.
CROSS YOUR HARD HEART (AND HOPE TO DIE)
dean/castiel, zechariah. spoilers for 4x20. rated pg-13. ~2,400
And maybe they're both ruined.
a/n: written for spn13 prompt ruin.
(c) title from film noir by the gaslight anthem
cross your hard heart (and hope to die)
Zechariah talks to Castiel while Dean is awake.
He has ruined you.
Zecheriah's vessel is a kind, simple man. The look of disgust in his eyes is not normal; wrong. It doesn't fit with the soft heart of the man he inhabits.
Castiel, you have lost track of your ways.
Castiel knows; he knows, he knows, he knows, he fucking knows and it's loud and angry in his head every day. How much he has strayed, how much he has faltered from his path. Unholy, unrighteous.
Zechariah is close now. Leans close. And he won't look away. Not until Castiel does, but he never can.
This must stop.
-
Dean is stronger than Castiel thought, but not in the ways he would have anticipated. He realized it the first moment they met.
It's gonna kill me, Cas. Taking care of Sam. Making sure he's okay, that he doesn't become... become whatever it is he's supposed to be.
His soul is malleable and weak; easy to intrude and easy to manipulate. His head is an open book that Castiel has no joy reading; it's all there, right there in front of his eyes, in his body and written on his face. He lets everything in and he lets it get to him in the worst ways. He is riddled with holes and imperfections and little dents in his aluminum armour and it's as easy as breaking down the wall to get in.
He's ruined me.
But he doesn't let his brother get to him. Not often enough that Castiel can't tell what it is about Sam that is bothering him. For a long time, Castiel believed that Dean was just oblivious to Sam's secrets, to Sam's path of destruction, but he soon realized that Dean was strong enough just to ignore it, even when it was so painfully obvious.
This life, this job, these deals... it's ruined me.
Castiel knows Dean is just a pawn for his Father. That his only purpose is to stop the apocalypse and nothing else of Dean's well being matters, as long as he is strong enough to stop the end of world.
So, Castiel sees him, sees Dean, alone when he is most vulnerable and this is the first time Castiel gets a taste of what is meant to be human. He was always curious, always wondering, but now, now he is not envious of them. Not when he sees Dean. The miracles of the human heart is too much for him to bear.
And Castiel reports back and says, Yes, Father, he is strong. He is ready. Castiel wonders if God knows he's lying.
-
Zechariah shows up in odd places to confront him. Diners, amusement parks, empty warehouses.
You know why you are here. You know why I have come.
It's in his head. It's on his tongue. It's trickling down his fingers and hands and arms. It's all over and Castiel knows that God has found out he is lying.
You have been spending too much time with Dean. His human tendencies are starting to become apparent in you.
Castiel knows this. Castiel knows that he is falling and it's painful and humiliating because now everyone is watching him.
Those thoughts in your head, Castiel. Those urges you have... you know what they are. And you know what we think of them.
And he knows he knows he knows.
-
Dean is a heavy weight that Castiel chooses to carry. He wasn't supposed to care, but he does and he wants to know how to stop, but no one will tell him.
And Dean doesn't know, doesn't understand how much he has given because Dean can never understand this. And he doesn't understand how much Castiel has let down his fellow angels, his garrison, his Father, because Dean can't believe in God and holy spirits because Dean can't believe in what is right in front of his eyes.
And it's going to ruin Castiel. It's going to kill him.
-
In daylight, Dean fights. And at night, he dreams.
Castiel sees both. He tries to understand why humans dream, but with what Dean sees, what Dean does and what his silence reveals, Castiel can reason why Dean dreams.
The fishing hole is an escape and Castiel almost feels intrusive. He is calm there. Never this calm in daylight; fidgety fingers and always on edge. He never stops moving, running, breathing, falling falling falling. And he blames himself for everything that has gone wrong, but here... here, it doesn't matter what happens when he is awake.
And Castiel is frightened to take that away from him.
-
There was a day, long before this all happened, when Dean stood in front of Castiel, awkward and speechless.
Cas...
Yes?
