SPN Fic: Takes One To Know (Meg/Castiel; PG)
Title: Takes One To Know
Author: agirlnamedtruth
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Onesided Meg/Castiel
Claim: Meg/Castiel
Theme: #01: Elemental
Prompt(s): #13: Dream
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not my sandbox.
Summary: Meg wonders if Castiel dreams.
Warnings/Author Notes: Set during 7x21.
Sometimes she’d look over him, sleeping there, as human as anything and wonder if the Angel inside was still ticking over. She’d wonder what his mind did for all those hours. Did he know where he was? Did he know that she was there, not even a foot away from him? Did he dream?
She held onto that last one. Did he dream? Sometimes his face would move, just the tiniest movement, nearly forming a smile or a frown. What would he dream about? Surely not fluffy clouds and harps after what he’d been through. Maybe he had nightmares about what he’d done. Maybe he dreamt of the days when he’d been a good little soldier, unquestioning in an army of hundreds that did not question. Or maybe the days when he’d fought beside Dean, fighting for free will. Maybe he dreamed of her. Maybe he didn’t dream at all.
Meg shrugged, going back to her magazine, it wasn’t like she cared. Or at least, that’s what she told herself.
Author: agirlnamedtruth
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Onesided Meg/Castiel
Claim: Meg/Castiel
Theme: #01: Elemental
Prompt(s): #13: Dream
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not my sandbox.
Summary: Meg wonders if Castiel dreams.
Warnings/Author Notes: Set during 7x21.
Sometimes she’d look over him, sleeping there, as human as anything and wonder if the Angel inside was still ticking over. She’d wonder what his mind did for all those hours. Did he know where he was? Did he know that she was there, not even a foot away from him? Did he dream?
She held onto that last one. Did he dream? Sometimes his face would move, just the tiniest movement, nearly forming a smile or a frown. What would he dream about? Surely not fluffy clouds and harps after what he’d been through. Maybe he had nightmares about what he’d done. Maybe he dreamt of the days when he’d been a good little soldier, unquestioning in an army of hundreds that did not question. Or maybe the days when he’d fought beside Dean, fighting for free will. Maybe he dreamed of her. Maybe he didn’t dream at all.
Meg shrugged, going back to her magazine, it wasn’t like she cared. Or at least, that’s what she told herself.