Fic (Dean/Cas): Secrets
Title: Secrets
Author: heavenlyxbodies
Pairing: Dean/Cas pre-slash
Rating: PG
Spoilers: let’s just call it S6 and be done with it, yeah
Feedback: Makes me happy, just play nice
Disclaimer(s) can be found here
Warnings/Squicks: none, save my slightly out of practice writing
Summary: It’s time to tell Dean the truth, no matter what Cas believes it will cost him- Dean needs to know.
Written for deancas-xmas 2011 for andrea_deer
AN: So, I’m crap at following prompts even when I start off that way, they always seem to take strange and often tangled turns, but I started with this portion of one prompt I'd love a fic dealing with the Heaven's civil war. It doesn't have to be strictly speaking about that war, but I want Cas trying to deal with that mess, being in danger, fighting his own kind, dealing with doubts and sudden need to bring the order in his Father's absence. That's the general theme I'm most interested at the moment and I'd love any story dealing with this topic.. It strayed into something much simpler and probably sappier with random acts of Gabriel *scratches head* …well, you know how he is, popping in where he’s not wanted then buggering off until he’s good and ready. I hope it can still give you a small smile if nothing else.
~~~~~~~~~
“What are you doing, little brother?” Gabriel drawled, hands oddly bereft of sugary sustenance.
Castiel cast his eyes upward and sighed. “I would have though1t that obvious, Gabriel- waging a war.”
“What, without Deano?”
“Dean is otherwise engaged,” Castiel intoned coldly.
“Pfft,” Gabriel snorted. “He’s miserable playing house and you know it.”
“It is what he wishes. And I will not bring him into this.”
Gabriel studied the younger angel for a few moments, not saying a word. He knew exactly what Castiel was thinking; his brother had grown ever more impossible over the months since the Apocalypse didn’t happen and it was wearing his patience. “Have it your way,” he huffed, disappearing without even his trademark snap.
The moment Gabriel left, Castiel’s shoulders lost some of their rigidity. Gabriel was right of course, he did need Dean, but it wasn’t his place anymore and this battle was the angel’s.
He still wasn’t sure how he’d become the leader of their little rebellion, of course, he knew the actions that had brought him here; what he still didn’t understand was how he’d let it happen. When the Apocalypse didn’t happen and he survived, he had hoped that returning to Heaven would be easier. He hadn’t expected a hoard of angels to look to him for guidance in the ways of free will, and he certainly hadn’t been prepared for Raphael’s wrath. And that first day back had been the best day he’d had since returning to the albeit fractured Host.
Not a day went by that Castiel didn’t think about Dean and not a decision he didn’t wish he could seek Dean’s council on. He didn’t like to think he was lost without Dean, but he was becoming more and more aware that he was. It wasn’t that Dean fixed everything, but he made the hopeless and ridiculous seem plausible. Dean’s bullheaded stubbornness was exactly what he needed for this war. In truth, it was simply what he needed. The war tore at him, the things he had to do, the choices he had to make and always so alone. Gabriel provided his own sort of support- arrogant, self-serving, and flippant as it was; it was still support. Castiel only wished he’d stop bringing Dean into their conversations. It wasn’t helping.
---
When Dean had called him about the trumpet, he was relieved and angry and thrilled in equal measures. He knew he’d been gruff with the man, but he couldn’t afford to drag him into their war. Dean had fought enough spiritual battles without adding this to it.
Gabriel about blew a gasket, when he’d heard. “You had him right there. Just like before and you didn’t so much as talk to him!” the older angel ranted.
Castiel quirked his head, brow crinkled in annoyance. “I spoke to Dean.”
“Yes, but not about anything important,” Gabriel complained.
“What would you have me do, Gabriel?”
“I would have you,” he mocked, “tell him what’s going on. Tell him about Raphael, the war, everything. If anyone could help with this insane enterprise of yours it’s Dean Winchester.”
“Why do you care so much about our war? You abandoned us eons ago.”