Dean had those hungry, empty eyes. There was nothing primal or evil about it - so different from his brother's savage eyes. Soft and desolate. Castiel was confused.
Is there something bothering you?
Dean shook his head. Chuckled, nervous, almost, and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Castiel was never one to pick up on human's body movements and what they meant. It was all in their eyes, Castiel learned.
I, uh... no, nothing. Just forget it.
But this, this he couldn't understand.
-
Castiel knows what's going to happen before Zechariah calls on him. It's in his head and it's on his tongue and he can feel it in his fingers, in his stomach, in his heart.
Zechariah meets him in the empty warehouse. He is not alone. He has that look, that look that is unusual and distorted on the kind man's face. A painting with the wrong colours.
You know what this is about.
Yes.
Zechariah turns and holds out his hand. Welcoming, in all it's deceitful kindness and wicked intentions.
You must come with us, Castiel.
No.
Zechariah doesn't move. The angels stiffen.
No? Castiel, this is not a matter of choice, but of direct orders.
I will not go. I have a mission here. I have a responsibility.
Zechariah frowns.
Do you not understand? You have ruined all your chances as staying here as a guardian. We are relieving you of your duties.
Castiel steps back; it's in his head, on his tongue, trickling down his arms and in his heart.
I don't have responsibilities to you. I have to stay with Dean. For Dean.
Zechariah cocks his head. A sly smirk creeps on his lips.
For Dean?
He needs me, Zechariah. Castiel feels something light and cold run through him, rushing and quick energy that over takes him and he feels invincible. You would not understand. You do not know.
But that foul look in the man's eyes tells Castiel that he knows.
-
Up in Heaven, Castiel hears Dean. He hears him pray into the darkness for him to come back, that he needs him, needs him.
Zechariah hears him, too. Dean is an open book.
You know what will happen if you go back to the same way you were, he comments lightly.
The angels are forgiving. Merciful. Castiel is grateful.
We have discussed this before. It clouds your judgement and you, of all the angels, should know that best.
Castiel doesn't endure the things Dean did when he was in Hell, but he feels as if there could be nothing worse. But he is grateful. His Father is giving him a second chance.
You have been given a very important mission, Castiel. You know what is at stake here. Zechariah's angel form is menacing; large and all dark light, towering over Castiel, wide, white eyes keeping him in his place. He demands order, vigilance and attention with his presence. But he is loving. Loving and forgiving. Do not ruin this.
In Heaven, there are no shackles or chains, knives or tools; there is only your own unnerving truth.
-
He comes back relieved.
There is Dean and he is waiting. The light, sweeping air that rushes through; in his head, on his tongue.
But then there is Zechariah; the presence, the white, white eyes, the wrong colours on the right face. (You know what will happen.)
And maybe Castiel finally understands why Dean made that deal for Sam and why it's better to make rash decisions without thinking first.
I serve Heaven, I don't serve man.
And maybe Castiel finally understands why he must do this.
And I certainly don't serve you.
And maybe Castiel is ruined.
-
A thousand miles away, too many towns to count, Castiel finally catches up with Dean. It's been days and days and Castiel knows he can only stay away for so long, but he is vulnerable, like Dean (human, like Dean). Vulnerable when he is around Dean.
(Maybe Zechariah was right.)
He stands outside of the hotel room door and he doesn't know what he is waiting for. Why he is waiting because Dean won't come. Dean is running. Running from has happened to him, to his brother, to the world.
But he waits anyway.
-
Two towns over, Dean has moved again. Dean is restless. He is anxious, but for all the wrong reasons. For different reasons. Sam is out of control and locked away and maybe Dean just doesn't question it, not like he wants to. He is strong enough, still.
So, Dean sits on a park bench and Castiel waits.
And that's when Dean gives in, a quiet, heavy sigh and the simple words, Cas, please.
Castiel is sitting beside Dean. Dean doesn't move. They sit on the bench in silence and never look at each other. Castiel is vulnerable; feels open and wounded. He wonders if Zechariah knows. If God knows.
What happened to you, Cas?
I realize I went astray.
So, what now?
We stop Lucifer.
