So, I am writing again. Dean/Castiel (Second hand serenade, pg13)
This is so fucked up. I think it was not until I finished writing this story, that I realized how insecure I actually am. As in "This is a really nice idea but I'm not good enough to explain it myself", and it should not be such a big deal except I actually want to become a writer, so you would think being afraid is not the right state of mind to go around with. I need to calm down, seriously, especially since I enjoyed this so very much.
Anyhow, this is a Supernatural fanfiction. Kind of future fic, after the fourth season finale-and yes,I'll fangirl about this episode later.
This was my response to laifan's prompt at the Supernaturak Kink Meme: Dean/Castiel - Dean sees Castiel's true form (without the inconvenience of losing his eyes of course)
The result was angst (?! Shush, I do not know how to write pr0n), 1072 words (including two just added scenes) and some mild Dean/Castiel. PG-13 for fucked up themes and language. Spoilers for the entire Season 4.
second hand serenade
The war is won.
With Yeshua's sword -and who would have thought God's First Chosen One was such a kickass- dripping an angel's grace, freaky as it was to stab Castiel before entering the Opera House and impale the fucking dramatic son of a bitch that tried to reign over the world and possess Sammy.
So it is no surprise that Lucifer goes down. Caged for hopefully the next two thousand years because -holy shit- Dean is not twenty anymore.
But it goes against the angels' way.
There is no Winchester brothers Battle Royale or decimated cities or virgin sacrifices. No Heaven and Hell pissing contest-thus no Paradise on Earth. Just your regular pain and desperation. Just family, faith and Castiel's loopholes.
Heaven does not like it.
*
The thing is, they will not directly blame Dean.
They surely do not thank him, none of them even make eye-contact while he sneers and puts himself between Sam and the angels, much to his brother's increasing distress, but it would seem he is not worth their time.
They take Cas-who isn't fighting back, slumped shoulders and resignation and (“Keep your fucking hands away from him or I'll fucking kill you”) though he charges against the creatures, he barely catches the glimpse of a sad smile, a goodbye from his angel, before they all are gone in a rustle of wings.
Jimmy Novak calls that night and offers his gratitude but no information.
*
It is his fault.
They ask Castiel this, "do you relinquish all the blame, is he at fault for his own humanity for corrupting you, even if you are strength-light-the fury of God-agent of Fate-perfection? Is he more human than the rest, were your orders imperfect, was that not your name in the Prophecies, you who gripped the righteous man tight and raised him from Perdition? Do you relinquish the blame of your own disobedience, brother, and call him a snake?"
The voices keep whispering in his ear and Dean drinks, walks across the parking lot and waits for the trial to be over, thinking I'm going freaking insane and Cas and Sammy is safesafesafe and say yes, Cas.
It is no longer Jimmy's vocal cords but the hunter knows his ally-friend-accomplice's gruff tone.
"Dean is no more guilty of being our Father's son than any other. He certainly might be...exasperating, sinful and reckless if measured by our own standards, but he acts according to his righteous soul. He rejected Paradise and chose to love and feel, fleeting as his and all humans' existence might be. I showed him the path and this I do not regret."
"Do you blame him for corrupting you or not, brother?"
Then, in a partly awed, partly amused voice,
"Why would I blame the most beautiful flower in our Father's garden for taking my breath away?"
The whispering stops, Dean trembles and falls on his knees. The bottle in his hand breaks, his palms bleed.
“Son of a fucking bitch”
*
A week from then, Castiel is sent to Hell.
They make Dean watch. See the silvered figure, almost human but not quite, no nose, hairless, slick body, three beautiful golden eyes; and the hunter feels trained rejection towards the monster before realizing this is it, this is Cas, and even through the veil of his dream he feels shame.
Horror follows when the meat-hooks go through the appendages that are his friend's wings. And he physically screams when demons approach the angel and rip him apart. And again. And again.
At the end of Castiel's 121st day in Hell, someone asks,
"Would you change places with your charge?"