The angel sighed and leaned against a conveniently materialized wall and folded his arms over his chest. “Because as much as I hate to admit it you were right. And I didn’t exactly get a chance to help then.”
“This is your idea of helping,” Cas replied in a gravelly dead pan that managed to still hold a certain amount of curiosity.
“Sure it is.” Gabriel munched on what appeared to be a caramel apple. “You need someone to point out that you’re being an ass.”
Cas’ forehead wrinkled and he rubbed at it.
“Cas, little brother, he’s back in the game. There’s no reason for you not to go to him anymore,” Gabriel laid a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “It’s time.” He stepped back, adding, “If you won’t go to him I will,” and he promptly vanished.
A shudder ran down Castiel’s spine. He didn’t want Dean involved. He’d made too many bad choices and if he tried to explain that to Dean he doubted the man would ever trust him again, more than that, he couldn’t bear the look of betrayal he was sure would be on Dean’s face.
---
The next time he saw Dean it was tense, to say the least. And he spent more time than he should’ve with the words echoing in his head. “What happened to you, Cas? You used to be human, or at least like one.”
“I'm at war. Certain... regrettable things are now required of me.”
He wished he’d been brave enough to tell Dean then and there what was truly happening in Heaven, and how it was anything but an idealic afterlife. But he didn’t have the strength- it all came down to that look; he couldn’t handle that look.
He was surprised when Dean called for him because of Sam; he wished he could have been more surprised by Sam coming back… wrong. But what hurt, really, truly hurt, was how betrayed and angry Dean was over Sam not telling him. It wasn’t that Sam was soulless, what mattered was that Sam didn’t tell him there was something wrong to begin with, that he had to find out the way he did, cloaked in secrets and lies. It made Cas feel no better than the soulless half-person Sam was, and he was supposed to be the one Dean could trust. Which was why when he felt Dean call him the next day, he came without hesitation.
The moment he appeared, Dean started with the questions. “Cas, what’s going on with you, man? You’re not you, and with Sammy… I gotta know if there’s something.”
“Dean, I-” He didn’t know what to say; he swallowed a dry lump in his throat. “The war… it’s not as simple as it would seem.”
A mirthless grunt of a sound came from the hunter. “War’s never simple, Cas. Add a bunch of uptight winged idiots and it can only get worse.”
Cas hung his head turning to the side as he often did when he was insecure or uncertain of his actions.
Dean sighed heavily and laid a hand on his angel’s shoulder. “What’s really happening, Cas, please?” he asked sincerely.
It was the ‘please’, he was sure of it. Denying Dean anything was hard enough for him, but with such a plaintiff voice he couldn’t ignore him or lie. “I fear… I know I have made some bad decisions since returning to the Host.”
“What kind of bad decisions?” Dean asked warily, a fog of concern clouding his face.
Cas cocked his head and gave Dean a withering look that clearly said ‘What do you think?’.
Dean rubbed his face in his hands. “Are we talking trading my soul for Sammy bad or Sam saying ‘yes’ bad?”
“It’s hard to say,” Cas admitted.
“Damn, Cas.” Dean rubbed his forehead with his thumb on his temple. “I’m gonna need a drink for this, several I’m willing to bet.” A hand holding a 1.75L bottle of Black Label appeared in front of his face. Sighing, he took the bottle. “Glasses?”
“Of course,” he set two tumblers on the rickety table next to them.
Dean cracked open the bottle and poured for them both, throwing his back in one swift, practiced movement then pouring himself another. “Well?”
Cas sat down, gulping his own drink, resigned to being on the receiving end of Dean’s ire, and began speaking.
When Cas finished talking, half the bottle was gone and the angel still hadn’t touched his second glass.
Dean’s face was unreadable- eyes hard, jaw set.
It had yet to turn into the expression Cas was expecting- one of betrayal and loathing. “Dean.”
