The Intimacy Meme
The Intimacy Meme
(Shamelessly taken from... all the rest's and modified!)
Intimacy is the glue of any relationship, albeit romantic or friendship. It's getting to the root of humanity, and expanding upon ourselves and letting others in.
Rules:
1. Post with your character.
2. Go to rng and roll from 1-6.
3. Post to others.
4. Profit
Scenes:
1. First Kiss. ( Read more... )
(Shamelessly taken from... all the rest's and modified!)
Intimacy is the glue of any relationship, albeit romantic or friendship. It's getting to the root of humanity, and expanding upon ourselves and letting others in.
Rules:
1. Post with your character.
2. Go to rng and roll from 1-6.
3. Post to others.
4. Profit
Scenes:
1. First Kiss. ( Read more... )
[Sleep has been just one of a long list of things Castiel has been having trouble getting used to since going mortal. The idea of just... Lying in bed with one's eyes closed and eventually slipping into unconsciousness is.. unsettling, to put it mildly. It's taking some getting used to, and some nights he's able to manage it without much effort, just slides into the bed Bobby and the Winchesters had set up for him at the end of the house and stops for a while ( ... )
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Clumsily, he accepts the smaller gun and the rag, tests the weight of it in his hand. It feels foreign, heavy and almost uncomfortable, and he gets the feeling it's going to be a good long while until he's proficient enough to be even half as useful as he was before he'd fallen. The thought has his eyebrows pulling together, and he shoves it away by focusing on the coolness of the metal in his hand. He releases the magazine like Dean'd shown him, but stops before checking the chamber as he feels Dean's eyes on him briefly before he looks away.
Sam's gonna die... And Castiel is compelled to offer some comfort, strangely enough, but... He drops the gun on the bed next to the one Dean'd been working on.] It's ( ... )
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Yeah, thanks for that. You're supposed to lie, Cas. Say everything's going to be okay, even if it's not. Hell, especially if it's not. It's called being comforting.
[He shook his head and too up the gun again. pieces of it, anyway. Began to polish them one by one methodically with the rag. A second of silence, and he chuckled to himself incredulously.]
So much shit about humanity you could'a learned, and I taught you the shit that makes life crappy. Lying, running, cleaning guns, dying? You really picked the bad apple, man. Shoulda latched n to Sam, he's the one that can do all that understanding... friendly... apple pie emotional crap.
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[Castiel can't shake the feeling that he has more to learn than he could ever hope to grasp. His eyes flicker over to Dean and he watches him work at the pieces, assessing the way his hands move before picking up the smaller gun and taking it apart the way Dean'd shown him. It feels awkward and takes him a few jerky attempts, but he gets it eventually, picks up the rag and runs it over the cool metal. He notes the scent, once the pieces are separated, and it's pleasant, familiar... It takes him a few seconds to recognize why-- it smells like Dean.
Interesting. He wonders if he'll smell like that too, if they survive.
He glances over at Dean when he speaks, frowning.]
It wasn't a choice. But if it was, I'd be satisfied with it. [He looks down at the piece in his hand.] I'm not friendly.
[It's added like an afterthought, and the self-deprecating tone ( ... )
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[From the corner of his eye, he watches Cas fumble with the pieces. He's new, awkward at it and still learning, but for the most part, he's doing it right. It took Dean a few attempts to get it when he first learned, so even though Cas is obviously a rookie, he's still impressive nonetheless.
It's nice. This is something he understands. Gun oil and work. If they live long enough, he's sure Cas'll get used to it. He's- well, technically speaking, he's seen the end result, but he's seriously hoping it's a little different this time around ( ... )
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[Castiel thinks he could probably get used to doing this, to the strange weight of a gun in his hands. He supposes he could even become proficient in its use, though nowhere near as deadly as he would have been with his grace. He's trying not to think of it in those terms- if he can learn how to defend himself, that should be enough...
Knowing himself, though, he's reasonably certain it won't be.
He's still working on his first gun when Dean picks up his next- he's trying to be thorough. If this is truly his last night existing at all, he'd like to spend it doing something properly, as if that will make his final judgment any less harsh.
He bristles slightly.]
You left me few other options. It was the only way to get you to cooperate. [A beat, and a soft sigh.] Not that it had the intended effect at all.
[It's more fond than anything else. Dean wouldn't be Dean without that stubbornness.]
