Author: Aima D. Duragon
Rating: PG-13 for language and innuendo
Spoilers: up to episode 5.5 (though I tried to keep everything vague)
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by the CW.
A/N: So to all the reviewers: YOU TOTALLY ROCK! And I'd like to send a special thanks out to A Heart on my Hand , quiero queso , Nyah86 , Nath2704 , Lumiere88, and Taya for reviewing both parts and for being so encouraging along the way (If I missed anyone I'm sorry! But trust me you're greatly appreciated). You guys are way too nice!
In case you didn't know already, this is the third and final part to Touched and to be honest is was by far the hardest to write. But I guess that's what happens when you never plan your stories out before you write them lol. Of course my heavy homework load probably didn't help much either. Soooo some people may not be exactly happy with the way this fic ends...enjoy!
"Cas?" Dean's heart was pounding wildly. He cleared his throat, twice, "Yeah, um…Sam said you called this morning."
There was an excessively long awkward moment of silence. "Yeah," Dean bit his lip. He had already begun to pace and he was overly aware that Sam seemed to be watching him. "So…apparently I had a pretty wild drinking night last night." He tried to smirk, though it came out more like a mangled grimace.
"I think that would depend on your definition of wild."
"So…you were there then?"
Dean frowned as his stomach did an uncomfortable flip, "For how long?"
"…From the moment you cannot remember till the moment you can."
For a moment there was nothing but the soft hissing of static in Dean's ear.
"You are calling because you have no memory of last night correct?"
"You do not remember because I erased your memory."
The world seemed to suddenly rock beneath Dean's feet. Anger came upon him in a wave, "And here I was, hoping I just had a good time last night," Dean couldn't help the hardness in his tone. "Silly me, huh?"
He heard the angel sigh heavily, "Look, Dean…I am out in the Impala. Would you come outside?"
"Why don't you just come in here?" Dean questioned, feeling he had a right to be suspicious.
"Is Sam there?"
Dean cast a sidelong glance at his younger brother and frowned, "Yeah, so?"
"There are some…more private matters I would like to discuss."
"I would like to discuss those things with you in person," Cas' tone had become hardened as well.
"Uh-huh. And how am I supposed to trust you won't wipe my mind again, Cas? You know," Dean laughed halfheartedly, "I really did think you were different…from Uriel and Zachariah and all those other sons of bitches. Guess I was wrong." He knew it was a low blow—he could practically feel the angel's flinch.
Dean heard Castiel's voice and immediately regretted what he'd just said. He didn't know why exactly. After all, he had every right to be mad at the angel—he'd had his mind wiped for Christ's sake! If that didn't cross some kind of major boundary then he didn't know what did.
But…there had been something in Cas' voice just then—some depth of feeling he'd never heard there before.
Dean's mouth twitched in confusion, "I'll be out there in a minute." He hung up without waiting for a reply.
Sam was still staring at him.
"What?" Dean snapped out of frustration, but not towards Sam. He was frustrated because his hands had started shaking and he didn't know why.
"So…does he know what happened?"
"I should say so," Dean sat on the bed and pulled on his boots, not bothering to tie them, "he's the one who made me forget."
Sam visibly stiffened. "Why?"
"How the hell should I know?"
"You think…something happened?"
Dean paused, "Like what?"
"Well, there had to be a reason for him to wipe your memory right? We know Cas. He wouldn't just do something like that for no reason."
The elder brother stood, humming thoughtfully. Why, was the question indeed. Why, was the question that was pissing him off.
Gathering his resolution, Dean made his way towards the door, nodding at Sam as he left, "I'll be back."
"Dean, be careful not to—"
But the door had already shut behind him. Shivering from the morning cold, Dean scanned the parking lot. He found the Impala in the exact spot he remembered parking it. And there, sitting in the passenger seat, was the shadow of an angel.
Dean walked briskly, not wanting to stop lest he begin to wonder why his stomach was tying itself in knots. When he reached the car, he opened the driver's side door and slid into the seat. The door closed with a resounding slam, which only seemed to intensify the silence that followed.
Dean stared at the steering wheel for a long moment, unable to turn.
"Why'd you do it, Cas?" Dean's voice was low and rumbling.
He felt more than saw the angel shift closer and he stiffened reflexively.
"Dean…what did you dream last night?"
Dean looked over at him then—he was close; closer than Dean was completely comfortable with, but for some reason he didn't pull back. Steam billowed from Castiel's mouth as he breathed, heating Dean's face and tickling his nose and lips.
