SPN fic :)
Title: The Fights We’ll Never Have (Again)
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,766
Summary: Sort of a 'what could have happened' fic... three times Dean and Castiel disagree. Angst, with a little bit of good ol’ fluff.
Warnings/Disclaimer: Let’s just say spoilers for the whole season, that should cover it. :) These characters are not mine. Not even a little bit.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
3.
Dean was ready to collapse.
Tossing his keys on the bedside table, he shrugged out of his clothing and summoned enough energy to climb in the shower. There, he leaned against the smooth tiled wall, letting the water do all the work to rinse the grime and filth from his body. He didn’t move until his skin began to feel raw from the hot water.
The motel room was small and musty. There were cracks along the walls, chipped paint, and stains on the carpet, but Dean hardly noticed. He leaned against the headboard and clicked on the television, just to break up the silence. He stared at it mindlessly, unable to sleep yet.
They had saved another seal tonight. The scoreboard was still heavily in Hell’s favor, but Dean tried to be grateful for what they’d accomplished. He had to force himself to think that way - to preserve his sanity, if nothing else.
Dean felt the subtle change in the room even before the television flickered. He didn’t look to see who it was… After months of Castiel appearing, disappearing, and hovering around, Dean could recognize his presence anywhere. That angel was unlike any other creature or being he’d ever encountered.
“You did well,” Castiel stated in greeting, though the words held no pride.
“Good for me,” Dean muttered as he sat up in the bed. This unexpected visit only added irritation to his exhaustion.
“Victories should not be dismissed, Dean.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Sure, we won today, but what happens when they break more seals tomorrow?”
“Then we will face them tomorrow.”
Castiel’s voice was void of any emotion, just like his eyes. Dean didn’t even want to look at him. He had just started to feel like they were allies in this fight - they trusted each other and confided in one another. (That angel had a way about him that dragged confessions out of Dean that he’d never admit to another soul.) Dean didn’t know what had happened, but he wanted him back - wanted Cas - not this empty, apathetic version.
“And we’ll fight the next day and the next day…” Dean added begrudgingly. “Yeah, I know how it goes. I’m just ready for it to be over.”
“Soon enough,” was the angel’s response, as he came to stand beside him. “Your work is nearly done.”
Castiel rested a hand on his shoulder, but the gesture only upset Dean further. He was tired of being patronized. He was sick of the responsibility he couldn’t handle and the guilt he couldn’t escape.
“And what if I refuse?” he blurted angrily, pushing away Castiel’s hand and rising to his feet. “What if I decide I’ve had enough? What are you gonna do about it?”
Castiel stepped forward, his head tilted in bewilderment.
“Are you testing me, Dean?”
“Maybe I am,” Dean challenged, moving so they stood toe-to-toe.
Being that close to him, Dean was suddenly aware of how foolish this was. Pissing off an angel was not a good plan, but he’d already pushed this far, and Dean Winchester didn’t do things halfway, so he pressed on, masking his hesitations with the bravado of his rage.
“What - no response to that?” he provoked.
“What should I say?” Castiel asked blankly. He was still so composed and it was making Dean crazy. He wanted to break past that… make the angel lose control.
“Get angry, would you? Yell at me, threaten me, smite me for all I care - just do something.”
He spread his arms in invitation. “Come on, Cas.”
Castiel turned away, his words quieter than before.
“You would ask me to harm you, while you call me by that name? Dean,” he sighed, “you should know me better than that.”
The angel’s words brought him up short and Dean faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly, embracing his anger.
“Know you?” Dean scoffed. “I don’t know you at all! You show up to give me orders and that’s it. And yeah,” he admitted, “sometimes I don’t follow them very well, but here’s a news flash for you - I’m human. I’m tired of dealing with this crap on my own.”
“You’re not alone,” Castiel answered firmly.
“Oh, right. God’s on my side,” he scoffed. “If God is so wonderful, why doesn’t he help? I guess he can’t.”
Castiel’s eyes blazed at that.
“Consider your words,” he growled in warning.
Dean was getting somewhere now. He knew he was in dangerous territory, but he pushed on.
“Or maybe God just doesn’t care.”
He could see Castiel trembling now, his jaw clenched in restraint.
“He doesn’t care what happens to me or Sam or anyone - and neither do you.”
Castiel stretched out his hand and, suddenly, Dean was flung across the room, his body thudding loudly as he was pinned to the wall, held there by Castiel’s piercing glare.
Dean gaped, speechless. Even if Castiel hadn’t immobilized him, the shock alone would’ve been enough to keep him in place. For all his taunting and insults, he never expected the angel to truly react. He watched, powerless, as Castiel advanced. Dean’s stomach twisted in knots as he replayed all the stupid things he’d just said, but when he opened his mouth to apologize, Castiel’s eyes narrowed and the words stuck in Dean’s throat.