He hung his head and took a deep weighty breath, “Cas…,” he breathed. “You’re smarter than that.” He looked up eyes full of sorrow and frustration. He blamed himself. Cas learned to be human from him- and Sam and Bobby- but he was the start and the finish. If ever there was a more dysfunctional family to learn values from. Dean shook his head trying to shake his own regrets away for the moment; he had to focus on Cas, right now. “Why didn’t you come to me? Or Bobby? You’re family; we would’ve found a way. We still will. But no more going off on your own or half-cocked or whatever it is you angels do when you’re starting a war and no Crowley,” Dean practically growled the demon’s name- he seemed to make a habit of going after the people Dean cared about, of course that could also be because the people Dean cared about were more likely to be exposed to demons in general than most. “We’ll deal with Crowley as it comes.”
“Dean? I don’t understand,” Castiel said genuinely confused.
“What’s there to understand? We’re going to butt-fuck Crowley, get Sam’s soul back whether he wants it or not, and break this truly imbecilic deal you made. Then we’ll deal with Raphael that dick really pisses me off. It’ll be a personal high to put him in his place.”
“You’re not angry? Betrayed by my actions and distrust?”
“Oh no, I’m plenty angry, Cas, you have rarely seen me this angry. But you came to me, to us, so we sort this then I’ll be angry.” As an afterthought he added, “Besides there’s only so much anger I can deal with at once and I’d rather focus it on that slimy bastard than at you and Sam.”
The angel couldn’t help the slight upturn his lips made. He’d missed this, missed Dean.
Loud clapping echoed through the small room. “Bravo, bravo! Finally. I’ve been hovering around you two for weeks waiting for this. Now, can we have a little kiss to seal the deal?” Gabriel teased as he sauntered towards them, ignoring Castiel’s eye roll and Dean’s glare. “Deano, you look surprised. Didn’t Cas here tell you of my miraculous return?”
“I guess I forgot to mention, Father saw fit to bring Gabriel back, as well.”
“He’s helping you?” Dean asked incredulously.
“Not exactly, as he puts it he ‘tells me when I’m being as ass’. Though most of that involves you,” his voice turning the slightest bit more gravelly.
Gabriel inclined his head as if looking over a pair of wire rimmed glasses like an admonishing schoolmarm. “I wouldn’t’ve had to if you’d just gone to him in the first place. But that’s neither here nor there.” He slung his arms around the shoulders of both hunter and angel. “Now, we’re all on the same team again, well, maybe not Sammyboy, but close enough.” Gabriel smiled wickedly. “Come on just one kiss?” He pleaded pushing the two men towards each other with deceptively powerful arms, he was an Archangel after all.
“Gabriel,” Cas growled in warning.
“Fine, fine. Ruin my fun.” He let go of the pair. “Call me,” he said in a slow, low, seductive voice, and disappeared once again.
“Sorry about that.” Cas blushed. “Gabriel gets ideas.”
“Hate to admit it, they aren’t all bad.” Dean half joked, half whispered.
Cas’ head snapped up and he stared at Dean, eyes squinting trying to read him.
“Oh, shut up.” Dean defended. Then, “When this is over…”
Cas stepped cautiously towards Dean. “When this is over it is entirely likely that I won’t be here,” Cas reminded him gently.
Dean closed his eyes and grit his teeth. “Don’t say things like that, Cas. Just don’t.”
“Dean.”
The angel was close now; Dean could feel the puff of air as Cas spoke his name. He opened his eyes and pressed a soft, soft kiss on perpetually chapped lips, pulling away before it could deepen. “You’d better survive this ‘cause I want more.”
“Dean,” Cas breathed again.
“Besides, angry sex is the best; next to make-up sex.”
There was a hollow chuckle from a darkened corner or the room then a quiet whoosh of air.
“Gabriel,” they said in unison.
“Happy now!” Dean called to the sky, before turning his attention once more to his angel, the first real smile he’d had in ages on his face. “Let’s figure out how to kick some spiritual ass.”
