WAFF-a-thon 2012 - Main Thread!

[tiptoe39]

And if we all could spread a little sunshine
All could lend a helping hand
We all would be a little closer
To the Promised Land

WAFFathon 2012 Official Thread
Welcome, everyone, to the fourth official WAFFathon, making the Internet a little happier. The premise behind the WAFFathon is simple: Fandom is great, but let's face it, it can get pretty

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Re: Supernatural, Dean/Cas PART 1

[angel_kink]

Dean jerked awake from another Hell related nightmare gasping for air and clutching at his chest. The dreams were coming less frequent now, but they were still jarring and physically painful. He’d wake up in a sweat with his heart pounding and his breath ragged like he’d just run a marathon. It would take a moment for the dream itself to flood back to it and when it did it took all of Dean’s willpower to stop himself from throwing up. This time was no different. The dream, well, a memory, really, of the first time he picked up the knife…

“Dean.” The hunter jumped at the sound of Cas’ voice.

“Christ!” he shouted as he clutched onto his chest. His heart rate was even higher than it was after waking up from the nightmare and he was sure it was going to just explode at some point in the near future. He took a moment to compose himself trying his best to will his breathing back to a normal rhythm. He looked around the room to try and figure out what time it was. No Sam. Sunlight in the windows. No sound in the bathroom. He must be getting breakfast or coffee or something or maybe Dean had slept in way too late or…

“He’s at the diner down the road. It’s nearly 9:00am.”

“What’d I tell you about poking around in my head, Cas?” When Dean felt that his heart rate was down at a somewhat normal rate he shifted so that his back was against the headboard. There was no way he was going to get back to sleep now so he might as well make himself comfortable.

“How else am I to understand you if you won’t verbalize your concerns to me?”

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. “Don’t know why you want to understand me so bad anyway...”

“You’re my charge,” Castiel said as if it explained everything.

“I’m your assignment,” Dean snapped.

“You’re more than that, Dean,” Cas said as he tilted his head, obviously confused by Dean’s reaction. “Why do you think so little of yourself?”

Dean just shook his head. Cas was insistent. He had to give him that. Sometimes it really seemed like Cas cared. He asked questions, showed concern, just generally seemed interested in all things Dean Winchester. But he had to remember that he was just an assignment. He was the ‘righteous man’- whatever the fuck that meant- whose damaged and battered soul was pulled from the pit. It couldn’t have been a job that anyone would have volunteered for. Who’d want to touch a soul so damaged-

“Dean...” Castiel had somehow scooted closer to him on the edge of the bed. Dean had been so lost in his own thought he hadn’t really noticed. “Your soul isn’t damaged.”

“Dammit, Cas. Stop it with the mind reading.”

Before Dean could say another word Cas’ hand was on his chest. The touch was light, fingers just barely pressing against the fabric of his shirt, but the intensity in his eyes as he looked at where his fingers were touching was overpowering. Once again Dean’s heart rate spiked, but this time it wasn’t out of fear. He wasn’t sure what Castiel was doing, but he trusted him. Even stranger, he found himself enjoying the closeness. He wasn’t quite sure why, though.

“I can see it…”

“What… see what?”

“Your soul.” Castiel spread his fingers across Dean’s chest slightly. “It’s bright. It’s intensity is almost blinding. Holding your soul within my grace was the most profound experience in my entire existence…” When Castiel met Dean’s eyes he pulled his hand back slightly and looked slightly embarrassed. “I’m sorry… forgive me…”