Sam tries to shake him to conciousness but Dean is still very much gone, still being punished, crying because Castiel says fuck you and it shouldn't make him this sickeningly happy to be loved.
*
A second day, then a week, then a month (ten Hell years) passes by. Dean's nights are all still the same torture-friend-pain-love while his days are salt and burn affairs. Sam does his best to distract him; Dean smiles because the apocalypse was averted, they are very both alive and it should be enough (except it's not) and in response his brother keeps himself quiet when Metallica blasts from the Impala and it's obvious he is hurting the most (but Sammy is looking for a way to get the angel out of hell, perhaps out of guilty and pity or so it-him should never break and put Dean in his place.).
This night is different. The man's sheets are still quite a mess, and he writhes in bed like every day, but this once it is because of a fucked up mix of pain-his angel is being sliced, minced, remade-and pleasure: this beautiful creature with slick skin, his grace shines whenever he shrieks Dean in what should be hate-blame-regret but is only adoration; and Castiel learns to pity his torturer.
“You do not know love, do you?”
Thinking of wings and golden eyes, Dean jerks off in the shower, and later he prays.
*
The angels do not understand, so they change.
Because they are unable to find hate towards God in their brother's grace, the mincing comes to a halt. Dean is no longer seeing his angel and he whimpers in disappointment, just before seeing himself in the back of the Impala with a busty woman he has not ever met and Castiel trapped once again in that known meatsuit, outside the car, watching them.
There is pain in this dream. In the real world Dean whispers a slurred prayer.
nononononodon'twatchnotthisiwantyou
“He does not remember you anymore, brother. Are you now ready to condemn him?” so many whispers ask by the angel's side.
And Castiel honest-to-God smiles. It is a somewhat derisive gesture but full of understanding, because his siblings are not yet able to see.
The angel has no need of words, the kiss he places on the Impala's window is enough.
Dean is loved.
*
Because he fails to condemn his charge, what appears to be Jimmy Novak's naked body, but is Cas, if the Earthly-golden eyes are anything to go by, is shoved to Dean's arms as he wakes up.
“He is too human. Heaven no longer requires of his service.” But there is so much pain in the unknown man's voice.
On this day, Castiel shows love, sacrifice and compassion to Heaven itself.
The war is won.
Anyhow, this is a Supernatural fanfiction. Kind of future fic, after the fourth season finale-and yes,I'll fangirl about this episode later.
This was my response to laifan's prompt at the Supernaturak Kink Meme: Dean/Castiel - Dean sees Castiel's true form (without the inconvenience of losing his eyes of course)
The result was angst (?! Shush, I do not know how to write pr0n), 1072 words (including two just added scenes) and some mild Dean/Castiel. PG-13 for fucked up themes and language. Spoilers for the entire Season 4.
second hand serenade
The war is won.
With Yeshua's sword -and who would have thought God's First Chosen One was such a kickass- dripping an angel's grace, freaky as it was to stab Castiel before entering the Opera House and impale the fucking dramatic son of a bitch that tried to reign over the world and possess Sammy.
So it is no surprise that Lucifer goes down. Caged for hopefully the next two thousand years because -holy shit- Dean is not twenty anymore.
But it goes against the angels' way.
There is no Winchester brothers Battle Royale or decimated cities or virgin sacrifices. No Heaven and Hell pissing contest-thus no Paradise on Earth. Just your regular pain and desperation. Just family, faith and Castiel's loopholes.
Heaven does not like it.
*
The thing is, they will not directly blame Dean.
They surely do not thank him, none of them even make eye-contact while he sneers and puts himself between Sam and the angels, much to his brother's increasing distress, but it would seem he is not worth their time.
They take Cas-who isn't fighting back, slumped shoulders and resignation and (“Keep your fucking hands away from him or I'll fucking kill you”) though he charges against the creatures, he barely catches the glimpse of a sad smile, a goodbye from his angel, before they all are gone in a rustle of wings.
Jimmy Novak calls that night and offers his gratitude but no information.
*
It is his fault.
