It'll Be Okay
Title: It'll Be Okay
Author: Ru_salki99
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to CW/WB
Summary: Post 5x14 - Castiel let's Dean know that he's not on his own.
Crouching down on the ground, Dean tossed the half drunk bottle away from him, watching liquid spill out from it for a moment before he let himself break down completely. He cradled his head in his hands, his entire body shaking with the pain and the hurt from the last twenty four hours.
They’d luckily not been too far from Bobby’s and Sam had actually been the one to suggest the panic room this time round, so that’s why they came here. And now he was in their longer than he had been last time, so he knew it would only be a couple of days more before he was okay again, or at least, not high again.
It nearly killed him when he’d first realised what Sam had been doing, but the severity of it, the fact that it was ultimately going to be with Sam, haunting him, for the rest of his life, broke him up even more.
Castiel was breaking, becoming more human by the hour. Seeing that, knowing it was his fault hurt just as much. A year ago and Castiel wouldn’t have been affected by Famine. His vessel, Jimmy, wouldn’t have been able to influence his actions in anyway. And the fact that Jimmy was actually still in there didn’t help things either. What was going to happen to him when Castiel finally fell? Would they merge? Would Cas develop a split personality? Or would Jimmy move on, leaving Castiel behind to take over care of his body.
But all of that, all the shit with Sam, Castiel and Jimmy, none of it, none matched up to what Famine had told him, what he had said about him. And the reason it hurt so much? Because it was true. He was dead inside. Or at least, that’s how he felt most of the time. Ever since his little trip to the future and even though Castiel told him it was one of many possible futures, he knew that there was still a good chance things would end up that way.
And then, what little hope he did have just up and disappeared when the Colt failed to work.
So yeah, he was a little bit dead inside. He had nothing left. Nothing left but the overwhelming urge to protect Sammy at all costs. But that was pretty much engrained in him, it was part of him. He couldn’t imagine a time when he wouldn’t feel that. Which was why he was out here, sobbing his heart out because he almost said yes. He’d almost done it. Let the bastard in. After all these months of running from him, saying no, a couple of honestly spoken words had him ready to give in.
He stayed out there for God knows how long, just crying. He’d never cried like this before, never felt so utterly desolate and alone that he’d had to cry like this. But eventually, his tears stopped coming and his body stopped shaking and he was left staring out over scrapped cars as he calmed himself down.
When he felt it was safe, that he no longer looked like a mess, he picked himself up and headed back into the house.
Bobby was sitting at his desk, nursing a beer and reading over some book, silence encompassing them.
“Sam?” he asked.
“Stopped shouting about a half hour ago,” Bobby said without looking up, “The angel said he’d fallen asleep. Tired himself out. He took off soon after.”
Dean nodded, he supposed he couldn’t really blame Castiel for not coming to say goodbye, “Good,” he said, “And the angel has a name you know,” he added, “He’s been fighting alongside us for months now, least you could do is respect him enough to call him by his own name.”
Bobby slowly raised his head to look at him, “I respect him plenty,” he said, “But you become friends with someone, you’re just bound to get hurt,” he added before turning back to his book.
Dean realised then that Bobby’s impersonal use of the title, was just his way of protecting himself, and well he couldn’t really blame him for that, “I’m gonna head to bed,” he said, “Wake me if Sam starts shouting again.”
Bobby grunted in agreement, not looking up at him as he walked past and headed up the stairs to the guest room. Walking there felt like trying to run through toffee. His legs were heavy and body aching. It took an eternity to get to the room and when he did, he all but fell onto the old, musty mattress.
As his eyes fell closed, he soon realised that he had a headache, concentrating at the front of his temple. He should probably have drank some water, or took some aspirin or something considering the half bottle of whisky he’d drank. But the hour spent crying like a baby seemed to sober him up. But that was probably what had caused the headache.
Rolling over onto his side, he took a deep breath in, hoping that it would help alleviate some of the pain but it didn’t. He was probably stuck with it until he got his ass up out of bed and take something for it, but before he could, he felt the bed dip behind him.
“What do you want Cas?” he asked in a sigh.
“I heard you,” Castiel said quietly, “I thought… I thought you were going to say yes.”
Dean squeezed his eyes closed, certain that if he kept them open the tears would start again, “Would it matter?” he asked, “Michael would get rid of Lucifer and all this would be over.”
“Of course it matters,” Castiel said as he put a hand on Dean’s arm, pushing at him gently so that he was lying on his back.
“Why?” Dean asked, “I mean we don’t really have another option here.”
“Yes we do,” Castiel told him, “God will be found,” he assured him, “You just need a little bit of hope and He will come.”
“Hope?” Dean asked with a snort of laughter, “Sorry, but I’ve used up my hope quota for this year.”
“Dean you must have hope,” Castiel told him, leaning over him, “I need you to have hope Dean, I need you.”
As Castiel’s words sank in, Dean looked up into his eyes, seeing desperation and worry there, mixed in with hurt. He’d hurt Castiel. He hadn’t meant to but he just… reaching up, he gently cupped his face, “I never meant to hurt you Cas. I just don’t know if I can do this anymore. I keep losing everyone I care about, slowly but surely, they all disappear. It’s only a matter of time before Sam gives in to the blood and says yes, and I can’t lose him, I can’t.”
He was crying again, but he couldn’t stop it, not even when Castiel leaned down and placed the gentlest of kisses upon his lips.
“I’m not going anywhere Dean,” he said, “And I know I can’t replace your brother, but I’ll always be here for you.”
Dean cried harder at that, unable to hold it all back. But unlike outside amongst the cars, Castiel was there, holding him and letting him know that it was okay. That it would, in the end, be okay.
