The Intimacy Meme
The Intimacy Meme
(Shamelessly taken from... all the rest's and modified!)
Intimacy is the glue of any relationship, albeit romantic or friendship. It's getting to the root of humanity, and expanding upon ourselves and letting others in.
Rules:
1. Post with your character.
2. Go to rng and roll from 1-6.
3. Post to others.
4. Profit
Scenes:
1. First Kiss. ( Read more... )
(Shamelessly taken from... all the rest's and modified!)
Intimacy is the glue of any relationship, albeit romantic or friendship. It's getting to the root of humanity, and expanding upon ourselves and letting others in.
Rules:
1. Post with your character.
2. Go to rng and roll from 1-6.
3. Post to others.
4. Profit
Scenes:
1. First Kiss. ( Read more... )
[Of all the things he could be hoarding in his cabin, chick peas are at the very bottom of the list. Nah, he doesn't really hoard much, drugs excluded of couse. Sure, he'll pass on most of what he finds, but he most certainly snags a few for himself and ferrets them away somewhere for a rainy day.
He doesn't wait for an invitation. He knows better than to expect one and so he just makes himself at home, dropping down onto the top step next to Dean, leaning against the railing slightly. He studies his friend's profile in that way that he hasn't quite broken himself of yet, with an intensity that's gone from almost every other aspect of his personality. Cas is decidedly not among those who hold Dean personally responsible for every death and failed mission... Though he's aware they exist. No, he knows Dean, and he knows that despite his extremely unpleasant demeanor and lack of outward concern, those deaths weigh on him.
Not that it stops his near constant button-pushing and less than gentle ribbing- he also knows Dean would resent him for treating him like he's delicate. He isn't.
He peels his eyes away from Dean's face and drops them to that bottle of whiskey at his side, nodding in its general direction.]
You in a sharing mood?
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Dean nods and holds out the bottle for Cas. He's really not in a sharing mood at all, but he can make an exception for Cas. He may push at him a lot, but he knows what the man gave up for him. He tries not to think about it, because he's always left feeling guilty about how much Cas has changed. Cas gave up everything for him and Dean still failed him, same as he failed Sam. One day, he's going to fail everyone else, too, just like he's been failing them one by one as the Croats pick them off.
With everything that's happened, Cas is probably the only real constant Dean can count on in his life. Sure, Cas has changed an awful lot, but he's still Cas. After everything the two have been through, Dean knows that Cas isn't going anywhere, not that there's many places to go, but it's good to know someone will stand by him, even if he does have to push him away a lot.]
Woulda though you'd have passed out by now. Who's keeping all the unattached women in the camp warm?
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He isn't going anywhere, how could he? No mojo means no flying, no beaming himself or anyone else to some far off place where Sam and Bobby are still around, where he still has his grace and Lucifer hasn't destroyed the planet. Really, where would he even go? Everything he wants is either right here or gone for good, there'd be not point to leaving.
It's more than just not having anywhere else to go, of course- Cas hasn't forgotten that he'd played a part in this as well. He'd opened that door, he'd let Sam out, and he can't shake the feeling that if he'd just fought back, all of this could have been avoided.
He's not about to let Dean clean this up alone, even if he is insufferable at times. Not a chance in hell. He doesn't regret his choice to stick around. ...Most of the time, anyway.]
Couldn't sleep. I didn't wanna wake them with my fidgeting, I'm thoughtful that way.
[Truth be told, there's no one in his cabin right now. Unfortunate, because the nights are getting cooler and he would have appreciated someone to curl up with.
This is the next best thing- at least, he's telling himself it's second best- and so he settles himself more comfortably, knee bumping into Dean's. He's warm, how is Dean always warm when Cas feels like a block of ice about eighty percent of the time? It's bull.]
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Of course, Dean has no idea that Cas is the one who let Sam out of that room. Knowing that might change the way he views the former angel. Or it might change nothing. Not like either of them could fix anything anymore. They just had to keep going, hoping that something good would come out of this mess.]
