Faith In The Shape Of A Tear - Dean,Castiel - PG - [1/1]
Title: Faith In The Shape Of A Tear-1/1 - Complete
Author: force-oblique
Rating: Gen, PG
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! :P
Characters/Pairings: Dean,Castiel
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Word Count: 1690
Summary:Castiel made a gesture pointing to the gun.“You wanna pull the trigger, Dean? End yourself? End everything? Well you are wrong, because nothing will end as fast as you think. It will be the beginning of the end. But it will be the beginning of a long, excruciating end!”
Author's Notes:This story is very special to me. For some reason it made me very emotional while I was writing it, so I hope you like it.
- English is not my native language so excuse any crappiness and/or mistakes!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO DEAN WINCHESTER!!!!
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to:
CRYSTALCHAIN: BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU WERE IN NEED OF A DEAN/CASTIEL FIC AND nothing makes me happier than putting a smile on my friends' face!! <333
FAITH IN THE SHAPE OF A TEAR
The gun looked shiny in his hands. Absentmindedly, he caressed its curves. Such a little thing, smaller than his arm but it could end a man’s life.
And the bullets, tiny yet final. One could rip through your heart and be the death of you.
Dean Winchester was sitting on the stairs of the second floor of the lousy motel they had picked to stay in this time. Sam was sleeping in the room two doors down the hall to his left.
It had all gone smoothly considering…
More so, because Sam for one more time had used his “mojo” on the demon they had come across.
Dean knew there was no other way, not really.
He couldn’t himself recite Latin and his gun wouldn’t work on the demon.
The demon had easily sent him flying across the room of the person he possessed.
Everything Dean had used was pointless, so how was he supposed to tell Sam not to use his power.
If nothing human could exorcise the demon, if they were to be killed so easily otherwise, wasn’t Sam’s psychic power the best solution?
Wasn’t Sam going borderline human again the only way?
So Sam saved his life, he saved both of their lives and it left Dean wondering about the meaning of it all...
He felt useless. He was useless. He was a burden on his brother.
Sam could take care of himself much better when he didn’t have to look out for him. And he could take care of the demon himself, too.
Dean grasped the gun with both hands and cradled it closer to his chest, where his traitorous heart beat.
Then, suddenly, a figure he knew all too well by now appeared.
Dean shifted on the stairs but didn’t flinch.
“Castiel” he mouthed.
The angel walked a little closer. Could that be concern in his eyes?
“What are you doing, Dean?" He asked tilting his head to the left when Dean lowered his head.
“Leave me alone! I am not in the mood” he murmured.
“No? What mood are you in? To Kill yourself?” the angel probed, anger seething steadily underneath his borrowed tongue.
“I can do anything I want. Free will, remember?” Dean quipped raising his eyes, eyes brimming with tears, to meet Castiel’s defiantly.
“Right. Not all of us have that luxury to indulge ourselves” Castiel replied skeptically, his eyes not moving an inch from Dean’s.
He jumped at his words. “Indulge myself? You think I am indulging myself? No, Castiel, when I was down under torturing, that was indulging myself.
That was me being the worst that I could be”.
The angel walked closer to him, till their legs almost touched before scoffing.
“Really? You think that that was the worst that you could be? You are wrong. This, now… This is the worst you can be!”
He made a gesture pointing to the gun. “You wanna pull the trigger Dean? End yourself? End everything? Well you are wrong, because nothing will end as fast as you think. It will be the beginning of the end. But it will be the beginning of a long, excruciating end!”
Dean fixed his stare on the ground, focusing on something neither of them could see.
“Yeah, well… Maybe it’s better that way”.
“Better for whom?” Castiel asked as he sat down next to him, keeping his eyes fixed somewhere on the ceiling. Did he not want to acknowledge Dean’s doubts or was he afraid to do so?
“Everyone knows what I did. You, Sam… everyone I care about and if they don’t know they suspect" he started his voice cracking.
“I was just like everyone else, wasn’t I? And then I went to hell and became the worst of the worst. I became a monster, don’t you understand? Don’t you get it?”
“You need to let it go, Dean. Now, there’s no time for this” Castiel replied softly, his voice a soothing ointment to an open wound.
“Let it go? How? How can I ever let it go when the face of everyone I ever hurt- and they are so many, too many to remember names or even faces- comes back to hunt me at night? The screams and the burned flesh and the pleadings…"
He paused with effort trying to catch his breath among his sobs. “They were begging me to stop, Castiel and I didn’t even falter. I didn’t think twice…I kept maiming…”
“Like I said, you need to let it go!”
“Right” Dean sighed.
“And how exactly did I redeem myself? How exactly am I redeeming myself? Because nothing has changed. They are still in hell and someone else just took my place tearing them apart and I am out here.
