748. it's always darkest before dawn

[mememaker]

HURT & COMFORT RP [EXPANDED 2.0]
Hurt/Comfort - Hurt/comfort is a fan fiction genre that involves the physical pain or emotional distress of one character, who is cared for by another character. The injury, sickness or other kind of hurt allows an exploration of the characters and their relationship.

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[holy_hand_print]

[This wasn't how it was suppose to go.

Dean Winchester was suppose to heal with time. He was suppose to have a happy life but damn it, Dean was his own worse enemy. He wouldn't let himself have good things. Dean just couldn't bear the thought of being happy.

Castiel didn't visit him. He couldn't. It was too hard. The angel knew that if he went down to earth, spoke with Dean, made himself aware, there was no way Cas could go back to heaven. And there was still a war waging, his brothers were dieing and all Castiel could think about was Dean Winchester.

So Castiel watched from a distance. Made himself invisible, watched over his hunter. Some nights he even managed to get to the hunter and give him a restful night sleep.

However it had been sometime since Castiel had last seen Dean. A particularly large battle had broken out with Raphael and his minions. Castiel and his troops were distracted, they fought tooth and nail and managed to escape with their lives. Only just barely.

By the time Castiel was pulled from the battle it had been over three months mortal time.

Dean was no longer at Lisa's home.

Castiel panicked.

The angel felt like it took him forever to finally locate Dean. The hunter was worse for ware, he looked exhausted, in pain and like he had given up on life. This wasn't good. This wasn't the life Sam had wished for Dean. Dean was killing himself, damn it.

it was for that reason that Castiel broke his own rule. The angel appeared in a flurry of feathers in front of the hunters motel room door and looked up, knocking on the door]

[hunting_trip]

[Dean was starting to think maybe Sam had the wrong idea bout him and Lisa. If he was ever gonna go for that type of life, if he hadn't been raised into a world of demons and monsters, maybe Lisa's who he'd have ended up with. He'd have a kid, he'd barbecue, he'd own a dog and do softball coaching on the side.

Lisa was a pipe dream in a world of reality. The reason she was so good? Because she stayed the hell away from Dean. She was constant- a window he could look in on when shit got too crazy, but not a window he could crawl through. If Dean stuck around with her, it'd only be a matter of time- a week, a month, a year, and she'd get attacked. The monsters would follow him, the demons would follow him, they always did, and slowly but surely, she'd grow to hate him.

So would Ben.

It was a fact. Sticking around was only gonna make it worse.

By the time Cas tracked him down, he was in Indiana. No real reason, other than he'd been drunk off his ass and the last motel played Raiders of the Lost Ark. Indiana was as good a place as any, apparently that's where the universe wanted him, so, screw it, he went.

Dean didn't get visitors. Ever. As such, he was understandably wary of the knock at his door. When the motel door was flung open, the first thing to poke out was a gun. On the trigger end, an already tipsy Dean, trying to wrap his head around the person in the doorway.

It took a full two seconds.]

...Cas?

[holy_hand_print]

[Things had gone so incredibly wrong and Castiel had no idea how to fix it.

Dean Winchester was suppose to be with Lisa. He was suppose to be happy and moving on yet the hunter couldn't do that. He couldnt bear to move on just for one second even to respect Sams last wish.

And Castiel had failed Sam too.The angel should have made sure that Dean had everything he needed to start his new life, but Cas didn't. Distractions came and took over his life, only allowing him brief glimpses at the former hunter and in how he was doing.

It had been six months, three weeks and four days since Castiel had last shown himself to Dean Winchester.

It was rather difficult tracking the son of a bitch down.

The barrel of a gun was what greeted Castiel when the angel knocked on the door. Castiel looked exactly the same, blinking slowly as he stared down the barrel. Dean took a moment to process who was at the door. Castiel, however, lifted a hand and lowered the gun away from his face, blue eyes meeting Deans as he growled out low.]

Dean.

[hunting_trip]

[Dean was rather counting on the fact that he'd be difficult to track down. A charm on his ribs, hex-bags, some anti-scrying mojo and a change-up in the false credit card names? Not to mention the fact that he'd been actively avoiding any suspiciously hunt-like activity. He took off the grid to a whole new level.

Maybe not a Bobby level, but hell, who was he trying to hide from, exactly? Society at large, not the devil. Not anymore. No demons, no angels.

Well, apparently one angel.

He didn't really mind the gun being shoved away, he'd intended to lower it anyway, but he'd been too surprised. Cas wasn't supposed to be back.

Like... ever. Six months ago, they said goodbye, and Dean was pretty convinced it'd been for the last time.

The surprise on his face shifted to annoyance, not because he was actually annoyed by the situation- though he may have been- but because it was what he always fell back on. Autopilot. Easy. He stepped back away from the door and nodded Cas in with an incline of his head.]

Since when do you knock?

[holy_hand_print]

Since when do you not bathe?

[Castiel asked, wrinkling his nose as he stepped in to the room. It didn't smell good at all. Dean seemed to be at his worse and Castiel could not help but feel responsible.