They ask Castiel this, "do you relinquish all the blame, is he at fault for his own humanity for corrupting you, even if you are strength-light-the fury of God-agent of Fate-perfection? Is he more human than the rest, were your orders imperfect, was that not your name in the Prophecies, you who gripped the righteous man tight and raised him from Perdition? Do you relinquish the blame of your own disobedience, brother, and call him a snake?"
The voices keep whispering in his ear and Dean drinks, walks across the parking lot and waits for the trial to be over, thinking I'm going freaking insane and Cas and Sammy is safesafesafe and say yes, Cas.
It is no longer Jimmy's vocal cords but the hunter knows his ally-friend-accomplice's gruff tone.
"Dean is no more guilty of being our Father's son than any other. He certainly might be...exasperating, sinful and reckless if measured by our own standards, but he acts according to his righteous soul. He rejected Paradise and chose to love and feel, fleeting as his and all humans' existence might be. I showed him the path and this I do not regret."
"Do you blame him for corrupting you or not, brother?"
Then, in a partly awed, partly amused voice,
"Why would I blame the most beautiful flower in our Father's garden for taking my breath away?"
The whispering stops, Dean trembles and falls on his knees. The bottle in his hand breaks, his palms bleed.
“Son of a fucking bitch”
*
A week from then, Castiel is sent to Hell.
They make Dean watch. See the silvered figure, almost human but not quite, no nose, hairless, slick body, three beautiful golden eyes; and the hunter feels trained rejection towards the monster before realizing this is it, this is Cas, and even through the veil of his dream he feels shame.
Horror follows when the meat-hooks go through the appendages that are his friend's wings. And he physically screams when demons approach the angel and rip him apart. And again. And again.
At the end of Castiel's 121st day in Hell, someone asks,
"Would you change places with your charge?"
Sam tries to shake him to conciousness but Dean is still very much gone, still being punished, crying because Castiel says fuck you and it shouldn't make him this sickeningly happy to be loved.
*
A second day, then a week, then a month (ten Hell years) passes by. Dean's nights are all still the same torture-friend-pain-love while his days are salt and burn affairs. Sam does his best to distract him; Dean smiles because the apocalypse was averted, they are very both alive and it should be enough (except it's not) and in response his brother keeps himself quiet when Metallica blasts from the Impala and it's obvious he is hurting the most (but Sammy is looking for a way to get the angel out of hell, perhaps out of guilty and pity or so it-him should never break and put Dean in his place.).
This night is different. The man's sheets are still quite a mess, and he writhes in bed like every day, but this once it is because of a fucked up mix of pain-his angel is being sliced, minced, remade-and pleasure: this beautiful creature with slick skin, his grace shines whenever he shrieks Dean in what should be hate-blame-regret but is only adoration; and Castiel learns to pity his torturer.
“You do not know love, do you?”
Thinking of wings and golden eyes, Dean jerks off in the shower, and later he prays.
*
The angels do not understand, so they change.
Because they are unable to find hate towards God in their brother's grace, the mincing comes to a halt. Dean is no longer seeing his angel and he whimpers in disappointment, just before seeing himself in the back of the Impala with a busty woman he has not ever met and Castiel trapped once again in that known meatsuit, outside the car, watching them.
There is pain in this dream. In the real world Dean whispers a slurred prayer.
nononononodon'twatchnotthisiwantyou
“He does not remember you anymore, brother. Are you now ready to condemn him?” so many whispers ask by the angel's side.
And Castiel honest-to-God smiles. It is a somewhat derisive gesture but full of understanding, because his siblings are not yet able to see.
The angel has no need of words, the kiss he places on the Impala's window is enough.
Dean is loved.
*
Because he fails to condemn his charge, what appears to be Jimmy Novak's naked body, but is Cas, if the Earthly-golden eyes are anything to go by, is shoved to Dean's arms as he wakes up.
“He is too human. Heaven no longer requires of his service.” But there is so much pain in the unknown man's voice.
On this day, Castiel shows love, sacrifice and compassion to Heaven itself.
The war is won.