"What's it to you?" he didn't sound quite as stern as he would've liked. He couldn't help it. His nerves were all a flight, like his body was reacting to something his mind didn't know.
Castiel's gaze was piercing and his expression strained. "Did you dream of me?"
"What, are you spying on my dreams now?"
"Did the kiss not feel real?"
Dean felt his cheeks bloom with heat. How could he have known…unless—a stone dropped in the pit of his stomach.
"That—was that real? Cas—"
But Cas' fingers were already on his forehead, and something akin to electricity lanced down Dean's spine as memories slammed into his mind—bright and ruthlessly vivid.
Walking to the car.
Cas suddenly at his side.
The inexplicable emotion that had risen in his chest—a feeling that had no right or reason to arise, yet there it had been, as clear and undeniable as the feeling that raced through him now.
Dean flinched back and everything went suddenly still. He opened his eyes to find that Castiel was already looking at him, his blue gaze shining with an unfamiliar fear.
"Do you remember?" the angel sounded half hopeful that he didn't.
Dean bit his lip and tasted a cool freshness that hadn't been there before. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like a hammer in his chest. He knew he should be thinking something—anything—but he couldn't. He could scarcely breathe. The only thing he knew now, at this very moment, was the soft tingling of the burn on his shoulder.
Dean started, inhaling sharply.
"Cas…did we really…did I really…"
"Yes. You kissed me."
"So you made me forget," Dean whispered, half to himself.
"I thought you would want to forget. It is only my own selfishness that brings me here now. Because…I have to know."
"Know what?" Dean said, the words spilling over his lips without thought.
"Why you kissed me."
This wasn't real. This couldn't be happening. It had all just been a dream. He could be okay with it if it was only a dream—well…mostly okay. He knew that Cas was important to him—that was something he'd come to terms with. Cas had saved him…in more ways than one. But it couldn't run that deep. It couldn't be real. If it was real, then it meant he'd let go of something he'd sworn he'd never release: his emptiness. Last night he had let go of it—he had admitted to himself that maybe…he needed someone to help put the pieces back together.
But why Cas? Because there had to be a reason why it was him. Why not Jo? Why not Anna? Why not Lisa, or any other girl he'd met along the way? Had things been different, he knew he could've been happy with them…any of them.
"Dean? Do you remember when we were outside…and I started to say something to you, about being human?"
But the truth of the matter was, things weren't different. He wasn't some chummy guy living the apple pie life. Maybe he could've been…but he wasn't. His life wasn't normal. He wasn't normal. He'd accepted that a long time ago, as well as the price tag that came along with it.
That was why he never really got close to girls. He knew that keeping them at arms length did more than just save them…it saved him too.
Maybe that was how Cas had slipped past him. Dean had never thought to hold him back. The angel was someone he confided in—someone who he'd never even thought twice about letting in close. Before Cas…well…he'd never realized how truly alone he'd felt.
"I am becoming human, Dean."
Dean blinked as Castiel's words pulled him back to reality.
"What?" he breathed.
"I am becoming human." The angel repeated.
"Cas, if those angel bastards—"
"No, Dean," Cas gave a weary smile, "I chose this."
For a short moment, Dean found himself speechless.
"What? Forgive me if I point out that the tune you're singing is a bit different from last night."
"…I do not recall singing." Castiel tilted his head perplexedly.
Dean tried not to think about how the angel's face was angled just so, that if Dean were to simply lean forward—his eyes flickered down briefly despite himself.
"How then?" Dean said, hoping that speaking would reign in his mind and cure his curious case of cottonmouth.
Each of them leaned forward almost imperceptibly, as if some magnetic force was pulling them together. The heat of their breath mingled and stirred the cool still air.
"You're becoming human…because of me?"
Dean swallowed thickly, "Why? Because of …?"
"Of course not," Castiel said, his brow deeply furrowed, "I am sure the process had started before that."
"Before, like when?"
"Of that I am not sure."
"How can you not be sure?"
"Because I did not even know it was happening until last night."
Dean huffed, "Yeah, because that makes a whole lot of sense."
"I feel like you should be used to things that do not make sense," the angel replied, the ghost of a smile curling his lips.
Dean hardly found the situation humorous. "Yeah well…even given my low standards for what normal is, this hasn't exactly been the most normal twenty four hours I've ever had."