Dean looks up at Castiel. There's something in those eyes... something Castiel can't read. He's afraid, now, afraid that Dean is no longer so easy to interpret. The wall is higher, stronger. Castiel cannot break through.
That's it?
(He pauses as if he wants to say something, to ask for something, but he looks away.)
And Castiel doesn't know what he means. Castiel doesn't know what Dean wants, but he know what he wants (in his head, on his tongue, feels in it in his hands and heart). You know what will happen.
Castiel looks back to the playground; the red and blue metal, plastic yellow slides and sand. Yes. That's it.
That's when Dean leaves. And Castiel understands.
-
The motel is empty when Castiel arrives that night. The Impala is gone, but his bags and their contents are littered across the beds, table and floor. So, he waits.
When Dean comes back, he enters the room quietly. He seems defeated. When he spots Castiel standing in the corner, he just looks away. He is strong enough.
Is Sam still locked away?
Dean drops his duffel on the floor and shrugs off his coat. He moves slow and languid, but his eyes are not tired.
Why? Do you suddenly care again?
I do not. (He lies.) I want to know if you are keeping him under control. (Father forgive him, how he lies.)
Dean shoots him a quick, fevered look before opening his duffel furiously and takes out his guns and knives. As much as I can, yeah.
Good.
All Castiel hears is the clinking of metal against metal, silver against silver as Dean methodically cleans out his bag and organizes his weapons. Castiel watches the tension build in Dean's shoulder and Castiel feels his own anxiety grow.
After minutes of stillness, Dean slams his fists down on the table and lets out a low, harsh, disgruntled yell.
Castiel stiffens in shock.
What the fuck, Cas? What the fuck happened to you up there?
Castiel is at loss for words, for the right words, for the words to make this stop, to make it better, so he just stares as Dean comes closer, his eyes wild and ferocious, his voice livid and hopeless. He looks so hopeless.
You were somebody, Cas. And they took that away from you! How could you let them do that? God, for one second I thought you actually - He suddenly stops there; his face falls and his eyes go blank. And he just stares.
But Castiel wants to know, needs to understand this, finally.
There is only a small gap between them. Castiel steps forward; they're too close and Dean is breathing heavily. What, Dean? You thought I what?
His eyes flicker and his hands shake. His voice is low and hushed, whispering, like he doesn't want Castiel to know, like he is scared of what will happen after: I thought you cared. I thought you cared about me.
Castiel grabs Dean's hand; a sharp, quick movement that leaves him breathless, the cool light washing over him. He is invincible, a human dreamer and believer. He is weightless and empty, but he is hopeful. And he can feel it, this, all of this so suddenly.
I thought you loved me, Cas, Dean whispers, words mixing in his haste. His eyes widen and he's there, right there in front of Castiel and he's said it.
I did. (And God forgive him, how he lied for so long.) I still do.
Dean's hands grasp the side of Castiel's face, pulling their lips together; they barely touch, breath caught on the tips of their tongues and Castiel is weightless in Dean's grip. It's bliss and anger and this human forgiveness; things he never thought he could feel, but it's there in the roughness of Dean's lips, the roughness of his hands and the rushed ferocity that they both grab onto.
And it's in his head, and on his tongue, and it's in his hands; the soft cotton of Dean's shirt as he pulls him close, the fine tickle of hairs on the back of his neck, the wet, hot skin across his arms.
Christ, Cas. Dean breathes fast and light; he holds on still, their foreheads resting on each other. Jesus fucking Christ, Cas.
And Dean is giving up, falling into Castiel, falling to his knees, and Castiel catches him, holds him like he can fix this, like Dean really isn't this broken (but he is and, God, how Castiel lies to himself, but he is).
They are kneeling by the bed and Castiel is frightened. Dean is holding too tight.
I thought you weren't going to come back. I thought you had left me for good.
Castiel pulls Dean closer; holds on just as tight.
I need you here, Cas. I need you.
And maybe they're both ruined.
end.