That's real kind of you, Cas. Real considerate. So you figure you'll drink my good whiskey instead? Just make sure you're not mixin' shit that shouldn't be mixed. Last thing you need.
[That's about as much concern as Dean is willing to show outwardly, but he'd be lying if he said he doesn't worry that Cas is going to mix the wrong things and wind up dead. He's not really an angel anymore and Dean's pretty scared of the day he walks into Cas' cabin and Cas won't wake up, not that Cas needs to know that. He might take it the wrong way, might think Dean cares more than Dean thinks he ought to.
Dean might feel warm to Cas, but he feels pretty cool himself and Cas' knee is a welcome touch. The only other thing keeping him warm is the whiskey and that only does so much to stave off the cold when you're alone at night.]
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[He means it as a joke, but he knows it's true in more ways than one, and he almost regrets saying it.
Almost, because there's no room for that shit anymore.]
I'm not gonna pull a Jimi Hendrix. I'm careful.
[He is. He really, truly is. He may have stared death in the face on countless occasions as an angel and actually been dead for a short period of time, but Cas is in no hurry to lose his life for good. The idea of dying, once and for all, no do-overs or reprieves from his Father? Absolutely terrifies him. Enough that if he thinks about it too long it sends him crawling to the closest available substance.
He has no eternal soul, nothing that could find a resting place anywhere... He's reasonably certain that when he dies, he'll just cease to be, and it's a difficult thought to stomach for a creature who's lived millennia and who, until a few years ago, had always assumed he'd be around indefinitely in one form or another. Never mind that he's seen his brothers fall- has killed some of them himself, in fact- as Castiel he'd always believe that they'd gone... Somewhere else. He'd taken it on faith.
He doesn't have that anymore.
He picks up the whiskey and takes another drink. It's time for that train of thought to stop. He's glad Dean hasn't jerked away yet; he likes the feel of something solid when his thoughts take a turn for the morbidly metaphysical. Sighing, he drops the bottle again, stares out into the dark, and changes the subject.]
It's quiet tonight.
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It's easy to be the best whiskey when you're the only bottle. It's like how you're our best spiritual leader.
[It's a joke and he tries to keep the bite out of his voice, but he's just so tired of everything.
Dean winces at the Hendrix reference. It's more concerning to him that Cas makes pop cultures references now than that he does so many drugs. Dean can remember so clearly a time when Cas would scowl at him and get angry about not understanding half of what Dean would say to him. He used to wish Cas would get his jokes, but he'd take back that wish in a second if he could.
Dean's not thrilled about dying himself. He's pretty sure Heaven is just gone and he remembers Hell. He remembers everything from before he broke and everything after and he doesn't know how he'll survive if that's where he's heading after all this, because he knows he'll break again and he knows where that road leads. He's already torturing demons up here, so there's no way he wouldn't do it again down there. He doesn't expect he'll even catch a break again.
As for Cas dying, he tries not to think about that. He doesn't really get all of this soul business or even what Cas is now, but the idea of Cas leaving him terrifies him and the idea of Cas going to Hell leaves his stomach cold. For all Dean knows, though, they're already in Hell. Maybe they all died months ago and no one noticed.]
Who'd've thought the end of the world would be this quiet? I always expected a bang or something.
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They don't, thought, and really that's the only reason he keeps it up. He used to be an angel for fuck's sake. He knows what's out there- or more accurately, what isn't, and it's not group mind or karma or release or any of that-- it's emptiness, as far as he can tell. But who wants to hear that?
As unsavory as it is, Cas can't even hold the torture against Dean at this point. It's not surprising, nor is it new- that'd been the first facet of Dean'd he'd ever been presented with, after all. It's necessary, as necessary as getting information out of Alastair had seemed, and in fact the only problem Cas has with it is what it does to Dean... Though it's not like they really have a choice. There's no easy answer.]