"So, you do want to forget then?"
"I didn't say that!"
"It sounded like you were about to."
"Then stop putting words in my mouth!"
"They were already there!"
Dean didn't know if he'd ever heard Cas yell before. Nor had he ever seen such flares of emotion dance through those stormy eyes. He didn't know how to feel about it…much less what to think.
"You really are becoming human?"
They were both breathless now, their lungs strained from yelling and their pulses flying from something more.
The angel looked down, suddenly seeming to find interest in a worn crack in the leather seat. "Dean," he began slowly, his face stretched in a heavy frown, "every moment I spend with you, I discover a part of myself I never knew existed. Everything is so different from before, but I feel warm and alive, and if all that means I have to give up my grace…then so be it. That life is nothing to me…I do not want it anymore."
"Cas…you can't make a decision like that—not for me."
"Because I won't let you."
"That is not a reason, Dean."
"It's not worth it, Cas!" Dean snapped, feeling his temper heat his skin, "I've seen you in the future and I've seen you as a human, and there was nothing warm and fuzzy about it. It—it was like I looked at you and it wasn't you there anymore."
Castiel's mouth pressed into a hard thin line. "The future is never set."
"Yeah? Well what about with my mom and dad and the yellow-eyed demon? That's not what you said when you sent me back to them."
"That was different."
"How?" Dean seethed.
"Your parents had a destiny yes, and yes I thought it was something they could not escape and maybe that is true. But you had a destiny too—to be Michael's vessel—and you went against your fate."
For a moment, Dean's words failed him. He tried not to think about why, because for some reason he feared it was because of the way Cas was looking at him now, like he was seeing something that Dean was quite sure he'd never seen in his own reflection.
Dean shook his head broodingly, "That doesn't mean anything, Cas."
"Dean!" If it was possible—and apparently it was—Castiel leaned in closer, and if Dean had ever before felt that his personal space was invaded, it was nothing compared to now. Not that he wasn't used to Cas doing such things. Or at least he had been before…last night. Now there was a strange warmth that seemed to fly all over him, as if to inform him that the angel was near.
"Before you, any angel could have looked into a thousand futures and never seen that happen. You defied Michael. You made me believe that something I had never thought possible, could happen."
"Well I couldn't just let him wear me like a meat suit!"
"Yes you could have. But you did not. Do you not understand what that means?"
"No, I don't," Dean barked, "and frankly I'd appreciate it if you gave me a bit of room to breathe."
Castiel immediately retreated far back in his seat, his expression revertingly stoic. "I am sorry."
Dean couldn't look at him anymore, not with his mind racing as it was. He could feel Cas watching him, waiting for something Dean was half sure would never come. How could it? Dean knew what Cas thought he wanted. It was the same as all the others.
Someone to look up to…someone to love.
If only they knew that was someone Dean wasn't…and someone he could never be. If only they knew what it was he saw when he looked in the mirror—the pain, the guilt, the revulsion. It was the constant shadow that hung just beneath his smile. He remembered his muddied drunken thoughts at the bar about being broken…about admitting that maybe Cas could be the one who could—Dean shook his head. So what? That meant he was supposed to let Cas dive in headfirst?
It would cost Cas everything. Everything. It had already cost him too much, and…there were some things that were just too broken to ever be fixed. So if Cas failed, then what? Just another tally mark of guilt of beautiful things he'd destroyed?
Dean gave a sudden wry smile. Beautiful. He supposed he could call Cas that. He was an angel after all. Was…
He looked at Castiel then, his throat tight with some unnamed emotion. "This whole becoming human thing, can you reverse it? I mean, you're not human yet right?"
Castiel's expression darkened, "No, I am not a human yet, but I do not think it is something that can be reversed. Chuck said that—"
"When did you see Chuck?"
"You went to see Chuck last night?"
"Yes," Cas seemed confused. "But I advise if you want to do the same that you should call first. He did not seem very happy."
Dean gave a frustrated sigh, "Why did you go to see him?"
Castiel blinked, "To ask about you." He said it as if it were to most obvious thing in the world, with absolutely no hesitation, and even less tact.
But that was Cas—that was the way he was—he never said anything but what he thought, straight and to the point. And he always meant what he said, as if lying was truly beneath him somehow. It was a trait Dean never realized he appreciated until now. Words could be easily twisted, and after dealing with demons for so long, well, the truth was like water to a parched tongue.
"Did…he tell you anything?"