There was no sound, no movement in the room, save for Castiel’s slow, deliberate steps. Dean closed his eyes, waiting for a punishment that never came.
“Look at me,” Castiel whispered harshly, and Dean didn’t dare disobey this time.
Castiel’s eyes darkened and Dean felt his blood run cold and hot all at once. When he spoke, his voice was so low that Dean strained to catch every word.
“I’m not the only one watching you, Dean, so be careful. Heaven’s disapproval is not something you should willingly bring down upon yourself… Believe me.”
His eyes were pained and he held Dean’s gaze, as though willing him to understand.
“I’d forgotten my purpose,” he continued softly. “You would do well to remember yours.”
With that warning, Dean was alone again and, for the first time, he was worried the angel might not return.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
2.
“If you loved your father, Dean, then you would understand why I can’t turn away from mine!”
“Well, at least I knew my dad,” Dean shot back.
Castiel closed his eyes. He had come here to offer a solution - to aid Dean in helping Sam. That was what Dean wanted, yet he stubbornly resisted Castiel’s efforts. Not only that, Dean seemed to take such pleasure in twisting his words for the sake of arguing. Castiel didn’t understand it. So often, he felt as though they were fighting each other, when they should have been on the same side.
“We want the same thing, Dean, try to understand. We both want to help Sam.”
“Yeah, because your boss happens to agree with me this time. But if they had other orders, we both know you’d be doing exactly what they told you.”
Only Dean Winchester could make obedience sound like a sin. Despite his words, Dean wanted to believe; Castiel could feel it deep within him. He wanted to, but he wouldn’t allow himself and Castiel felt like he was failing him because nothing he did seemed to help. He couldn’t reason with him, couldn’t describe God, couldn’t prove to Dean what he knew to be true…
“I don’t know why I’m even arguing with you,” Dean muttered, turning away. For a moment, Castiel felt inexplicably lost, until Dean faced him again, anger spilling from him in waves that washed over the angel.
“We both know whose side you’re on. You’d never chose me over heaven.”
The words stung, like the whips of fire in Hell, and Castiel flinched.
“Yes, I would,” he answered, without thinking.
That was when realization came crashing down on him, shattering the careful illusion he’d created to convince himself that Dean did not affect him, but it was useless to deny. Dean’s eyes widened and Castiel knew he must look just as shocked, but the words were true. He wouldn’t take them back.
Then, Dean was moving closer to him, in front of him, up against him, crowding him as though he was intent on destroying every boundary between them - and Castiel couldn’t think clearly.
“Prove it,” Dean whispered.
Castiel knew unquestionably, though he couldn’t explain how, that the expression he saw in Dean’s eyes mirrored the need he couldn’t suppress in himself, uncoiling and consuming him… This was the worst kind of temptation - the kind that didn’t feel wrong. He needed this, and he knew Dean did too. Need - that was another new sensation. In heaven, he’d never had a need for anything.
“Prove it,” Dean pleaded again, but he didn’t wait for Castiel to answer; he leaned in and pressed their mouths together.
Maybe heaven was corrupt, maybe there was nothing for him there…
Dean’s lips were confident on his, coaxing him to respond and Castiel felt himself opening up, giving Dean everything he asked.
He could feel his promises, his ties to heaven, slipping away. His body’s heart raced with fear and he clung to Dean, hoping for salvation.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
1.
“No,” Dean said emphatically. “I won’t do it.”
Castiel’s eyes gazed upward in an exasperated gesture that was almost an eye-roll. Dean smirked, enjoying the angel’s frustration.
“Is there nothing I can say to convince you…?”
Dean could see the disappointment in the slump of his shoulders, but he wasn’t ready to give in yet. From where he lounged on the hood of Impala, Dean crossed his arms and shook his head resolutely.
“Can’t make me do it, Cas,” Dean said, though they both knew that was a lie. Castiel could pretty much make him do anything, but he wasn’t about to admit it.
“Why not?” the angel asked, sounding slightly petulant.
Dean sighed. “Because I hate to fly! If you know me half as well as you claim to, you’d know that.”
“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad,” Castiel murmured softly.
Dean didn’t know if it was the wind, or an intentional move, but he felt the smooth-slick glide of feathers against his arm and he shivered at the touch. When their eyes met, Castiel’s gaze was full of promises and Dean couldn’t deny him, not when he looked at him so expectantly. Besides, Dean was more than a little… intrigued.
“Fine,” he relented, trying to look irritated and failing wholly.
Castiel smiled triumphantly and any hesitation Dean had felt vanished right then.