Better me than Chuck, he'd have us making daily offerings to the last package of toilet paper. Charmin Extra Strong is a cruel and capricious god, I've spared us that horror.
[And an absent one too... Something it and his Father seem to have in common these days...
Swatting at a bug, he keeps staring off into the treeline as if he expects a horde of croates to come busting through now that they've jinxed it.]
Mm. All the signs are here, I guess that's as much a bang as we're going to get.
[Aside from the bang of Heaven's gates closing to him, anyway. He tries not to dwell.]
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Dean snorts.] I fucking hated those bears.
[He's pretty sure Cas had never seen a Charmin commercial, even when they still had TV. Cas had been too busy back then for anything that human. It's scary to think about how much he's changed in just a few years.
Sometimes Dean wonders if the people in the camp are the only humans left on the planet. He wonders if every other person out there isn't a Croat already, or dead, and he's not even sure which sounds worse.
He shakes his head. Fuck the signs. Fuck the end of the world. It's not supposed to be like this. He was just supposed to hunt monsters, die young fighting some ghost or werewolf. The world was supposed to go on without him. He's not supposed to be important. Hell, if he thought Michael was still around, he'd say yes in a heartbeat now. His freedom is useless, he knows that much.
He takes a long drink.]
You ever think maybe it's already ended and we're already Dead?
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Cas hasn't... Given much thought to the rest of the world. If he did, though, he'd imagine there would be groups, other pockets of survivors probably led by other hunters out there somewhere. He at least believes that much- they can't be the only ones left.]
Hm.
[He pauses. Could they be dead? He'd be lying if he said he'd never entertained that thought. Granted, it's usually when he's high as a kite and having thoughts faster than he can logically shoot them down, but... Nah, he's definitely thought about it.
He's quiet, staring seriously into the dark for a few moments, trying to work things out in his dreadfully sober mind.]
It's crossed my mind. But... I don't think that's the case. Couldn't be.
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Dean tries not to think too hard about any of it most of the time. He's not sure what he even finds preferable right now. Maybe there's some Utopian city out there somewhere where people are gathering and Dean just doesn't know about it. Maybe on some other continent, they are rebuilding the human race. All Dean knows is what's in front of him and it's pretty crappy.]
You don't think Hell has new games to try out on us? Whips and chains have to get old eventually.
[Dean doesn't really think they're dean, because he figures even if Hell had decided to change over to psychological torture, they could do better than this. For one thing, there's no way they'd let him have Cas here if this was Hell. He leans his leg more firmly against Cas', just to make sure he's real. Still, he has to ask.]
What makes you so sure?
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I wouldn't put it past them, but...
[Well, Dean, now that you mention it, Cas feels precisely the same way, and the knee pressing against his really just cements the fact that this couldn't possibly be hell, as hellish as it is.
Hrm. How best to say it without turning this into a 'click flick moment', as Dean would call it... He can't really think of a way, but since he'd asked...]
I don't think so. If this were my hell, you wouldn't be here.
[Huh. Not as awkward as he'd thought it'd be. To him, anyway. He grabs the bottle and takes a long drink, hoping the display of manly alcohol chugging will lower the level of touchy feely... Though it's more for Dean's sake than his, he isn't particularly bothered by it.]
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Dean snorts.]
Is it the drugs or the humanity that turns you into such a girl?
[He moves to slap Cas's knee, but his hand kind of just winds up resting there instead. The alcohol must just be making him sluggish. And that feeling in his chest? Must just be from knowing Cas counts on him the way he counts on Cas. It's good to have a friend in all this, even if it is about the worst thing Dean can imagine short of actual Hell. It would be so much worse without Cas here.
Messed up as Cas is and as much as it hurts Dean to see him like this, every ounce of him is still Cas and Dean just knows that. And he knows this can't be heaven, because even with Cas here, it still sucks, so it's gotta be Earth. He knows it's selfish and he should wish Cas could be somewhere better, but he's so thankful Cas is here, even if he does steal all the hot women.]