.
Author: heavenlyxbodies
Pairing: Dean/Cas pre-slash
Rating: PG
Spoilers: let’s just call it S6 and be done with it, yeah
Feedback: Makes me happy, just play nice
Disclaimer(s) can be found here
Warnings/Squicks: none, save my slightly out of practice writing
Summary: It’s time to tell Dean the truth, no matter what Cas believes it will cost him- Dean needs to know.
Written for deancas-xmas 2011 for andrea_deer
AN: So, I’m crap at following prompts even when I start off that way, they always seem to take strange and often tangled turns, but I started with this portion of one prompt I'd love a fic dealing with the Heaven's civil war. It doesn't have to be strictly speaking about that war, but I want Cas trying to deal with that mess, being in danger, fighting his own kind, dealing with doubts and sudden need to bring the order in his Father's absence. That's the general theme I'm most interested at the moment and I'd love any story dealing with this topic.. It strayed into something much simpler and probably sappier with random acts of Gabriel *scratches head* …well, you know how he is, popping in where he’s not wanted then buggering off until he’s good and ready. I hope it can still give you a small smile if nothing else.
~~~~~~~~~
“What are you doing, little brother?” Gabriel drawled, hands oddly bereft of sugary sustenance.
Castiel cast his eyes upward and sighed. “I would have though1t that obvious, Gabriel- waging a war.”
“What, without Deano?”
“Dean is otherwise engaged,” Castiel intoned coldly.
“Pfft,” Gabriel snorted. “He’s miserable playing house and you know it.”
“It is what he wishes. And I will not bring him into this.”
Gabriel studied the younger angel for a few moments, not saying a word. He knew exactly what Castiel was thinking; his brother had grown ever more impossible over the months since the Apocalypse didn’t happen and it was wearing his patience. “Have it your way,” he huffed, disappearing without even his trademark snap.
The moment Gabriel left, Castiel’s shoulders lost some of their rigidity. Gabriel was right of course, he did need Dean, but it wasn’t his place anymore and this battle was the angel’s.
He still wasn’t sure how he’d become the leader of their little rebellion, of course, he knew the actions that had brought him here; what he still didn’t understand was how he’d let it happen. When the Apocalypse didn’t happen and he survived, he had hoped that returning to Heaven would be easier. He hadn’t expected a hoard of angels to look to him for guidance in the ways of free will, and he certainly hadn’t been prepared for Raphael’s wrath. And that first day back had been the best day he’d had since returning to the albeit fractured Host.
Not a day went by that Castiel didn’t think about Dean and not a decision he didn’t wish he could seek Dean’s council on. He didn’t like to think he was lost without Dean, but he was becoming more and more aware that he was. It wasn’t that Dean fixed everything, but he made the hopeless and ridiculous seem plausible. Dean’s bullheaded stubbornness was exactly what he needed for this war. In truth, it was simply what he needed. The war tore at him, the things he had to do, the choices he had to make and always so alone. Gabriel provided his own sort of support- arrogant, self-serving, and flippant as it was; it was still support. Castiel only wished he’d stop bringing Dean into their conversations. It wasn’t helping.
---
When Dean had called him about the trumpet, he was relieved and angry and thrilled in equal measures. He knew he’d been gruff with the man, but he couldn’t afford to drag him into their war. Dean had fought enough spiritual battles without adding this to it.
Gabriel about blew a gasket, when he’d heard. “You had him right there. Just like before and you didn’t so much as talk to him!” the older angel ranted.
Castiel quirked his head, brow crinkled in annoyance. “I spoke to Dean.”
“Yes, but not about anything important,” Gabriel complained.
“What would you have me do, Gabriel?”
“I would have you,” he mocked, “tell him what’s going on. Tell him about Raphael, the war, everything. If anyone could help with this insane enterprise of yours it’s Dean Winchester.”
“Why do you care so much about our war? You abandoned us eons ago.”