.
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,766
Summary: Sort of a 'what could have happened' fic... three times Dean and Castiel disagree. Angst, with a little bit of good ol’ fluff.
Warnings/Disclaimer: Let’s just say spoilers for the whole season, that should cover it. :) These characters are not mine. Not even a little bit.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
3.
Dean was ready to collapse.
Tossing his keys on the bedside table, he shrugged out of his clothing and summoned enough energy to climb in the shower. There, he leaned against the smooth tiled wall, letting the water do all the work to rinse the grime and filth from his body. He didn’t move until his skin began to feel raw from the hot water.
The motel room was small and musty. There were cracks along the walls, chipped paint, and stains on the carpet, but Dean hardly noticed. He leaned against the headboard and clicked on the television, just to break up the silence. He stared at it mindlessly, unable to sleep yet.
They had saved another seal tonight. The scoreboard was still heavily in Hell’s favor, but Dean tried to be grateful for what they’d accomplished. He had to force himself to think that way - to preserve his sanity, if nothing else.
Dean felt the subtle change in the room even before the television flickered. He didn’t look to see who it was… After months of Castiel appearing, disappearing, and hovering around, Dean could recognize his presence anywhere. That angel was unlike any other creature or being he’d ever encountered.
“You did well,” Castiel stated in greeting, though the words held no pride.
“Good for me,” Dean muttered as he sat up in the bed. This unexpected visit only added irritation to his exhaustion.
“Victories should not be dismissed, Dean.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Sure, we won today, but what happens when they break more seals tomorrow?”
“Then we will face them tomorrow.”
Castiel’s voice was void of any emotion, just like his eyes. Dean didn’t even want to look at him. He had just started to feel like they were allies in this fight - they trusted each other and confided in one another. (That angel had a way about him that dragged confessions out of Dean that he’d never admit to another soul.) Dean didn’t know what had happened, but he wanted him back - wanted Cas - not this empty, apathetic version.
“And we’ll fight the next day and the next day…” Dean added begrudgingly. “Yeah, I know how it goes. I’m just ready for it to be over.”
“Soon enough,” was the angel’s response, as he came to stand beside him. “Your work is nearly done.”
Castiel rested a hand on his shoulder, but the gesture only upset Dean further. He was tired of being patronized. He was sick of the responsibility he couldn’t handle and the guilt he couldn’t escape.
“And what if I refuse?” he blurted angrily, pushing away Castiel’s hand and rising to his feet. “What if I decide I’ve had enough? What are you gonna do about it?”
Castiel stepped forward, his head tilted in bewilderment.
“Are you testing me, Dean?”
“Maybe I am,” Dean challenged, moving so they stood toe-to-toe.
Being that close to him, Dean was suddenly aware of how foolish this was. Pissing off an angel was not a good plan, but he’d already pushed this far, and Dean Winchester didn’t do things halfway, so he pressed on, masking his hesitations with the bravado of his rage.
“What - no response to that?” he provoked.
“What should I say?” Castiel asked blankly. He was still so composed and it was making Dean crazy. He wanted to break past that… make the angel lose control.
“Get angry, would you? Yell at me, threaten me, smite me for all I care - just do something.”
He spread his arms in invitation. “Come on, Cas.”
Castiel turned away, his words quieter than before.
“You would ask me to harm you, while you call me by that name? Dean,” he sighed, “you should know me better than that.”
The angel’s words brought him up short and Dean faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly, embracing his anger.
“Know you?” Dean scoffed. “I don’t know you at all! You show up to give me orders and that’s it. And yeah,” he admitted, “sometimes I don’t follow them very well, but here’s a news flash for you - I’m human. I’m tired of dealing with this crap on my own.”
“You’re not alone,” Castiel answered firmly.
“Oh, right. God’s on my side,” he scoffed. “If God is so wonderful, why doesn’t he help? I guess he can’t.”
Castiel’s eyes blazed at that.
“Consider your words,” he growled in warning.
Dean was getting somewhere now. He knew he was in dangerous territory, but he pushed on.
“Or maybe God just doesn’t care.”
He could see Castiel trembling now, his jaw clenched in restraint.
“He doesn’t care what happens to me or Sam or anyone - and neither do you.”
Castiel stretched out his hand and, suddenly, Dean was flung across the room, his body thudding loudly as he was pinned to the wall, held there by Castiel’s piercing glare.
Dean gaped, speechless. Even if Castiel hadn’t immobilized him, the shock alone would’ve been enough to keep him in place. For all his taunting and insults, he never expected the angel to truly react. He watched, powerless, as Castiel advanced. Dean’s stomach twisted in knots as he replayed all the stupid things he’d just said, but when he opened his mouth to apologize, Castiel’s eyes narrowed and the words stuck in Dean’s throat.