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Dean's not worried about Cas's usefulness. For starters, they're probably going to fucking die anyway, so it's not going to be an issue. That possibility aside, though, Cas is smart. He's quick to pick up on things, he's clever, tactical. The son of a bitch is downright sneaky, when he wants to be. Even if he can't rush up and smite the crap out of a demon, even if he's not made of marble like Edward Cullen, he's still damn useful to have on Dean's team.
That's not what makes him useful, though. Dean needs someone to keep him sane. Dean needs someone to stick around. Dean just needs someone period. He doesn't do alone, especially without Sam.
Dean really just... needs a friend. He's pretty sure Cas would agree to the sentiment. Not that he's ever going to ( ... )
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Hell was going to suck. He'd almost prefer to just... stop existing. There wasn't even the consolation of being close to Sam, because that's just not how it worked in Hell. He might as well be on another goddamn planet. Maybe this time, he wouldn't break? Not like he's gonna have Cas to pull his ass out of the fire again.
He cleaned out the barrel of the shotgun, then jerked it closed with a snap and set it to the side. Let out a breath and leaned back against the headboard.]You ( ... )
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He would hope, after all this, that his Father would grant Dean a pardon, veto any complaint made by Michael or Raphael or any of the other angels. Even after what'd happened with Joshua, he's still trying to cling to a shred of belief that he loves this planet, loves his creations enough to reward Dean for doing his best to protect them. He knows how Dean feels about Heaven, about how it's a lie, but... That hadn't been his experience, and he hopes that if that is where Dean ends up he's happy there.
Dean finishes cleaning out the barrel of the gun, leans back against the headboard and Castiel follows suit, though his movements are a bit more controlled, stiff.
Is he afraid? He doesn't know. As an angel it'd been one of those emotions he'd never quite managed to grasp; angels had no fear, weren't wired to feel such a thing. He hadn't been afraid when he'd been asked to retrieve Dean's soul from hell, or before he'd faced Raphael in Chuck Shurley's kitchen, or when ( ... )
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Especially with Sam in the Pit and Cas being... wherever the hell Cas ends up.
Dean doesn't want to be alone. Now that he knows heaven is a sham, that he's going to be spending eternity with the equivalent of projections or robots, he's not really all that awed by it anymore. He doesn't do alone for any significant stretch of time- eternity's pretty damn significant.
Then again, not existing is pretty lonely too, isn't it?
Is he scared? He stares at the bedspread.]
Yeah. Terrified.
[He turns his head, glances over, face expressionless.]
If you do make it up there- get admitted into the country club- look me up. Pretty sure my agenda'll be clear.
[It's a good ( ... )
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[He has the good sense not to say anything more than that- he doubts Dean wants to talk about it any further than that. He's sure he doesn't.
Look me up. He turns and offers Dean the faintest of smiles.]
Of course. It'll be my first stop.
[See? He's learning. Comforting. It's comforting to him too, if he's honest, to imagine that maybe if the worst happens there's some kind of silver lining... Even if it is a bit dulled by the fact that Sam--
He mentally shakes his head, not wanting to go down that road right this second; he's already exhausted enough. His eyes close for just a bit longer than a blink should be before they snap open again; he'll need to sleep soon...
He isn't sure he's ready to do that, though his body seems to be pretty set on the idea.]
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He returns the smile for a second, faintly. Just a twitch of his lips a cock of his head. A second passes, and he breaks it to start piling the guns back into the bag.
Moment's over. That's enough touchie feelie crap for the night. It gets a pass because it's pre-apocalyptic suckfest, but that doesn't make it any less uncomfortable.]
Awesome. Now, get the hell outta here before you fall asleep in my bed. Just because we had a moment doesn't mean we're gonna do the last Night on Earth vertical tango.
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Dean returns the smile, and Castiel's body relaxes, just a tiny bit, because he'd truly thought that confessing what he'd done would be the nail in the coffin of their friendship... It doesn't last long, only long enough to reassure him that he hasn't quite lost everything just yet.
He passes Dean the lone gun he'd cleaned and rubs at his eyes.... And then cocks his head. He's pretty sure he gets what Dean's saying, and no, that obviously wasn't his intention coming in here.]
Yes. Sleeping would be wise if we expect even a small chance at succeeding tomorrow.
[He swings his legs over the side of the bed and pushes himself off, heading for the door. Stops at the frame, but doesn't turn around.]
Thank you, Dean. Good night.
[He makes his ( ... )
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