back on Earth and here he still sits. It's more than the desire to serve that keeps him by Dean's side. He knows what it is, has had a full year to come to the realization -- but it's not something he can allow himself to have or feel. It's blasphemous that he even allows himself to recognize these feelings in the first place.
"The hell are you -- oh." Dean remembers, vaguely, seeing Lucifer frost the window with his breath when they first met, the way the room chilled with his mere presence. "Well, looks like I'm gonna have to work on that then." He gives the frozen mug a small scowl before setting it down and touching the side of its chilled surface, focusing intently. Dean watches with interest the way the coffee seems to melt from the frozen mass inside and grins triumphantly. The grin turns into an expression of slight panic when the coffee starts to bubble, pop and boil over.
“Shit!” Dean exclaims quietly as he jerks his hand back as if it’s been burned -- which it has, actually. “Huh. That didn’t go like I thought it would.” But hey, he’s learning and that’s the important part. He’s just gotta find a balance somewhere in between freezing shit solid and boiling it.
Castiel gives him a small, fond look as he reaches out and lightly touches the mug, cooling the coffee to a more normal temperature. The Angel feels his chest flutter with something strange when that bright beaming grin is directed at him.
“Thanks, Cas.” Dean says as he picks up the mug and takes a sip of the coffee, tasting like it’s fresh from the pot. It’s around that time that the waitress comes over and stops at their table, giving them a sweet smile.
“What can I get ya boys this evening?” She asks, taking out her pad and pencil, poised and ready.
Dean casts his green eyes up at her and smiles, they twinkle and glow just a tiny fraction that has the woman all but enchanted. She stills and stares, like she’s caught up in some kind of spell and it’s only when Dean begins speaking that she seems to snap out of it.
“I’d like a bacon cheeseburger, extra bacon and extra grease.” He says, grinning, “A side of fries, a side of onion rings, two slices of your best pie -- don’t even care what flavor, surprise me. And a chocolate milk shake.” He rattles off, then snaps his fingers as if he’s forgotten something. “And a refill of my coffee, please. And thank you.”
The woman nods as she scribbles, probably some sort of short-hand she’s memorized over the years then turns to Castiel. But the man merely shakes his head to which she nods. “Coming right up.” She says, giving them a wink as she leaves.
Once she’s gone, Castiel leans forward and whispers, “You shouldn’t use your abilities like that, Dean.” And he almost sounds reprimanding despite the fact he had been staring as well, caught up in the turbulent power that gave a brighter, iridescent sheen to Dean’s already beautiful green eyes.
“Aw c’mon, Cas! What’s the fun in having shit like this if I can’t even use it!” He argues, taking another large gulp of his coffee considering he’s just ordered a refill. “It’s not like I hurt her or made her do anything.”
“You shouldn’t be taking this so lightly.” Castiel replies, sitting back.
“Who said I was? Cas, look, I didn’t even realize I was doing it until she got all deer caught in a headlight.” He says with a huff. “And when I did, I stopped. I don’t even know what I did, or if I did anything at all.”
Castiel frowns as he realizes he’s made Dean uncomfortable, possibly even upset, and dislikes the way his chest seizes at the knowledge it’s him that caused it. “It’s alright, Dean. But please be more careful from now on.”
“Yeah, sure Cas. Whatever you say.” It’s not like he even knows what to be careful about. He didn’t even think he had any kind of weird devil mojo to begin with. Sure, he’s had a hundred and twenty years of experience in fighting Michael using some of his powers, but they hadn’t manifested until the cage door slammed shut on them and they’d gone a couple thousand rounds already. He’s foolish to think they’d been left behind when he was pulled from the cage. Just something else he’s got to look forward to telling Sammy about.
Speaking of which .. “Hey Cas, how’d I get out anyway?”
Castiel gives a short head-tilt and shakes his head. “I don’t know Dean, but I will look into it.” He says, pausing, “It was very .. surprising .. to feel your presence on Earth again, after so much time has passed.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. One minute I’ve got a sword shoved in my stomach at the bottom of the cage and the next I’m waking up in a friggin’ cemetery.”
They quiet when the waitress reappears and sets the food down across the surface of the table, which earns her a grateful grin and a thumbs up from Dean as she walks away, and then he’s pushing the milk shake toward Castiel. “Here, drink it. Ain’t polite to let a man eat by himself.” He says, as he picks up his own greasy burger and takes a large bite from it. The noises alone he makes should be illegal, Castiel thinks, watching as the grease leaves a shiny sheen on Dean’s plump lips as he chews in obvious delight.
His eyes skitter away from the sight as he shifts uncomfortably in the booth across from the man. “I do not require sustenance, and neither do you.” He says, feeling as if Dean should know this already.
“Yeah, kinda caught the hint after ‘bout fifty years down there.” He says without thinking as he grabs a couple fries from his plate and shoves them in his mouth. “Don’t mean I can’t enjoy it though.” When Dean looks up he catches the faint flicker of guilt that crosses Castiel's face before it’s gone, schooled back into the carefully blank mask.
He sets the burger down and wipes his mouth on a napkin he snatches from the dispenser sitting against the wall. “Cas, it’s not your fault, you know that right? I mean, I made the decision to --”
“It was a stupid decision!” Castiel hisses softly, like he’s been wanting to say it all damn day and was just waiting for the right moment -- and shit, he probably has been, waiting all this time for something he might never get to say. “It was stupid, reckless, and irresponsible and .. and many, many other adjectives I could use to describe it! Did you even think about what would happen to the people you left behind!? Sam and Bobby and ..” Me, he wants to say, but from the look Dean is giving him he knows it’s well implied.