But nobody's ever going to tear you away
You gotta figure it out boys
It's all for the rain, and the fools in the night, and the heat in the day
When all you ever really wanted was someone to understand
film noir - the gaslight anthem
dean/castiel, zechariah. spoilers for 4x20. rated pg-13. ~2,400
And maybe they're both ruined.
a/n: written for spn13 prompt ruin.
(c) title from film noir by the gaslight anthem
cross your hard heart (and hope to die)
Zechariah talks to Castiel while Dean is awake.
He has ruined you.
Zecheriah's vessel is a kind, simple man. The look of disgust in his eyes is not normal; wrong. It doesn't fit with the soft heart of the man he inhabits.
Castiel, you have lost track of your ways.
Castiel knows; he knows, he knows, he knows, he fucking knows and it's loud and angry in his head every day. How much he has strayed, how much he has faltered from his path. Unholy, unrighteous.
Zechariah is close now. Leans close. And he won't look away. Not until Castiel does, but he never can.
This must stop.
-
Dean is stronger than Castiel thought, but not in the ways he would have anticipated. He realized it the first moment they met.
It's gonna kill me, Cas. Taking care of Sam. Making sure he's okay, that he doesn't become... become whatever it is he's supposed to be.
His soul is malleable and weak; easy to intrude and easy to manipulate. His head is an open book that Castiel has no joy reading; it's all there, right there in front of his eyes, in his body and written on his face. He lets everything in and he lets it get to him in the worst ways. He is riddled with holes and imperfections and little dents in his aluminum armour and it's as easy as breaking down the wall to get in.
He's ruined me.
But he doesn't let his brother get to him. Not often enough that Castiel can't tell what it is about Sam that is bothering him. For a long time, Castiel believed that Dean was just oblivious to Sam's secrets, to Sam's path of destruction, but he soon realized that Dean was strong enough just to ignore it, even when it was so painfully obvious.
This life, this job, these deals... it's ruined me.
Castiel knows Dean is just a pawn for his Father. That his only purpose is to stop the apocalypse and nothing else of Dean's well being matters, as long as he is strong enough to stop the end of world.
So, Castiel sees him, sees Dean, alone when he is most vulnerable and this is the first time Castiel gets a taste of what is meant to be human. He was always curious, always wondering, but now, now he is not envious of them. Not when he sees Dean. The miracles of the human heart is too much for him to bear.
And Castiel reports back and says, Yes, Father, he is strong. He is ready. Castiel wonders if God knows he's lying.
-
Zechariah shows up in odd places to confront him. Diners, amusement parks, empty warehouses.
You know why you are here. You know why I have come.
It's in his head. It's on his tongue. It's trickling down his fingers and hands and arms. It's all over and Castiel knows that God has found out he is lying.
You have been spending too much time with Dean. His human tendencies are starting to become apparent in you.
Castiel knows this. Castiel knows that he is falling and it's painful and humiliating because now everyone is watching him.
Those thoughts in your head, Castiel. Those urges you have... you know what they are. And you know what we think of them.
And he knows he knows he knows.
-
Dean is a heavy weight that Castiel chooses to carry. He wasn't supposed to care, but he does and he wants to know how to stop, but no one will tell him.
And Dean doesn't know, doesn't understand how much he has given because Dean can never understand this. And he doesn't understand how much Castiel has let down his fellow angels, his garrison, his Father, because Dean can't believe in God and holy spirits because Dean can't believe in what is right in front of his eyes.
And it's going to ruin Castiel. It's going to kill him.
-
In daylight, Dean fights. And at night, he dreams.
Castiel sees both. He tries to understand why humans dream, but with what Dean sees, what Dean does and what his silence reveals, Castiel can reason why Dean dreams.
The fishing hole is an escape and Castiel almost feels intrusive. He is calm there. Never this calm in daylight; fidgety fingers and always on edge. He never stops moving, running, breathing, falling falling falling. And he blames himself for everything that has gone wrong, but here... here, it doesn't matter what happens when he is awake.
And Castiel is frightened to take that away from him.
-
There was a day, long before this all happened, when Dean stood in front of Castiel, awkward and speechless.
Cas...
Yes?
Dean had those hungry, empty eyes. There was nothing primal or evil about it - so different from his brother's savage eyes. Soft and desolate. Castiel was confused.
