if there's a hell for lovers and that's where you're gonna be

[torndownsoldier]

[Locked to thenerdangel. Hell For Lovers verse. No Warnings Yet. Current canon.]

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[thenerdangel]

I came as soon as I could, Dean. As you are aware, I am in the middle of a war. It isn't easy to drop everything at a moment's notice and escape the confines of Heaven.

[Castiel marches down the aisle, the trench coat billowing at the bottom as the air breezes by. There was a time when the angel wasn't afraid to be more open with Dean, to even be affectionate, not that he was always aware he was being, still new to human emotions. But things are different now, he isn't the same naive angel he was, and he has to make decisions he isn't proud of, do things that make him hateful and angry, things that he never wants the human to know.

He grips Dean's arm, yanks him the rest of the way up and holds onto him until he's certain he won't collapse.] Where is Sam?

[torndownsoldier]

Oh, I'm sorry. Next time I'm doin' something on your brother's orders I'll make sure to make sure your schedule is clear first, huh?

[Despite the heavy sarcasm in Dean's voice, he almost smiles. There's generally something comforting about Castiel's presence even though he would never acknowledge it, and he lets the angel drag him up, lets him take Dean's weight for a minute before getting his footing.]

Sam ain't here, he's chasin' up leads on the mother. I figured I could handle this by myself.

[thenerdangel]

[Not in the mood to engage in an argument, he stops the sharp retort before it can leave, but looks at him pointedly, like he doesn't appreciate the tone, even though he is used to it and doesn't expect anything less.] Since when do you take orders from my brother?

[He drops his arms, but doesn't step out of the man's personal space.] You were clearly capable of taking matters into your own hands. [It's hard to make out the sarcasm, face as blank as ever.] Your injuries don't appear to be life threatening.

[torndownsoldier]

[Dean holds up something, an ornate gold key pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He's already frowning like the bits are all falling into piece.] He said you needed this. [Frowning.] You don't, do you? Sonova-. What's the dude's problem?

[Running a hand through his short hair and taken a step away.] Can it, Cas. I was tryin' to help.