Fic: Shadowed Figures in the Black (Dean/Castiel, Sam)
Title: Shadowed Figures in the Black
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean/Castiel, Sam
Prompt: #001 Dark
Word Count: 402
Rating: G
Summary: He squinted into the darkness, thinking there was a figure standing there. Waiting for him. But nothing.
Notes: Written for spn_30snapshots (not officially claimed). 29/5/11.
He squinted into the darkness, thinking there was a figure standing there. Waiting for him. But nothing. Castiel made no appearance and the hissing of the angel's name didn't bring him out of the shadows. Figment of his imagination, Dean figured. It was probably just that.
Pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb, he stayed on the spot, feet planted in the ground, unmoving, and waited a little longer. His eyes refused to leave the spot where he had thought he saw Castiel. Stuck. He should shake his head or something and walk away. But something held him back.
An urge. A feeling. It was like a part of him was compelled to wait in the black for whatever might or might not be waiting for him. Something could very well be there, he knew. Something could be staring at him from the utter dark. Staring right back at him, like he stared unseeingly at it.
Could be. Or maybe he's just being a jerk face and a douche. Probably the case, if he’s honest with himself. If Sammie knew he was out here, he’d slap him over the head and tell him to come inside. He would say the smart thing and tell Dean that it wasn’t safe to lurk out in the night. There could be anything out there.
Anything was not what Dean was waiting for though. It was a much more specific someone he wanted to see appear. A certain angel. A stranger turned friend. The days that had passed without Castiel were growing more and more.
And Dean loathed admitting it even to himself that he was worried. He swallowed, hard, when something more appeared to move in the darkness. It was almost invisible, black against black, charcoal against ashes. Barely something, but definitely not nothing.
He waited. A tiny dog, a terrier, with shaggy hair and a big floppy tongue, raced out of the shadows, past him, brushing his leg and making him curse and step backward. “Damn dog.”
With the touch of the dog’s mangy hair to his leg, the spell was broken and he came to his senses. He turned from the space he had been sure Castiel was and slowly walked back to his and Sam’s hotel room.
Before he closed the door behind him he gave a last look out, and wondered if his angel was safe.
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean/Castiel, Sam
Prompt: #001 Dark
Word Count: 402
Rating: G
Summary: He squinted into the darkness, thinking there was a figure standing there. Waiting for him. But nothing.
Notes: Written for spn_30snapshots (not officially claimed). 29/5/11.
He squinted into the darkness, thinking there was a figure standing there. Waiting for him. But nothing. Castiel made no appearance and the hissing of the angel's name didn't bring him out of the shadows. Figment of his imagination, Dean figured. It was probably just that.
Pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb, he stayed on the spot, feet planted in the ground, unmoving, and waited a little longer. His eyes refused to leave the spot where he had thought he saw Castiel. Stuck. He should shake his head or something and walk away. But something held him back.
An urge. A feeling. It was like a part of him was compelled to wait in the black for whatever might or might not be waiting for him. Something could very well be there, he knew. Something could be staring at him from the utter dark. Staring right back at him, like he stared unseeingly at it.
Could be. Or maybe he's just being a jerk face and a douche. Probably the case, if he’s honest with himself. If Sammie knew he was out here, he’d slap him over the head and tell him to come inside. He would say the smart thing and tell Dean that it wasn’t safe to lurk out in the night. There could be anything out there.
Anything was not what Dean was waiting for though. It was a much more specific someone he wanted to see appear. A certain angel. A stranger turned friend. The days that had passed without Castiel were growing more and more.
And Dean loathed admitting it even to himself that he was worried. He swallowed, hard, when something more appeared to move in the darkness. It was almost invisible, black against black, charcoal against ashes. Barely something, but definitely not nothing.
He waited. A tiny dog, a terrier, with shaggy hair and a big floppy tongue, raced out of the shadows, past him, brushing his leg and making him curse and step backward. “Damn dog.”
With the touch of the dog’s mangy hair to his leg, the spell was broken and he came to his senses. He turned from the space he had been sure Castiel was and slowly walked back to his and Sam’s hotel room.
Before he closed the door behind him he gave a last look out, and wondered if his angel was safe.