I am right here doing the exact same thing I was doing before, like nothing has changed. I hunt and I try to save the innocents, although I am not one of them anymore, am I Castiel?”
“I saw the darkness too, Dean. It’s what I see everyday. It’s what I have been seeing for eons. It’s what I’ve been fighting against. So yes, I see the darkness. And I saw yours, too. The blackness surrounding you. It was there, real. But I also saw the light. And I see it every day, too. There’s light everywhere, too, Dean. That’s how we know what dark is. The absence of light. The opposite of light."
Castiel wasn’t sure if his words were starting to affect Dean, but he could sense something in his essence change. He was stiff and now his posture looked more receptive.
“And I saw YOUR light, Dean” he started again. “And it was bright, oh so bright, Dean! You may not believe it, but the light inside of you is not a flicker, it’s a torch. It was a torch even in hell, your light. And that was the light I rescued. That was the light God commanded to be saved”.
“Yeah, some light. Totally worth the rescue” the man exclaimed bitterly.
“Have a little faith, Dean. Have a little faith in yourself, but if you can’t, then have a little faith In God and his judgment”
It was not surprising that these words were coming out of the mouth of an angel, but Dean found himself shaken because he knew Castiel had his doubts too.
“Faith in God? I think you are missing something! God allowed my mother to die by a demon, He let my father go to hell, even though both were the best people one could ever meet”
Castiel opened his mouth as if to say something but Dean cut him.
“He took my brother away from me though it wasn’t my brother’s fault that he had demon blood in him and He set this whole thing in motion! So faith, Castiel? Seriously?”
“That wasn’t God, Dean. That was Azazeal” the angel reminded him.
“What’s the difference?”
“Don’t blaspheme” Castiel warned him.
Dean stood up abruptly, the air hotter than it could let him breathe.
“Blaspheme? Haven't you heard? I was in hell, I am well past blasphemy!!
"I am useless. Can’t you see? I can’t do anything right. Did you see us in there, Sam and me? We barely put up a fight. We couldn’t even put that lowlife demon down, unless Sam used his power.
This is what we are, Castiel… Humans, weak, broken, flawed.
And you expect us to rise. Rise against evil?”
“I expect you to believe!” the angel answered firmly.
“Believe? Believe in what? You saved me from perdition, Castiel, telling me I was some sort of champion, that I was special?” Dean protested.
“But tonight we were up against a lousy demon and I was thrown against the wall in five seconds flat”
And turning around himself, he added mockingly: “BEWARE YOUR CHAMPION”.
“Sit DOWN, Dean” the angel urged him.
“So tell me. Am I mighty? What’s my strength? If I’m a champion, a hero, where’s my power? What’s my power?” he demanded.
“You still don’t know, do you?” Castiel said raising his head to look at the human before him, the human so filled with grief and regret and pain.
“Know what?”
“Your power. There are a lot of kinds of power, Dean. You wanna know what’s yours?”
“Yes please!!” Dean sarcastically said sitting down.
"Hope" the angel started and ignored Dean rolling his eyes. “Yes, hope. Even through your worst in hell you still believed, didn’t you? The light only stays alive in the presence of faith. So you had faith.”
“Have you been listening to me? I tortured people! In Hell, I TORTURED PEOPLE”
“Yes, you caved, but you still held hope. And even now, Dean, when you are next to your brother, next to other people, knowing what’s coming and that you may not win this battle, this war, you still hope! But more than that…
Don’t you realize that you give other people hope, too? You instill it into their hearts. Into me!” the angel admitted.
“This is why I respect you. Because you keep fighting even when you think it ain’t worth it or that it is pointless. Even when salvation and victory are nowhere to be seen. Even when the seals keep being broken, bringing us closer to the Apocalypse”.
“And I give them hope?” Dean asked incredulously.
“Yes! Don’t you see it in their eyes? The people you save? They believe because of you”
“But, I don’t save everyone” he replied, his mind refusing to accept that there could be power in what he was doing. Refusing to believe in his redeeming grace. Mercy.
“Not everyone can be saved Dean or should” was the angel’s cryptic reply. “You are different. Now, give me the gun” he ordered, standing up.
In a second, Dean was on his feet too, holding the gun, hesitant as to hand it over to him.
“Give me the gun” he ordered again and this time Dean complied.
For a long good moment they stared at each other, till Castiel pulled him into an embrace, Dean’s chin on his shoulder, hot tears wetting Castiel’s shirt, liquid testament to his remorse.
Without words, without even breathing they held each other, till Dean heard Castiel whisper to his ear “I believe in you”.
And then, he was gone.