Dean’s quiet for a long while, food untouched. “No Cas, I didn’t think .. wasn’t thinkin’ .. well, I was but not about what would happen after, not about the people that mattered. All I could do was think about how much I’ve screwed up in my life and that if I let Sammy do this, take up the Devil, that I’d failed him -- That I’d failed being the big brother who’s s’posed to watch out for him, makin’ sure nothin’ happens. That’d I’d failed the only job my Dad gave me that mattered. Nothin’ mattered but keeping Sammy safe. I did what I thought I had to do to keep him alive, ‘cause .. fuck, Cas, you know I’d never be able to kill Sam if that’s what it came to.”
Castiel is surprised by the raw emotion in Dean’s voice, though he can understand to an extent. How much has he sacrificed to follow Dean? Disobeying his Father’s orders for a human man. The Righteous Man. Castiel still thinks him as such, despite what he is now.
But Dean continues before Castiel can breathe a word in reply. “And I’m sorry to you too Cas, I really am. I don’t want you feelin’ like this is your fault, that you couldn’t save me.” Dean remembers falling and reaching out to Cas, and the sheer panic that flooded the man’s too blue eyes as he tried to reach for him in turn. “’Cause it’s not your fault Cas, you did what you were supposed to do and I fucked it up. And I’m sorry.” By the end his voice is a little rough and he’s scrubbing at his eyes before picking up his burger again and taking a mighty bite from it.
“Now shut up and drink your damn milk shake, I’m done with the chick-flick moments.”
Castiel’s lips twitch just a tiny bit. “Yes, Dean.”
It’s when Dean’s downed his burger, fries and is halfway through his order of onion rings -- Castiel’s still working on his milk shake by comparison -- that he breaks the companionable silence that’s fallen between them. “So how’s Sammy doin’? He alright?”
He must have been itching to ask, Castiel thinks amusedly to himself as he nods in reply, sipping daintily from the straw. “He is doing well. It was .. difficult for him in the beginning, but he seems content in his life at the moment.” Castiel decides not to tell Dean about Sam’s blood addiction -- that he’d gone right back to it, needing the distraction of it, once he left the safety and comfort of Bobby’s home a few weeks after Dean’s death -- that is Sam’s place, not his.
“So, what, did he go back to school? Is he settled down with some girl? C’mon Cas, details! You miss a lot in a year.” Dean says, grinning, and Castiel thinks he would not be so pleased if he knew the truth. “No, he continued hunting. He stayed with Bobby for a time, but left to keep hunt.” His stomach knots up as Dean’s face falls at the knowledge but continues regardless, “It was perhaps a way of dealing with his loss -- it was something you spent your time, your life, doing together .. perhaps he felt close to you when hunting.”
“Yeah, I guess .. dunno, just thought he’d settle down. He said he hated hunting, wanted to quit when it was over, you know?” He shrugs, running his hand through his hair a little. “But he’s happy tho right? Hunting? He’s .. doin’ okay?”
“Yes, Dean .. why do you ask?”
Dean sits up a bit straighter in the booth as he looks down at the onion rings on his plate, picking at them, shoulder lifting in a half shrug. “I was just thinking .. that maybe I should just .. let him be this time, you know? I mean .. what the fuck, Cas, I’m not even supposed to be here, even I ain’t that dumb to not realize that. I mean c’mon, even you gotta admit this is a little fucked up. Sure, I get being pulled from Hell before; Lucifer and the Apocalypse and everything else going down. I got that. But why this time? What do I gotta do now? Fuck that, what brought me back?” He asks, sounding frustrated and a little lost. “Shit Cas, I’m the d--”
The sudden pause makes Castiel sit up a little, listening attentively and watching as Dean takes a shaky breath, realizing perhaps he’s never actually vocally acknowledged what he is now and understands how hard this must be for the man.
“I’m the Devil, Cas .. I’m fucking Lucifer” He hisses, leaning in slightly to do so, keeping his voice down. “What could possibly be the reason for me being brought back? I just don’t get it.”
That isn’t all that’s bothering Dean. What the hell would he tell Sammy? ‘Hey bro it’s me, the devil, let’s go kill some shit!’ Yeah no, he doesn’t think so. It ain’t gonna work like that and he’d be a fool to think Sam wouldn’t fill him full of lead the first time he sees him walking around on God’s green.
“He didn’t believe me before Cas, he sure as shit ain’t gonna if I just show up on his doorstep one day.” Dean mutters, frowning down at his plate as he pushes it away and draws the plates of pie over instead. He needs his comfort food, dammit. “’Sides, I don’t wanna be out on a hunt with him and fuck up some how and wind up hurting him ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing with all this fuckin’ devil mojo I got.” Because he will fuck up. He always fucks up. He’s Dean Winchester, Fuck Up Extraordinaire. It would be just one more thing to tack onto the mile long list of shit he's fucked up in his life. Can't get any more fucked up than becoming the Devil, right?
“Then you will just learn to control them.” Castiel replies simply, as if it’s the easiest fucking thing in the world.
“Cas, I don’t even know what they are.” He says, grounding out the emphasis on ‘they’. “How the hell am I supposed to control what I don’t even know I have or what I can do?”
“Then I suggest you find out.” He says as he cocks his head to the side, “You already know you can both freeze coffee and boil it.” Castiel offers helpfully, motioning to the cup with his slender fingers. But it just serves to make Dean scowl.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll get right on that.” Dean grumbles as he spears his fork into his poor, defenseless piece of pie and takes a bite.
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