Is there something bothering you?
Dean shook his head. Chuckled, nervous, almost, and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Castiel was never one to pick up on human's body movements and what they meant. It was all in their eyes, Castiel learned.
I, uh... no, nothing. Just forget it.
But this, this he couldn't understand.
-
Castiel knows what's going to happen before Zechariah calls on him. It's in his head and it's on his tongue and he can feel it in his fingers, in his stomach, in his heart.
Zechariah meets him in the empty warehouse. He is not alone. He has that look, that look that is unusual and distorted on the kind man's face. A painting with the wrong colours.
You know what this is about.
Yes.
Zechariah turns and holds out his hand. Welcoming, in all it's deceitful kindness and wicked intentions.
You must come with us, Castiel.
No.
Zechariah doesn't move. The angels stiffen.
No? Castiel, this is not a matter of choice, but of direct orders.
I will not go. I have a mission here. I have a responsibility.
Zechariah frowns.
Do you not understand? You have ruined all your chances as staying here as a guardian. We are relieving you of your duties.
Castiel steps back; it's in his head, on his tongue, trickling down his arms and in his heart.
I don't have responsibilities to you. I have to stay with Dean. For Dean.
Zechariah cocks his head. A sly smirk creeps on his lips.
For Dean?
He needs me, Zechariah. Castiel feels something light and cold run through him, rushing and quick energy that over takes him and he feels invincible. You would not understand. You do not know.
But that foul look in the man's eyes tells Castiel that he knows.
-
Up in Heaven, Castiel hears Dean. He hears him pray into the darkness for him to come back, that he needs him, needs him.
Zechariah hears him, too. Dean is an open book.
You know what will happen if you go back to the same way you were, he comments lightly.
The angels are forgiving. Merciful. Castiel is grateful.
We have discussed this before. It clouds your judgement and you, of all the angels, should know that best.
Castiel doesn't endure the things Dean did when he was in Hell, but he feels as if there could be nothing worse. But he is grateful. His Father is giving him a second chance.
You have been given a very important mission, Castiel. You know what is at stake here. Zechariah's angel form is menacing; large and all dark light, towering over Castiel, wide, white eyes keeping him in his place. He demands order, vigilance and attention with his presence. But he is loving. Loving and forgiving. Do not ruin this.
In Heaven, there are no shackles or chains, knives or tools; there is only your own unnerving truth.
-
He comes back relieved.
There is Dean and he is waiting. The light, sweeping air that rushes through; in his head, on his tongue.
But then there is Zechariah; the presence, the white, white eyes, the wrong colours on the right face. (You know what will happen.)
And maybe Castiel finally understands why Dean made that deal for Sam and why it's better to make rash decisions without thinking first.
I serve Heaven, I don't serve man.
And maybe Castiel finally understands why he must do this.
And I certainly don't serve you.
And maybe Castiel is ruined.
-
A thousand miles away, too many towns to count, Castiel finally catches up with Dean. It's been days and days and Castiel knows he can only stay away for so long, but he is vulnerable, like Dean (human, like Dean). Vulnerable when he is around Dean.
(Maybe Zechariah was right.)
He stands outside of the hotel room door and he doesn't know what he is waiting for. Why he is waiting because Dean won't come. Dean is running. Running from has happened to him, to his brother, to the world.
But he waits anyway.
-
Two towns over, Dean has moved again. Dean is restless. He is anxious, but for all the wrong reasons. For different reasons. Sam is out of control and locked away and maybe Dean just doesn't question it, not like he wants to. He is strong enough, still.
So, Dean sits on a park bench and Castiel waits.
And that's when Dean gives in, a quiet, heavy sigh and the simple words, Cas, please.
Castiel is sitting beside Dean. Dean doesn't move. They sit on the bench in silence and never look at each other. Castiel is vulnerable; feels open and wounded. He wonders if Zechariah knows. If God knows.
What happened to you, Cas?
I realize I went astray.
So, what now?
We stop Lucifer.