For some reason the angel thought not seeing Dean would make it easier for the human to move on with his life. Now it was clear that it only made it worse. If only Castiel had intervened sometime sooner sometime sooner he could of stopped Dean from leaving Lisa. Or blame himself constantly for every little thing.

Finding Dean Winchester had not been easy. It took everything in Castiels arsenal and then some to locate the guilt ridden brother.

And it broke Cas to see how far gone the hunter really was.

Sighing Cas shut the door behind him and cast a gaze around the room.]

Dean, do you honestly think this course of action you are taking is helping you?

[hunting_trip]

[Hey... ouch. He opens his mouth to protest, then- as discreetly as he can manage- smells himself. Okay. Fine. Fair point.]

I... might've gotten a little... distracted. Hey, screw you, do you even know what a shower is?

[He crossed to the little table in the far corner. It's covered in cans and bottles, and Dean sorts through them for a minute, tossing empty after empty until his hands land on one with a swig or two of whiskey in the bottom. He leans against the table, bottles shake precariously, and he downs the rest of it, watching Cas with a bored, detached expression that belies how wary he actually is.]

I don't need this crap. Why are you here, Cas? Need one of my kidneys? No- wait- let me guess. Apocalypse Two: Electric Boogaloo?

[He needs more beer for this. Ugh.]

[holy_hand_print]

[ Castiel set Dean with a dead pan look. It showed with clear annoyance.]

I know enough that you are suppose to so it frequently enough that you do not begin to smell rancid.

[The angel watched Dean carefully. The hunter threw empty bottle after empty bottle to the ground searching for some sort of alcoholic relief. Dean tried to play it off casual, like he did not care. Cas knew better then that. He could see Deans soul. Dean needed comfort, he needed his brother. And Castiel could do nothing to help.

It tore into the angel. ]

.... I came to see you.

[hunting_trip]

[Rancid was kind of a strong word, Cas. It's not like he was going out in public- in fact, he wouldn't have even opened that damn door for another week of some nosy ass birdbrain didn't fly his ass down to throw insults. Excuse him if he's not interested in company.

He tosses the now-empty bottle to the floor. Useless- and he's out, now. That's just freaking peachy. His day's just gone straight to hell- oh, wait. Funny coincidence- that's where it deserves to be.

He stared at Cas incredulously.]

Right. Okay. Because- see- I was under the impression we were through here. Or are you just gonna pop in twice a year to tell me I smell like shit? Because I gotta say- not the most functional friendship, sweetheart.

[Where the hell was his wallet? Since the day was fucked anyway, he may as well make a store run. He needed groceries. Like beer, and milk. And beer. And bread. And Beer. He busied himself picking up scattered pairs of jeans, strewn fore and yon all over the floor looking for his wallet, without much avail.]

I'm alive. I'm fine. You've done your duty or whatever. Pack it back to the attic.

[holy_hand_print]

[This nosy bird brain wouldn't have to come down if Dean Winchester just had his shit together. Castiel is careful, working his way through the mess sure to avoid any bottles that he may step on. This room was a sure sight indeed. The once so sure and self righteous Dean Winchester to have fallen to such a state.

The angel frowned, lifting his gaze to set blue eyes on the hunter]

I would have been here sooner if circumstances allowed it, Dean.

[Cas is just watching Dean. Silent as the hunter searches for the long lost wallet that somehow seem to have made it in to Castiels coat pocket. Along with Deans keys. And his dignity.]

It is my responsibility to make you aware of when you are shaming your brothers memory. So no, I will not "pack it back in the attic".

[Cas even emphasized the last part with air quotes there]

[hunting_trip]

[The nosy bird brain's got to be delusional if he thinks Dean's ever had his shit together. He's just better at pretending, sometimes. Right now, he doesn't give a fuck about pretending- there's nobody left to pretend for. Not really. Bobby, he figures, but as long as he can hide his sorry state from the older man, he won't have to catch any flack from anyone and he can do what he wants.

Clearly, he's wrong. Thank you very much, Castiel.]

Yeah, I'm sure.

[Except he sounds sarcastic about that, throwing one article of clothing over his shoulder. Pretty soon, he's turned over every single piece in the room, and he's still no closer to finding his wallet.

Maybe he left it in the car? Except the keys aren't on the table anymore, either. Shit.

Cas's voice stops him cold.

He squares his jaw, closes his eyes a second, then slowly turns around.]

Don't you say shit like that to me, understand? I tried, okay? I tried to do right by Sam, I tried with Lisa, I tried for weeks, but I just... She's not who I want, and I'm not exactly the right kinda guy for her to have hanging around her kid, am I?

[He starts out angry, but it kind of putters into wary acceptance. Exhaustion.]

I'd just get them killed.

[holy_hand_print]

I would have.

[The angel growled in response, square his shoulders as he glared up at the taller man. Even in his over grown trench coat and his messy bed ridden hair there was the fury of a rebel angel behind those eyes.]