But why was he thinking about this anyway? What did it matter if Cas never lied to him? He was an angel…maybe angels couldn't lie. Well no, he knew better than that.
"He told me I have to make my own choice."
Castiel's words seemed to snap Dean out of his reverie. "So he saw everything?"
"Are you alright?"
What if Sam found out? For some reason that was the first thought that came to his mind.
Dean buried his face in his hands and sighed heavily. He ran his fingers up and over his face and tangled them in his hair, clenching tightly for a painful second before letting his arms drop. He barely realized he was now staring at the motel room door.
"What have we gotten ourselves into, Cas?"
"The end of the world it seems."
Dean sighed again, feeling his breath tremor as he released it. His chest felt heavy, like there was a weight pressing in. There had been plenty of times where he'd been stuck—where he hadn't known what to do next because no matter what was done, something else was just going to get fucked up in the end.
To forget, or not to forget. Those were the choices. All this trouble and strain…and over such a small thing too. Only…he supposed it wasn't so small anymore. Not if Cas was…becoming human.
For some reason he couldn't quite wrap his mind around that thought—around the how and the why. Because it didn't make any sense for Cas to do something like that. At least, it didn't make any sense that he was doing it for him. If it was for other reasons, maybe. Like Anna—that had made sense to him…the whole daddy issues thing. He may have thought it was stupid, but at least he understood it. But Cas didn't have those issues…not like Anna did. He was the only one who still thought God could get them out of this whole mess.
But then again…Dean supposed he'd never really asked how Cas felt.
"Can I take us somewhere?"
Dean only had a moment before an overwhelming wave of warmth rushed over him. He felt Cas' hand on his shoulder and an all too familiar sharp tug pulled at his stomach. Within a blink Dean found himself standing in the dark and the crisp musk of wilted roses filling his nostrils.
"I'm sorry," Cas' voice starkly contrasted the surrounding silence, "I am still not very good with enclosed spaces for prolonged periods of time. It reminds me of—well…now is not exactly the time to talk about that."
"Where are we?" Dean asked, blinking repeatedly as if it would speed the process of his eyes adjusting to the sudden dark. He staggered back, still shaky on his feet, and was surprised when two hands caught him firmly by the shoulders. It wasn't that he hadn't known Cas was there—actually Dean had always found it a little creepy that he could always tell when the angel was at his back. It was like this little jolt down his spine and an acute pull in his chest, not to mention the soft whispers of electricity that prickled at his shoulder.
No, what surprised him was the sudden gust of hot breath on the back of his neck, and the velvet fire of Cas' hands against his skin. Dean leapt forward and twisted around, his heart hammering like thunder in his chest.
He could barely see Cas frown, "Are you alright? I did not mean to hurt you if I did."
"I'm fine," Dean was startled when his voice echoed loudly around him. "Where are we, Cas?" he asked again.
"Somewhere in Germany. I do not recall the name of the city, though to be honest I probably could not pronounce it even if I did."
"Germany? What the hell are we doing in Germany?"
Dean's eyes were starting to adjust now to the glow of the lone light above. Castiel stood not three feet away, staring into the darkness with a forlorn glimmer in his eyes. He stood so silently and so still, like a statue carved out of time, and for a wavering moment everything beyond the angel disappeared from Dean's mind. He saw that Cas' fists were clenched and that his jaw kept tensing, as it always did when he was concentrating—something Dean apparently knew without even having to think about it.
"I was here earlier tonight," Cas said, his voice softer than usual. "There was a performance going on then—a dance. And, while I was watching…I thought…I thought…" he trailed off, still staring into the darkness.
Something about that look didn't sit well with Dean. He took a hesitant step forward.
Castiel looked at him then, and Dean was caught. His body went suddenly and inexplicably hot, in an altogether unsettlingly familiar feeling.
"I thought about…what it would be like to be with someone."
Dean couldn't deny the flush that rushed into his cheeks. He cleared his throat, only becoming more uncomfortable as the sound echoed loudly around the hall, "I don't think this is exactly the time to talk about sex, Cas—though I suppose daddy dearest never gave you the talk did he. I'd hate to spoil his fun."
It was Castiel's turn to flush, "I—that is not what I meant."
Hearing the angel stutter almost pulled a smile from Dean—almost.
"Well that saves us both a world of awkwardness then."
"And besides, I already know what sex is."
"Yeah, didn't need to know that, Cas."