The angel sighed and leaned against a conveniently materialized wall and folded his arms over his chest. “Because as much as I hate to admit it you were right. And I didn’t exactly get a chance to help then.”
“This is your idea of helping,” Cas replied in a gravelly dead pan that managed to still hold a certain amount of curiosity.
“Sure it is.” Gabriel munched on what appeared to be a caramel apple. “You need someone to point out that you’re being an ass.”
Cas’ forehead wrinkled and he rubbed at it.
“Cas, little brother, he’s back in the game. There’s no reason for you not to go to him anymore,” Gabriel laid a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “It’s time.” He stepped back, adding, “If you won’t go to him I will,” and he promptly vanished.
A shudder ran down Castiel’s spine. He didn’t want Dean involved. He’d made too many bad choices and if he tried to explain that to Dean he doubted the man would ever trust him again, more than that, he couldn’t bear the look of betrayal he was sure would be on Dean’s face.
---
The next time he saw Dean it was tense, to say the least. And he spent more time than he should’ve with the words echoing in his head. “What happened to you, Cas? You used to be human, or at least like one.”
“I'm at war. Certain... regrettable things are now required of me.”
He wished he’d been brave enough to tell Dean then and there what was truly happening in Heaven, and how it was anything but an idealic afterlife. But he didn’t have the strength- it all came down to that look; he couldn’t handle that look.
He was surprised when Dean called for him because of Sam; he wished he could have been more surprised by Sam coming back… wrong. But what hurt, really, truly hurt, was how betrayed and angry Dean was over Sam not telling him. It wasn’t that Sam was soulless, what mattered was that Sam didn’t tell him there was something wrong to begin with, that he had to find out the way he did, cloaked in secrets and lies. It made Cas feel no better than the soulless half-person Sam was, and he was supposed to be the one Dean could trust. Which was why when he felt Dean call him the next day, he came without hesitation.
The moment he appeared, Dean started with the questions. “Cas, what’s going on with you, man? You’re not you, and with Sammy… I gotta know if there’s something.”
“Dean, I-” He didn’t know what to say; he swallowed a dry lump in his throat. “The war… it’s not as simple as it would seem.”
A mirthless grunt of a sound came from the hunter. “War’s never simple, Cas. Add a bunch of uptight winged idiots and it can only get worse.”
Cas hung his head turning to the side as he often did when he was insecure or uncertain of his actions.
Dean sighed heavily and laid a hand on his angel’s shoulder. “What’s really happening, Cas, please?” he asked sincerely.
It was the ‘please’, he was sure of it. Denying Dean anything was hard enough for him, but with such a plaintiff voice he couldn’t ignore him or lie. “I fear… I know I have made some bad decisions since returning to the Host.”
“What kind of bad decisions?” Dean asked warily, a fog of concern clouding his face.
Cas cocked his head and gave Dean a withering look that clearly said ‘What do you think?’.
Dean rubbed his face in his hands. “Are we talking trading my soul for Sammy bad or Sam saying ‘yes’ bad?”
“It’s hard to say,” Cas admitted.
“Damn, Cas.” Dean rubbed his forehead with his thumb on his temple. “I’m gonna need a drink for this, several I’m willing to bet.” A hand holding a 1.75L bottle of Black Label appeared in front of his face. Sighing, he took the bottle. “Glasses?”
“Of course,” he set two tumblers on the rickety table next to them.
Dean cracked open the bottle and poured for them both, throwing his back in one swift, practiced movement then pouring himself another. “Well?”
Cas sat down, gulping his own drink, resigned to being on the receiving end of Dean’s ire, and began speaking.
When Cas finished talking, half the bottle was gone and the angel still hadn’t touched his second glass.
Dean’s face was unreadable- eyes hard, jaw set.
It had yet to turn into the expression Cas was expecting- one of betrayal and loathing. “Dean.”