Do you think I enjoy being locked away up there? Battling every second for a fight I am not even certain I can win?

[Yes Dean. Good luck finding either of those, screw you very much.

Castiel had said the magic words. The triggers that would set Dean off. Huffing a breath through his nose, Cas tilted his head up, chin ready for the strike that never came.]

Sam is dead, Dean. That may be who you want but he isn't coming back. You need to move on and make a life for yourself, not wallow in such a state of self loathing.

[Voice getting deeper with every word the angel hunched his shoulders, growling low.]

So confident in your family curse. Do you not think I would make certain you and your loved ones were protected?

[hunting_trip]

[Cas is doing his angel of the Lord thing, and by rights, he should be freaked out. Certainly, he used to be, but the difference now is that he trusts Cas. They're friends, and as such, Dean's pretty damn sure Cas isn't going to pick his ass up and throw him back into Hell. Not anymore.

Then again, the angel did beat the shit out of him that one time, so he pulls back a little, but the edge doesn't leave his eyes.]

You could ask me for help. Not like I've got anything better to do.

[Not anymore. And he would punch Cas, but all that'd get him is a broken hand. And that last part- about making certain his loved ones were protected... That's... it's touching. Which he'd say, but he's entirely too manly and prideful. It softens him a little, his eyes flick away.]

That's not who I- that's not what I meant. I get that. I'm working on it. It's not Sam. Sam's... he's gone. Yeah. I know. I just...

[Shit. He slumped down onto the bed, shoulders hunched, and passed a hand over his face.]

[holy_hand_print]

[ Good. Fear the angel. He was first and foremost a sword of God. He should be feared even if his closest ally is a human being. They are friends. It's a very unlikely pair that the angel of heaven and the torturer of the pit make. Dean is right though. Castiel would never throw him back in the pit. Castiel cared too much.

And hey, that one time Dean deserved it.

At the suggestion Castiel had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.]

There is nothing you can do against Raphael and his armies. This is my battle to fight.

[His expression softens When Dean does. The angel makes his way through the mess and takes a seat by the hunter on the bed. He sits beside Dean, close enough to almost be touching. ]

Then who, Dean? Who do you want? What do you mean?

[hunting_trip]

[Dean would argue that point. Cas was a sword for himself, he just happened to be swinging it for God most days. That's what separated him from all of those other angel dickbags. It wasn't fear. It was respect- and no thanks to that terrifying kitchen speech, thank you very much. It's respect Cas earned, which is the only way to go with Dean.]

Kinda fucked up, though, that you fought with us, and now you're off on your own. Just- if you need anything... you'll call, right?

[So he's showing some concern. Sue him. Dean's never been okay with feeling useless, and without Sam to protect anymore... well, hell, what's his point? It's what Dean does, that's how he defines himself. He's a protector with no one to protect.

He closed his eyes.]

Nobody, Cas, nothing.

[holy_hand_print]

[Alright, point to Dean Winchester. Castiel was his own sword now. Knowing Sam and Dean and Bobby had changed Castiel. For the better it seemed, just sometimes it was hard to remember.

If Castiel were to hear Dean say that he 'respected' the angel Cas would be sure to puff out his chest in pride. It wasn't easy learning emotion, and it was even harder to go against your family for what you think is right.

Castiel just watched Dean carefully and when the hunter mentioned for Castiel to ask for help when he needed... well, Castiel just had to bite back the tear that went right through his being.

Truth was Castiel did need help. He was locked in a battle he was certain that he was going to lose. The angel fought Raphael and his forces with every tooth and nail but Raphael was getting the better of him. It was getting to the point where Castiel was desperate.

He was considering going to the new King of Hell for help.

Castiel couldn't ask more of Dean. After he suffered so and spent his entire life protecting other people. Cas just couldn't. It wouldn't be fair to Dean. The eldest Winchester deserved so much better then that. He deserved peace.

So Castiel put on his best agreeable face, giving a curt nod to the hunters request.]

Of course.

[Unsure of what to do, the angel paused a moment, eyes still on Dean before he rested his hand over the hunters. Castiel gave it a slow reassuring squeeze.]

[hunting_trip]

[As much as it'd be worth that rather birdlike display of puffery, Dean wasn't likely to out and out say any of that. Not without a near-death experience and a beer, anyway. He's just going to tell himself that it ought to be obvious, that he shouldn't have to spell it out, and carry on in typical stubborn man fashion. He was good at it.

If he were on top of his game, he might have seen through that. Cas is an easy tell- essentially any time he doesn't look constipated means something's up. Right now, though, in his pit of self-pity and with his eyes pressed closed, he doesn't even question the sincerity.

The touch, on the other hand- that gets his attention. His eyes snap open and glance down, brow furrows a little because... since when did Cas do touchie feelie? Sure, personal space was one thing, but getting handsy? It crossed his mind to tug back, caught a snarky remark on his lips and pressed them closed.

One chick flick moment, okay? Just one. He earned a little god damn comfort, his brother is in hell.]

You gonna give me my wallet back, or is that after we make out behind the bleachers?