"Oh," Castiel licked his lips, "I am sorry."
Dean looked away quickly, and shoved his hands in his pockets to hide his discomfort.
"What I was talking about was how you and Sam are." Apparently Cas wasn't fazed by Dean's attempt to lighten the mood, "You love Sam."
"He's my brother." The statement stood for itself.
"Not all brothers are as you two are."
Dean shrugged. His relationship with Sam wasn't exactly standing on solid ground these days, but he didn't have to explain that to Cas. Cas probably already knew.
"I thought you wanted to talk about last night."
"Has there ever been anyone else?" Cas' mouth was set hard and firm.
Dean tried his best to swallow his frustration, "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Why would I ask if it did not matter?"
"Because you're nosy?"
Dean hissed, "I don't know." He looked at the floor, "There've been a couple here and there. I try to stay out of it though. I'm a hunter; having a relationship isn't exactly an option."
"But there were still some exceptions made?"
"No," Dean replied stiffly, "not really." It wasn't a lie—he wasn't with any of them now, because it never worked…and it never would.
Castiel nodded and looked away once more, "I see. And was that decision yours or theirs?"
"What? You expect me to let them come with me? To knowingly put them in danger?"
"If that is their choice, yes."
"They could die, Cas!"
Cas was upon him in a blink, his cerulean eyes gleaming with a strange fervency. "People die every day, Dean. I have watched them die for thousands of years. I too, will die one day. And when I look back I do not want to be stuck thinking about all the chances I had to live. I do not know any soul that wants that."
Dean choked on his breath.
"Do you think my mortality will render me useless?"
Dean took two large steps back farther into the dark, unable to handle the angle's closeness. Something about the look on Cas' face sliced into him, cutting deep into his chest and gripping his heart with cold hard claws. He'd seen that look before, in his own reflection. That look of defeat—so far beyond hopelessness that there was no light that could ever fully extinguish the shadow.
"This—this isn't what I wanted for you, Cas."
Cas' eyes narrowed. "What did you want then?"
"I don't know," Dean's voice was raised now, "but not this! You're an angel, Cas—that's who you are! You're supposed to be the best of us! You're not supposed to fall!"
Castiel closed in on him once more, "Whether you wanted this for me or not does not change anything. It has begun and there is no force save the Lord that can reverse it."
"Anna did it! She got her grace back!"
"Anna ripped her grace out whole. I have not. Mine would be scattered."
"Where? We could find it"
The angel's brow tightened in thought, "We could never find it all. Parts of it could be anywhere...maybe in that bench in the park, maybe in some motel rooms," Cas' eyes flickered over him and Dean felt his heart stutter, "maybe some in you too."
There was a beat of suspended silence, "What?"
"I said that there may be—"
"I heard what you said," Dean huffed, "so, you're meaning to tell me I could have some…angel mojo in me?"
"It is entirely possible," Castiel replied, tilting his head in that way he always did. It was making Dean uncomfortable—not that he wasn't already well beyond that level before.
"Ok, Cas, this is beginning to get way too weird, even for me. You can take us back now."
"You still have not answered my question."
Dean glared, "So what, this is a hostage situation now?"
The angel looked annoyingly confused, "No. I only want you to give me a straight answer."
"To what that kiss meant to you."
"It didn't mean anything to me," Dean replied quickly, knowing that if he didn't get the words out then he wouldn't be able to stomach them later. Because…he didn't want to think about what it meant. He couldn't.
"I do not believe that."
Dean growled and moved his gaze to just beyond Cas' left shoulder, because for some reason he couldn't quite bring himself to look the angel in the eye.
"You would not have done it in the first place if that were so."
"Well I obviously would," Dean said between clenched teeth. "I was drunk, Cas."
Cas leaned forward, forcing Dean to meet his gaze, "Why won't you tell me the truth? What are you so scared of?"
"What do you want from me, Cas?" Dean snarled, his fists clenching. "What do you expect? Me to tell you that I thought it was perfect?" Something in him was breaking, cracking open under blue eyes that saw too deep, "That I've been empty for so damn long that I'd forgotten what anything else felt like? That it made me feel alive again?" Words were just spilling out now, so hard and fast Dean couldn't stop them. Everything he was feeling—he just couldn't contain it all anymore. So Cas wanted to see him fall apart? Fine.
"You don't know what it's like, Cas, you don't! You don't know what it's like living with the things I've done. But I've kept it all in, somewhere where even Sam couldn't see, and then you just waltz in and rip everything back apart like it's nothing!"