THE END
Author: Ru_salki99
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to CW/WB
Summary: Post 5x14 - Castiel let's Dean know that he's not on his own.
Crouching down on the ground, Dean tossed the half drunk bottle away from him, watching liquid spill out from it for a moment before he let himself break down completely. He cradled his head in his hands, his entire body shaking with the pain and the hurt from the last twenty four hours.
They’d luckily not been too far from Bobby’s and Sam had actually been the one to suggest the panic room this time round, so that’s why they came here. And now he was in their longer than he had been last time, so he knew it would only be a couple of days more before he was okay again, or at least, not high again.
It nearly killed him when he’d first realised what Sam had been doing, but the severity of it, the fact that it was ultimately going to be with Sam, haunting him, for the rest of his life, broke him up even more.
Castiel was breaking, becoming more human by the hour. Seeing that, knowing it was his fault hurt just as much. A year ago and Castiel wouldn’t have been affected by Famine. His vessel, Jimmy, wouldn’t have been able to influence his actions in anyway. And the fact that Jimmy was actually still in there didn’t help things either. What was going to happen to him when Castiel finally fell? Would they merge? Would Cas develop a split personality? Or would Jimmy move on, leaving Castiel behind to take over care of his body.
But all of that, all the shit with Sam, Castiel and Jimmy, none of it, none matched up to what Famine had told him, what he had said about him. And the reason it hurt so much? Because it was true. He was dead inside. Or at least, that’s how he felt most of the time. Ever since his little trip to the future and even though Castiel told him it was one of many possible futures, he knew that there was still a good chance things would end up that way.
And then, what little hope he did have just up and disappeared when the Colt failed to work.
So yeah, he was a little bit dead inside. He had nothing left. Nothing left but the overwhelming urge to protect Sammy at all costs. But that was pretty much engrained in him, it was part of him. He couldn’t imagine a time when he wouldn’t feel that. Which was why he was out here, sobbing his heart out because he almost said yes. He’d almost done it. Let the bastard in. After all these months of running from him, saying no, a couple of honestly spoken words had him ready to give in.
He stayed out there for God knows how long, just crying. He’d never cried like this before, never felt so utterly desolate and alone that he’d had to cry like this. But eventually, his tears stopped coming and his body stopped shaking and he was left staring out over scrapped cars as he calmed himself down.
When he felt it was safe, that he no longer looked like a mess, he picked himself up and headed back into the house.
Bobby was sitting at his desk, nursing a beer and reading over some book, silence encompassing them.
“Sam?” he asked.
“Stopped shouting about a half hour ago,” Bobby said without looking up, “The angel said he’d fallen asleep. Tired himself out. He took off soon after.”
Dean nodded, he supposed he couldn’t really blame Castiel for not coming to say goodbye, “Good,” he said, “And the angel has a name you know,” he added, “He’s been fighting alongside us for months now, least you could do is respect him enough to call him by his own name.”
Bobby slowly raised his head to look at him, “I respect him plenty,” he said, “But you become friends with someone, you’re just bound to get hurt,” he added before turning back to his book.
Dean realised then that Bobby’s impersonal use of the title, was just his way of protecting himself, and well he couldn’t really blame him for that, “I’m gonna head to bed,” he said, “Wake me if Sam starts shouting again.”
Bobby grunted in agreement, not looking up at him as he walked past and headed up the stairs to the guest room. Walking there felt like trying to run through toffee. His legs were heavy and body aching. It took an eternity to get to the room and when he did, he all but fell onto the old, musty mattress.
As his eyes fell closed, he soon realised that he had a headache, concentrating at the front of his temple. He should probably have drank some water, or took some aspirin or something considering the half bottle of whisky he’d drank. But the hour spent crying like a baby seemed to sober him up. But that was probably what had caused the headache.
Rolling over onto his side, he took a deep breath in, hoping that it would help alleviate some of the pain but it didn’t. He was probably stuck with it until he got his ass up out of bed and take something for it, but before he could, he felt the bed dip behind him.
“What do you want Cas?” he asked in a sigh.
“I heard you,” Castiel said quietly, “I thought… I thought you were going to say yes.”
Dean squeezed his eyes closed, certain that if he kept them open the tears would start again, “Would it matter?” he asked, “Michael would get rid of Lucifer and all this would be over.”
“Of course it matters,” Castiel said as he put a hand on Dean’s arm, pushing at him gently so that he was lying on his back.
“Why?” Dean asked, “I mean we don’t really have another option here.”
“Yes we do,” Castiel told him, “God will be found,” he assured him, “You just need a little bit of hope and He will come.”
“Hope?” Dean asked with a snort of laughter, “Sorry, but I’ve used up my hope quota for this year.”
“Dean you must have hope,” Castiel told him, leaning over him, “I need you to have hope Dean, I need you.”
As Castiel’s words sank in, Dean looked up into his eyes, seeing desperation and worry there, mixed in with hurt. He’d hurt Castiel. He hadn’t meant to but he just… reaching up, he gently cupped his face, “I never meant to hurt you Cas. I just don’t know if I can do this anymore. I keep losing everyone I care about, slowly but surely, they all disappear. It’s only a matter of time before Sam gives in to the blood and says yes, and I can’t lose him, I can’t.”
He was crying again, but he couldn’t stop it, not even when Castiel leaned down and placed the gentlest of kisses upon his lips.
“I’m not going anywhere Dean,” he said, “And I know I can’t replace your brother, but I’ll always be here for you.”
Dean cried harder at that, unable to hold it all back. But unlike outside amongst the cars, Castiel was there, holding him and letting him know that it was okay. That it would, in the end, be okay.
THE END