There was no sound, no movement in the room, save for Castiel’s slow, deliberate steps. Dean closed his eyes, waiting for a punishment that never came.
“Look at me,” Castiel whispered harshly, and Dean didn’t dare disobey this time.
Castiel’s eyes darkened and Dean felt his blood run cold and hot all at once. When he spoke, his voice was so low that Dean strained to catch every word.
“I’m not the only one watching you, Dean, so be careful. Heaven’s disapproval is not something you should willingly bring down upon yourself… Believe me.”
His eyes were pained and he held Dean’s gaze, as though willing him to understand.
“I’d forgotten my purpose,” he continued softly. “You would do well to remember yours.”
With that warning, Dean was alone again and, for the first time, he was worried the angel might not return.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
2.
“If you loved your father, Dean, then you would understand why I can’t turn away from mine!”
“Well, at least I knew my dad,” Dean shot back.
Castiel closed his eyes. He had come here to offer a solution - to aid Dean in helping Sam. That was what Dean wanted, yet he stubbornly resisted Castiel’s efforts. Not only that, Dean seemed to take such pleasure in twisting his words for the sake of arguing. Castiel didn’t understand it. So often, he felt as though they were fighting each other, when they should have been on the same side.
“We want the same thing, Dean, try to understand. We both want to help Sam.”
“Yeah, because your boss happens to agree with me this time. But if they had other orders, we both know you’d be doing exactly what they told you.”
Only Dean Winchester could make obedience sound like a sin. Despite his words, Dean wanted to believe; Castiel could feel it deep within him. He wanted to, but he wouldn’t allow himself and Castiel felt like he was failing him because nothing he did seemed to help. He couldn’t reason with him, couldn’t describe God, couldn’t prove to Dean what he knew to be true…
“I don’t know why I’m even arguing with you,” Dean muttered, turning away. For a moment, Castiel felt inexplicably lost, until Dean faced him again, anger spilling from him in waves that washed over the angel.
“We both know whose side you’re on. You’d never chose me over heaven.”
The words stung, like the whips of fire in Hell, and Castiel flinched.
“Yes, I would,” he answered, without thinking.
That was when realization came crashing down on him, shattering the careful illusion he’d created to convince himself that Dean did not affect him, but it was useless to deny. Dean’s eyes widened and Castiel knew he must look just as shocked, but the words were true. He wouldn’t take them back.
Then, Dean was moving closer to him, in front of him, up against him, crowding him as though he was intent on destroying every boundary between them - and Castiel couldn’t think clearly.
“Prove it,” Dean whispered.
Castiel knew unquestionably, though he couldn’t explain how, that the expression he saw in Dean’s eyes mirrored the need he couldn’t suppress in himself, uncoiling and consuming him… This was the worst kind of temptation - the kind that didn’t feel wrong. He needed this, and he knew Dean did too. Need - that was another new sensation. In heaven, he’d never had a need for anything.
“Prove it,” Dean pleaded again, but he didn’t wait for Castiel to answer; he leaned in and pressed their mouths together.
Maybe heaven was corrupt, maybe there was nothing for him there…
Dean’s lips were confident on his, coaxing him to respond and Castiel felt himself opening up, giving Dean everything he asked.
He could feel his promises, his ties to heaven, slipping away. His body’s heart raced with fear and he clung to Dean, hoping for salvation.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
1.
“No,” Dean said emphatically. “I won’t do it.”
Castiel’s eyes gazed upward in an exasperated gesture that was almost an eye-roll. Dean smirked, enjoying the angel’s frustration.
“Is there nothing I can say to convince you…?”
Dean could see the disappointment in the slump of his shoulders, but he wasn’t ready to give in yet. From where he lounged on the hood of Impala, Dean crossed his arms and shook his head resolutely.
“Can’t make me do it, Cas,” Dean said, though they both knew that was a lie. Castiel could pretty much make him do anything, but he wasn’t about to admit it.
“Why not?” the angel asked, sounding slightly petulant.
Dean sighed. “Because I hate to fly! If you know me half as well as you claim to, you’d know that.”
“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad,” Castiel murmured softly.
Dean didn’t know if it was the wind, or an intentional move, but he felt the smooth-slick glide of feathers against his arm and he shivered at the touch. When their eyes met, Castiel’s gaze was full of promises and Dean couldn’t deny him, not when he looked at him so expectantly. Besides, Dean was more than a little… intrigued.
“Fine,” he relented, trying to look irritated and failing wholly.
Castiel smiled triumphantly and any hesitation Dean had felt vanished right then.
.