Fic: Finale
Title: Finale
Characters: slight Dean/Cas, Sam, Bobby
Rating: PG
Spoilers: know about the Leviathan? you're good
Word Count: 650
Notes: unbeta-ed because I just wanted to get this out there and it was eating me alive.
Summary: It's done, this is it. Dean has one last thing to give to Castiel.
It worked. Their last ditch, hail mary, plan motherfucking Z, had actually worked. The Leviathans were gone and Cas was -please if I never ask for anything else just give me this- back to being alone in his own body.
The former angel, former god, former creature of destruction was on his knees, the suit the Big Bad Boss had put him in covered in blood -let it not be his please let him be ok- and black ooze. Dean dropped his gun and was on his knees beside his best friend, brother, angel -His- without a second thought.
“Cas?”
He heard Bobby and Sam shifting around behind him but it all came secondary to finding out if Cas was -pleasepleaseplease- alright. Uncaring of the sticky mess on Castiel’s coat Dean grabbed both shoulders and just held on. The body under his hands trembled.
“C’mon Cas, you gotta open those big doe eyes and let me know you’re still you in there.” Desperation was starting to bleed into his voice but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Didn’t care that Sam and Bobby were watching. Didn’t care that they were seeing him all but poor his heart out for this sad, broken -not dead- man. “Cas, please.”
Something in the air shifted and Cas drew in a rough, shaky, real breath. Blue eyes opened almost impossibly wide and locked onto Dean’s with an accuracy that should have frightened him.
“Dean.”
That was all the proof Dean needed. No one could sound like that -like they’d swallowed gravel and velvet at the same time- and not be Cas. “Jesus Cas, you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice.”
Castiel swayed into Dean’s hands, his face burying itself in the crook of Dean’s neck. “I-I think I might have an idea,” he murmured.
Dean slid one hand to cup the back of Castiel’s neck and the other wrapped around the man’s -breathing, alive, here- waist. He tucked Castiel’s head under his chin and held on tighter. For that moment nothing else mattered. For that moment it was just the two of them.
“Dean?”
Sam had moved around behind Castiel and Dean looked up at him now, knowing that his face would be an open book to his little brother and not caring a bit. Sam held out a bundle of tan fabric and Dean’s heart lurched in his chest. He swallowed thickly and Sam’s eyes told him that it was ok, I understand, they told him.
Dean nodded minutely and Sam unfurled the trench coat that they’d all been pretending didn’t exist for the last five months. It was clean now, almost obscenely so. Dean washed it every time he had the chance, trying to get the stench of blood and ichor out of it even though he was the only one that could still smell it.
Sam draped the coat over Castiel’s shoulders and the man tensed in Dean’s hold before he realized what was touching him.
Pale fingers clenched in the material and Dean felt the tremors in his own body.
Sam all but collapsed at Castiel’s side, simply resting his hand next to the man’s knee. Not touching, only offering comfort if it was wanted. Castiel surprised them both when he reached down with one hand and took Sam’s in what looked like a bone crushing grip, his knuckles going white around Sam’s fingers.
Dean buried his nose in Castiel’s hair and rubbed small, soothing circles into the man’s neck with his fingertips.
Bobby’s hand fell on his head and he tugged Castiel even closer.
Castiel’s small voice, DeanDeanDeanDean, over and over again made something in his chest ache. “We’ve got you Cas, you’re home. You’re okay.” They were insignificant words but he felt better for saying them.
Tears soaked into his jeans and they all clung tighter to each other.
“We’ve got you.”
Characters: slight Dean/Cas, Sam, Bobby
Rating: PG
Spoilers: know about the Leviathan? you're good
Word Count: 650
Notes: unbeta-ed because I just wanted to get this out there and it was eating me alive.
Summary: It's done, this is it. Dean has one last thing to give to Castiel.
It worked. Their last ditch, hail mary, plan motherfucking Z, had actually worked. The Leviathans were gone and Cas was -please if I never ask for anything else just give me this- back to being alone in his own body.
The former angel, former god, former creature of destruction was on his knees, the suit the Big Bad Boss had put him in covered in blood -let it not be his please let him be ok- and black ooze. Dean dropped his gun and was on his knees beside his best friend, brother, angel -His- without a second thought.
“Cas?”
He heard Bobby and Sam shifting around behind him but it all came secondary to finding out if Cas was -pleasepleaseplease- alright. Uncaring of the sticky mess on Castiel’s coat Dean grabbed both shoulders and just held on. The body under his hands trembled.
“C’mon Cas, you gotta open those big doe eyes and let me know you’re still you in there.” Desperation was starting to bleed into his voice but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Didn’t care that Sam and Bobby were watching. Didn’t care that they were seeing him all but poor his heart out for this sad, broken -not dead- man. “Cas, please.”
Something in the air shifted and Cas drew in a rough, shaky, real breath. Blue eyes opened almost impossibly wide and locked onto Dean’s with an accuracy that should have frightened him.
“Dean.”
That was all the proof Dean needed. No one could sound like that -like they’d swallowed gravel and velvet at the same time- and not be Cas. “Jesus Cas, you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice.”
Castiel swayed into Dean’s hands, his face burying itself in the crook of Dean’s neck. “I-I think I might have an idea,” he murmured.
Dean slid one hand to cup the back of Castiel’s neck and the other wrapped around the man’s -breathing, alive, here- waist. He tucked Castiel’s head under his chin and held on tighter. For that moment nothing else mattered. For that moment it was just the two of them.
“Dean?”
Sam had moved around behind Castiel and Dean looked up at him now, knowing that his face would be an open book to his little brother and not caring a bit. Sam held out a bundle of tan fabric and Dean’s heart lurched in his chest. He swallowed thickly and Sam’s eyes told him that it was ok, I understand, they told him.
Dean nodded minutely and Sam unfurled the trench coat that they’d all been pretending didn’t exist for the last five months. It was clean now, almost obscenely so. Dean washed it every time he had the chance, trying to get the stench of blood and ichor out of it even though he was the only one that could still smell it.
Sam draped the coat over Castiel’s shoulders and the man tensed in Dean’s hold before he realized what was touching him.
Pale fingers clenched in the material and Dean felt the tremors in his own body.
Sam all but collapsed at Castiel’s side, simply resting his hand next to the man’s knee. Not touching, only offering comfort if it was wanted. Castiel surprised them both when he reached down with one hand and took Sam’s in what looked like a bone crushing grip, his knuckles going white around Sam’s fingers.
Dean buried his nose in Castiel’s hair and rubbed small, soothing circles into the man’s neck with his fingertips.
Bobby’s hand fell on his head and he tugged Castiel even closer.
Castiel’s small voice, DeanDeanDeanDean, over and over again made something in his chest ache. “We’ve got you Cas, you’re home. You’re okay.” They were insignificant words but he felt better for saying them.
Tears soaked into his jeans and they all clung tighter to each other.
“We’ve got you.”