"And for what, Cas? What did you possibly think would happen? That I would sweep you off your feet and carry you off into the sunset? That things would be different? That we could just leave it all behind?"
"Well we can't, Cas!" Dean's eyes burned and he could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. "Because whatever the hell happened between us last night can't mean anything! It's the goddamned apocalypse! And people out there are dying, and it's my fault! And—God—sometimes when I'm with you I forget that, and I can't forget it, Cas! I can't! I won't let myself! God, I just…" Dean's breath finally ran out and he swallowed back a choked sob.
"Dean…" ever so slowly Castiel raised his hands to cup his face and Dean was surprised by how alarmingly warm they felt against his skin, "thank you."
The surrounding dark seemed to lighten as Cas raised himself. And Dean knew what was happening, but it was beyond him somehow. The only thing he could feel was the supple pressing of dry lips against his own, and the soft heat that ignited in his chest and made his burn tingle. And it was just he and Cas alone in the dark, sharing a secret that could never exist. Cas knew. He understood—he understood everything—Dean could tell by the way he kissed him…like it was okay that it hurt…like he was forgiving Dean for something that hadn't even happened yet.
And Dean knew that Cas was the only person who would ever do that for him—love him knowing he could never be loved in return.
The thought made Dean's stomach churn.
And without even thinking, Dean kissed him back, hard and unforgiving, as if he could put everything that could've been into that one moment. He lifted his hands to the angel's throat and he could feel Cas' pulse quicken beneath his fingertips and feel his breath hitch against his lips. And that exhilarating feeling flew over Dean once more as they pressed in closer, hungry for the taste that filled their mouths and basking in the heady heat that danced across their skin. And Dean wondered what it would've been like, to touch skin against skin and become tangled in a mess of hot sweaty hard limbs and feel his body melded so perfectly into another—he wondered what it would've been like to be touched by someone who already knew every inch of him.
It was a glittering moment away from thought and forgetful of responsibilities, but that was all it was: a moment. Dean clung to it as long as he could, needing the warmth Cas filled him with and not wanting to understand or care why. But he could feel it slipping away from him, like water through cupped hands.
Castiel drew back, a final shaky breath pooling against Dean's lips. He let his fingers fall slowly, and Dean tried not to notice the trails of electricity they left in their wake, and the way that ghosting warmth still lingered in his chest. He forced his hands down as well, contorting his fingers at his sides as if it could relieve him of his want for just one more touch.
"Dean," Castiel breathed, "thank you."
They looked at each other then, and even in the dark Dean could see the glimmer of tears misting in the angel's eyes. He distantly wondered if Cas had ever cried before. Somehow he doubted it.
"Cas…I don't want to forget."
"If we ever get out of this…I—"
"You don't have to say it."
Dean pressed his lips together tightly.
"We will do what needs to be done. That is all."
Dean didn't know what to say. What could he say really? The truth that hung between them couldn't be changed—their reality was a dream. That was the way it had to be. It was another sacrifice that had to be made. But at least…this time…Dean wasn't alone.
"I can take us back now."
"Yeah…Sam is probably starting to wonder where I am."
They stood for a long moment in tainted silence.
Cas looked away, staring back at the dance floor as if it held some kind of secret that only he could know. "I love you."
Dean let the three words wash over him, knowing no one else would ever say them the same way.
"Yeah," a sad smile pulled at Dean's lips, "you too, Cas."
Then Castiel laid a hand on his shoulder, and together they flew into the early morning sky.
So yeah ummmm to say the least I wasn't exactly thrilled with the way this part turned out (which made me really sad cuz I liked the other two a lot)...but ya it just didn't feel as cohesive. And to make matters worse I just couldn't bring myself to write a fluffy ending! So it may be edited and reposted later. :( BUT I am planning on writing a longer Supernatural fic (with a happy ending) if I can get up the courage to start it.
Thanks again to all the reviewers annnnnnnd new reviews are always appreciated and they definitely make me want to write more *wink wink*.
-Aima D. Duragon
-P.S. If anyone is perhaps wanting to be a beta you should totally email me because I don't have one. You don't even have to do all the stories if you don't want, just the fandoms you like-and you totally don't have to be experienced or anything because I really don't care lol. I think I tend to miss a lot of grammar and spelling errors on my read throughs so it would be a great help even just on that kind of stuff! Thanks so much again!