They would definitely separate us, though, wouldn't they? I am not looking forward to going back there when this is over.
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He rolls his eyes.]
Must be the amount of time I spend with the women around here.
[And he doesn't steal them. He attracts them. It must be the sandals.
Dean's hand lands on his knee in what Cas is assuming is an aborted knee slap. He's fine with it there, and so he says nothing about it.
Of course he counts on Dean. Dean is the only constant, really, aside from the pain, and Cas knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he'd be well and truly fucked without him. He's their leader, yeah, but it's more than that- he's... He's Dean, and Cas can't imagine living this life without him. It's miserable now, sure, but it'd be unbearable without Dean, and Cas is sure that as a mortal he probably wouldn't have lasted even this long without his guidance. Dean's watched out for him, in his own grouchy way, since day one, kept him alive until he'd learned how to do it on his own. Protected him, though he hates the way that thought makes him feel like a damsel in distress.
Really, though, there's no better word for it- protection- something that's so clearly at the root of Dean's very nature... Which is why he's so surprised by the resigned way Dean says going back there, like it's certain, unavoidable. Cas frowns and turns to face him, expression serious. Intensely so, almost like before, just rougher around the edges and with a good deal more scruff.]
You're not going back there.
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Of course Dean protects Cas. How could he not? He's never really gotten over the guilt of knowing what Cas gave up for him, but even beyond that, Cas has been good to him and he owes it to the former angel to watch his back. Even now when he should really be pushing Cas away, he still favors him. He's not even sure if Cas knows how much Dean lets him get away with that no one else ever would. Even just some of the things Cas says to him would get anyone else a punch in the face.
Dean's taken aback at the look Cas gives him. It's almost like... before. It's fucking frightening and welcome all at once and Dean squeezes Cas' knee without meaning to.]
Cas, I--Where else am I going to go? You said Heaven's gone and even if it wasn't, I'm not--it's where I belong.
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Cas would likely roll his eyes at that guilt, considering it was his choice to stay here. Sure, part of it had been because he hadn't wanted to leave Dean alone here, but that wasn't the entire reason. He could never have gone back to Heaven, back to the way things were, knowing that everything he'd believed in was either a lie, or absent to the point that it didn't matter anyway. He'd have questioned every order, every law, until eventually he'd have ended up just like Anna. He'd have come crashing back down to earth eventually, he'd just figured he'd avoid that whole mess and stick around from the get-go.
Of course, he hadn't expected his grace to diminish so quickly, but... He likes to think he'd have stayed even if he'd known he'd end up a snarky, dried up husk of an angel.
And speaking of that snark... He knows. He knows exactly what he gets away with, just like he knows exactly how to toe that line to keep himself from being clocked in the jaw. He takes full advantage of it, actually, although he'd admit to sometimes taking it a bit too far. He's no different from the rest of the people here in that regard- he can't help snapping every once in a while. His temper isn't quite as bad as Dean's, but he's far from mild-mannered.
Dean's hand tightens around his knee, and under different circumstances it might be distracting... But not now.]
Heaven's closed to me. I don't know what that means for human souls, or where they go from here... But I do know that Hell is the farthest possible place from where you belong. That was the whole point.
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And toe that line, Cas does. Dean's nearly punched him more times than he can count, though if he were pressed for an answer right now, Dean couldn't tell anyone why. Dean knows his temper has gotten worse. He figures it's the stress of running things and how much more he's gotta push down, but he doesn't worry much. It keeps most people afraid of him and if they're scared, they'll listen. He knows Cas isn't scared of him, but Cas still listens and that's all that really matters.]
I hope you're right, 'cause I got a sinking feeling all the time that I'm already sinking.
[He sighs and takes another drink.]
Why do you have so much faith in me after all the shit you've seen me do?
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