He hung his head and took a deep weighty breath, “Cas…,” he breathed. “You’re smarter than that.” He looked up eyes full of sorrow and frustration. He blamed himself. Cas learned to be human from him- and Sam and Bobby- but he was the start and the finish. If ever there was a more dysfunctional family to learn values from. Dean shook his head trying to shake his own regrets away for the moment; he had to focus on Cas, right now. “Why didn’t you come to me? Or Bobby? You’re family; we would’ve found a way. We still will. But no more going off on your own or half-cocked or whatever it is you angels do when you’re starting a war and no Crowley,” Dean practically growled the demon’s name- he seemed to make a habit of going after the people Dean cared about, of course that could also be because the people Dean cared about were more likely to be exposed to demons in general than most. “We’ll deal with Crowley as it comes.”
“Dean? I don’t understand,” Castiel said genuinely confused.
“What’s there to understand? We’re going to butt-fuck Crowley, get Sam’s soul back whether he wants it or not, and break this truly imbecilic deal you made. Then we’ll deal with Raphael that dick really pisses me off. It’ll be a personal high to put him in his place.”
“You’re not angry? Betrayed by my actions and distrust?”
“Oh no, I’m plenty angry, Cas, you have rarely seen me this angry. But you came to me, to us, so we sort this then I’ll be angry.” As an afterthought he added, “Besides there’s only so much anger I can deal with at once and I’d rather focus it on that slimy bastard than at you and Sam.”
The angel couldn’t help the slight upturn his lips made. He’d missed this, missed Dean.
Loud clapping echoed through the small room. “Bravo, bravo! Finally. I’ve been hovering around you two for weeks waiting for this. Now, can we have a little kiss to seal the deal?” Gabriel teased as he sauntered towards them, ignoring Castiel’s eye roll and Dean’s glare. “Deano, you look surprised. Didn’t Cas here tell you of my miraculous return?”
“I guess I forgot to mention, Father saw fit to bring Gabriel back, as well.”
“He’s helping you?” Dean asked incredulously.
“Not exactly, as he puts it he ‘tells me when I’m being as ass’. Though most of that involves you,” his voice turning the slightest bit more gravelly.
Gabriel inclined his head as if looking over a pair of wire rimmed glasses like an admonishing schoolmarm. “I wouldn’t’ve had to if you’d just gone to him in the first place. But that’s neither here nor there.” He slung his arms around the shoulders of both hunter and angel. “Now, we’re all on the same team again, well, maybe not Sammyboy, but close enough.” Gabriel smiled wickedly. “Come on just one kiss?” He pleaded pushing the two men towards each other with deceptively powerful arms, he was an Archangel after all.
“Gabriel,” Cas growled in warning.
“Fine, fine. Ruin my fun.” He let go of the pair. “Call me,” he said in a slow, low, seductive voice, and disappeared once again.
“Sorry about that.” Cas blushed. “Gabriel gets ideas.”
“Hate to admit it, they aren’t all bad.” Dean half joked, half whispered.
Cas’ head snapped up and he stared at Dean, eyes squinting trying to read him.
“Oh, shut up.” Dean defended. Then, “When this is over…”
Cas stepped cautiously towards Dean. “When this is over it is entirely likely that I won’t be here,” Cas reminded him gently.
Dean closed his eyes and grit his teeth. “Don’t say things like that, Cas. Just don’t.”
“Dean.”
The angel was close now; Dean could feel the puff of air as Cas spoke his name. He opened his eyes and pressed a soft, soft kiss on perpetually chapped lips, pulling away before it could deepen. “You’d better survive this ‘cause I want more.”
“Dean,” Cas breathed again.
“Besides, angry sex is the best; next to make-up sex.”
There was a hollow chuckle from a darkened corner or the room then a quiet whoosh of air.
“Gabriel,” they said in unison.
“Happy now!” Dean called to the sky, before turning his attention once more to his angel, the first real smile he’d had in ages on his face. “Let’s figure out how to kick some spiritual ass.”
.