~ Fin ~
If you liked this, other SPN fiction Here
Comments are love...and keep the muse alive.
Author: force-oblique
Rating: Gen, PG
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! :P
Characters/Pairings: Dean,Castiel
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Word Count: 1690
Summary:Castiel made a gesture pointing to the gun.“You wanna pull the trigger, Dean? End yourself? End everything? Well you are wrong, because nothing will end as fast as you think. It will be the beginning of the end. But it will be the beginning of a long, excruciating end!”
Author's Notes:This story is very special to me. For some reason it made me very emotional while I was writing it, so I hope you like it.
- English is not my native language so excuse any crappiness and/or mistakes!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO DEAN WINCHESTER!!!!
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to:
CRYSTALCHAIN: BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU WERE IN NEED OF A DEAN/CASTIEL FIC AND nothing makes me happier than putting a smile on my friends' face!! <333
FAITH IN THE SHAPE OF A TEAR
The gun looked shiny in his hands. Absentmindedly, he caressed its curves. Such a little thing, smaller than his arm but it could end a man’s life.
And the bullets, tiny yet final. One could rip through your heart and be the death of you.
Dean Winchester was sitting on the stairs of the second floor of the lousy motel they had picked to stay in this time. Sam was sleeping in the room two doors down the hall to his left.
It had all gone smoothly considering…
More so, because Sam for one more time had used his “mojo” on the demon they had come across.
Dean knew there was no other way, not really.
He couldn’t himself recite Latin and his gun wouldn’t work on the demon.
The demon had easily sent him flying across the room of the person he possessed.
Everything Dean had used was pointless, so how was he supposed to tell Sam not to use his power.
If nothing human could exorcise the demon, if they were to be killed so easily otherwise, wasn’t Sam’s psychic power the best solution?
Wasn’t Sam going borderline human again the only way?
So Sam saved his life, he saved both of their lives and it left Dean wondering about the meaning of it all...
He felt useless. He was useless. He was a burden on his brother.
Sam could take care of himself much better when he didn’t have to look out for him. And he could take care of the demon himself, too.
Dean grasped the gun with both hands and cradled it closer to his chest, where his traitorous heart beat.
Then, suddenly, a figure he knew all too well by now appeared.
Dean shifted on the stairs but didn’t flinch.
“Castiel” he mouthed.
The angel walked a little closer. Could that be concern in his eyes?
“What are you doing, Dean?" He asked tilting his head to the left when Dean lowered his head.
“Leave me alone! I am not in the mood” he murmured.
“No? What mood are you in? To Kill yourself?” the angel probed, anger seething steadily underneath his borrowed tongue.
“I can do anything I want. Free will, remember?” Dean quipped raising his eyes, eyes brimming with tears, to meet Castiel’s defiantly.
“Right. Not all of us have that luxury to indulge ourselves” Castiel replied skeptically, his eyes not moving an inch from Dean’s.
He jumped at his words. “Indulge myself? You think I am indulging myself? No, Castiel, when I was down under torturing, that was indulging myself.
That was me being the worst that I could be”.
The angel walked closer to him, till their legs almost touched before scoffing.
“Really? You think that that was the worst that you could be? You are wrong. This, now… This is the worst you can be!”
He made a gesture pointing to the gun. “You wanna pull the trigger Dean? End yourself? End everything? Well you are wrong, because nothing will end as fast as you think. It will be the beginning of the end. But it will be the beginning of a long, excruciating end!”
Dean fixed his stare on the ground, focusing on something neither of them could see.
“Yeah, well… Maybe it’s better that way”.
“Better for whom?” Castiel asked as he sat down next to him, keeping his eyes fixed somewhere on the ceiling. Did he not want to acknowledge Dean’s doubts or was he afraid to do so?
“Everyone knows what I did. You, Sam… everyone I care about and if they don’t know they suspect" he started his voice cracking.
“I was just like everyone else, wasn’t I? And then I went to hell and became the worst of the worst. I became a monster, don’t you understand? Don’t you get it?”
“You need to let it go, Dean. Now, there’s no time for this” Castiel replied softly, his voice a soothing ointment to an open wound.
“Let it go? How? How can I ever let it go when the face of everyone I ever hurt- and they are so many, too many to remember names or even faces- comes back to hunt me at night? The screams and the burned flesh and the pleadings…"
He paused with effort trying to catch his breath among his sobs. “They were begging me to stop, Castiel and I didn’t even falter. I didn’t think twice…I kept maiming…”
“Like I said, you need to let it go!”
“Right” Dean sighed.
“And how exactly did I redeem myself? How exactly am I redeeming myself? Because nothing has changed. They are still in hell and someone else just took my place tearing them apart and I am out here.