Dean looks up at Castiel. There's something in those eyes... something Castiel can't read. He's afraid, now, afraid that Dean is no longer so easy to interpret. The wall is higher, stronger. Castiel cannot break through.
That's it?
(He pauses as if he wants to say something, to ask for something, but he looks away.)
And Castiel doesn't know what he means. Castiel doesn't know what Dean wants, but he know what he wants (in his head, on his tongue, feels in it in his hands and heart). You know what will happen.
Castiel looks back to the playground; the red and blue metal, plastic yellow slides and sand. Yes. That's it.
That's when Dean leaves. And Castiel understands.
-
The motel is empty when Castiel arrives that night. The Impala is gone, but his bags and their contents are littered across the beds, table and floor. So, he waits.
When Dean comes back, he enters the room quietly. He seems defeated. When he spots Castiel standing in the corner, he just looks away. He is strong enough.
Is Sam still locked away?
Dean drops his duffel on the floor and shrugs off his coat. He moves slow and languid, but his eyes are not tired.
Why? Do you suddenly care again?
I do not. (He lies.) I want to know if you are keeping him under control. (Father forgive him, how he lies.)
Dean shoots him a quick, fevered look before opening his duffel furiously and takes out his guns and knives. As much as I can, yeah.
Good.
All Castiel hears is the clinking of metal against metal, silver against silver as Dean methodically cleans out his bag and organizes his weapons. Castiel watches the tension build in Dean's shoulder and Castiel feels his own anxiety grow.
After minutes of stillness, Dean slams his fists down on the table and lets out a low, harsh, disgruntled yell.
Castiel stiffens in shock.
What the fuck, Cas? What the fuck happened to you up there?
Castiel is at loss for words, for the right words, for the words to make this stop, to make it better, so he just stares as Dean comes closer, his eyes wild and ferocious, his voice livid and hopeless. He looks so hopeless.
You were somebody, Cas. And they took that away from you! How could you let them do that? God, for one second I thought you actually - He suddenly stops there; his face falls and his eyes go blank. And he just stares.
But Castiel wants to know, needs to understand this, finally.
There is only a small gap between them. Castiel steps forward; they're too close and Dean is breathing heavily. What, Dean? You thought I what?
His eyes flicker and his hands shake. His voice is low and hushed, whispering, like he doesn't want Castiel to know, like he is scared of what will happen after: I thought you cared. I thought you cared about me.
Castiel grabs Dean's hand; a sharp, quick movement that leaves him breathless, the cool light washing over him. He is invincible, a human dreamer and believer. He is weightless and empty, but he is hopeful. And he can feel it, this, all of this so suddenly.
I thought you loved me, Cas, Dean whispers, words mixing in his haste. His eyes widen and he's there, right there in front of Castiel and he's said it.
I did. (And God forgive him, how he lied for so long.) I still do.
Dean's hands grasp the side of Castiel's face, pulling their lips together; they barely touch, breath caught on the tips of their tongues and Castiel is weightless in Dean's grip. It's bliss and anger and this human forgiveness; things he never thought he could feel, but it's there in the roughness of Dean's lips, the roughness of his hands and the rushed ferocity that they both grab onto.
And it's in his head, and on his tongue, and it's in his hands; the soft cotton of Dean's shirt as he pulls him close, the fine tickle of hairs on the back of his neck, the wet, hot skin across his arms.
Christ, Cas. Dean breathes fast and light; he holds on still, their foreheads resting on each other. Jesus fucking Christ, Cas.
And Dean is giving up, falling into Castiel, falling to his knees, and Castiel catches him, holds him like he can fix this, like Dean really isn't this broken (but he is and, God, how Castiel lies to himself, but he is).
They are kneeling by the bed and Castiel is frightened. Dean is holding too tight.
I thought you weren't going to come back. I thought you had left me for good.
Castiel pulls Dean closer; holds on just as tight.
I need you here, Cas. I need you.
And maybe they're both ruined.
end.
But nobody's ever going to tear you away
You gotta figure it out boys
It's all for the rain, and the fools in the night, and the heat in the day
When all you ever really wanted was someone to understand
film noir - the gaslight anthem