I am right here doing the exact same thing I was doing before, like nothing has changed. I hunt and I try to save the innocents, although I am not one of them anymore, am I Castiel?”
“I saw the darkness too, Dean. It’s what I see everyday. It’s what I have been seeing for eons. It’s what I’ve been fighting against. So yes, I see the darkness. And I saw yours, too. The blackness surrounding you. It was there, real. But I also saw the light. And I see it every day, too. There’s light everywhere, too, Dean. That’s how we know what dark is. The absence of light. The opposite of light."
Castiel wasn’t sure if his words were starting to affect Dean, but he could sense something in his essence change. He was stiff and now his posture looked more receptive.
“And I saw YOUR light, Dean” he started again. “And it was bright, oh so bright, Dean! You may not believe it, but the light inside of you is not a flicker, it’s a torch. It was a torch even in hell, your light. And that was the light I rescued. That was the light God commanded to be saved”.
“Yeah, some light. Totally worth the rescue” the man exclaimed bitterly.
“Have a little faith, Dean. Have a little faith in yourself, but if you can’t, then have a little faith In God and his judgment”
It was not surprising that these words were coming out of the mouth of an angel, but Dean found himself shaken because he knew Castiel had his doubts too.
“Faith in God? I think you are missing something! God allowed my mother to die by a demon, He let my father go to hell, even though both were the best people one could ever meet”
Castiel opened his mouth as if to say something but Dean cut him.
“He took my brother away from me though it wasn’t my brother’s fault that he had demon blood in him and He set this whole thing in motion! So faith, Castiel? Seriously?”
“That wasn’t God, Dean. That was Azazeal” the angel reminded him.
“What’s the difference?”
“Don’t blaspheme” Castiel warned him.
Dean stood up abruptly, the air hotter than it could let him breathe.
“Blaspheme? Haven't you heard? I was in hell, I am well past blasphemy!!
"I am useless. Can’t you see? I can’t do anything right. Did you see us in there, Sam and me? We barely put up a fight. We couldn’t even put that lowlife demon down, unless Sam used his power.
This is what we are, Castiel… Humans, weak, broken, flawed.
And you expect us to rise. Rise against evil?”
“I expect you to believe!” the angel answered firmly.
“Believe? Believe in what? You saved me from perdition, Castiel, telling me I was some sort of champion, that I was special?” Dean protested.
“But tonight we were up against a lousy demon and I was thrown against the wall in five seconds flat”
And turning around himself, he added mockingly: “BEWARE YOUR CHAMPION”.
“Sit DOWN, Dean” the angel urged him.
“So tell me. Am I mighty? What’s my strength? If I’m a champion, a hero, where’s my power? What’s my power?” he demanded.
“You still don’t know, do you?” Castiel said raising his head to look at the human before him, the human so filled with grief and regret and pain.
“Know what?”
“Your power. There are a lot of kinds of power, Dean. You wanna know what’s yours?”
“Yes please!!” Dean sarcastically said sitting down.
"Hope" the angel started and ignored Dean rolling his eyes. “Yes, hope. Even through your worst in hell you still believed, didn’t you? The light only stays alive in the presence of faith. So you had faith.”
“Have you been listening to me? I tortured people! In Hell, I TORTURED PEOPLE”
“Yes, you caved, but you still held hope. And even now, Dean, when you are next to your brother, next to other people, knowing what’s coming and that you may not win this battle, this war, you still hope! But more than that…
Don’t you realize that you give other people hope, too? You instill it into their hearts. Into me!” the angel admitted.
“This is why I respect you. Because you keep fighting even when you think it ain’t worth it or that it is pointless. Even when salvation and victory are nowhere to be seen. Even when the seals keep being broken, bringing us closer to the Apocalypse”.
“And I give them hope?” Dean asked incredulously.
“Yes! Don’t you see it in their eyes? The people you save? They believe because of you”
“But, I don’t save everyone” he replied, his mind refusing to accept that there could be power in what he was doing. Refusing to believe in his redeeming grace. Mercy.
“Not everyone can be saved Dean or should” was the angel’s cryptic reply. “You are different. Now, give me the gun” he ordered, standing up.
In a second, Dean was on his feet too, holding the gun, hesitant as to hand it over to him.
“Give me the gun” he ordered again and this time Dean complied.
For a long good moment they stared at each other, till Castiel pulled him into an embrace, Dean’s chin on his shoulder, hot tears wetting Castiel’s shirt, liquid testament to his remorse.
Without words, without even breathing they held each other, till Dean heard Castiel whisper to his ear “I believe in you”.
And then, he was gone.
~ Fin ~
If you liked this, other SPN fiction Here
Comments are love...and keep the muse alive.