Holy shit. Holy shit.
Dean stood, jaw clenched tight, as Cas slowly turned to face him. Holy fucking shit. He could still see the last bits of Raphael dripping down from the wall. Surely that was an excuse worth a little bit of a chick flick moment… right?
Because as things were, as he stood there staring down at the one thing he used to - well, trust wasn't the best word, but Dean guessed it would work - trust? Yeah. He was about one more earth shattering revelation from falling down on his knees and giving up on the whole thing. Having to put up a tough front in front of Bobby as he stared down at the thing Cas had became?
So not cool.
"So you see," fuck it, now not-Cas was talking, maybe he should close his fucking mouth already, goddammit, "I saved you."
And now not-Cas was looking at him. Fuck, this was ten times easier when he didn't have to look at him, see those fucking baby blues filled with something definitely not what Dean was used to. There was no socially awkward little nerd staring at him from three inches away about to ask him what 'BAMF' meant or why some hooker was calling him tasty and is wanting to taste people normal, Dean?
"Yes," and dammit if his voice didn't choose now to want to crack, as if he didn't have enough to deal with, "you did, Cas." Not-Cas, Dean wanted to say, wanted to scream it at heaven and hell and all the bloody angels splattered across all the walls that separated his nerdy little angel from this terrifyingly foreign fake. "Thank you." Now save yourself, dammit, snap back to normal and get that fucking look off of your face.
Dean couldn't see Bobby, couldn't tell what kind of expression was on his face. Was this one of those 'quit it with the foreplay' moments or more like a 'back the fuck away before it kills you' kind of times?
"You doubted me." Dean felt his fingers spasm as his hand clenched into a fist. Not-Cas' voice was soft. Too soft. It reminded Dean of the calm before the storm, the moment just before the end of a hunt, when you've already wasted the first monster and have to stand around waiting for the second to jump out and try to fuck you up.
"Fought against me." Not-Cas was almost smiling now. Not a high on adrenaline grin, or even some snarky smirk - Dean could have maybe understood those. Maybe. But this…
Not-Cas' chapped lips were stretched out the tiniest bit more then usual, the corners of his mouth angled ever so slightly up. There was nothing of Cas in that smile.
Dean wanted to punch the motherfucker, slam his fist into not-Cas' face until the other man (angel, whatever the hell he was calling himself now) was snarling and crying right back at him. He wanted to hurt him until he had to pick his beaten and bruised self off the floor, until he looked at Dean with hate, or anger, or any goddamn thing other than the mockery of emotion not-Cas was pretending to express now.
He wanted to run up to him, slap Cas on his stupid, stubble covered cheek, like he was some fucking girl from one of those god awful soaps, and then rape the stupid fucking angel's mouth until he stumbled back and looked up at him with that fucking 'Dean is the only person in the world' look Cas, his Cas, the real Cas had on his face every fucking time Dean took the time to look at him.
Not that he did. Look, that was. Or notice. Because wasn't it enough that Bobby and Sam and every other fucking person in the whole fucking world had to keep harping on about it? That all it took was five seconds of the two of them in the same room and then even the most unobservant fuckers were all, 'angel in the dirty trenchcoat that's in love with you'.
"But I was right all along." Dean wanted to curse, or scream, or fall to his knees and just fucking die. He didn't know what he wanted to do. He didn't know what he wanted to say.
He wanted Cas to snap back to normal and look at him and 'psyche' and then ask him what exactly 'psyche' meant.
"Okay, Cas," great fucking start, why don't you just kiss not-Cas' lily white ass and throw in the towel already, you spineless bastard, "you were."
Dean couldn't move his eyes away from him. Everything about Not-Cas was wrong, the way he stood, the set of his shoulders, the way he could tilt his fucking head just like Cas did and still be nothing like him.
Dean forced himself to breathe. "We're sorry." Sorry I didn't listen to you, sorry I didn't see what you were going to do, sorry I wasn't there to stop your sorry ass and save you, Cas, fuck I'm so sorry.
"Let's just defuse you, okay?" Dean's muscles were tensed, every single last one of them, anticipation and adrenaline racing through his blood. Not-Cas just stood there, with his head still cocked and that fucking calculating look in his eye, and fuck it if that wasn't a loaded question.
"What do you mean?" Not-Cas' voice was still smooth, gliding over each word like he didn't have a fucking care in the world, like he didn't care that with the wrong answer he was going to be fucking to world over, literally, fucking Dean's world over, and couldn't he at least pretend to give a shit?
"You're full of nuke." You're not you and I hate it. "It's not safe," because Cas, if you don't kill that cheap rip-off, then I'm gonna have to, "so before the eclipse ends, let's get those souls back to where they belong." Just hurry up and get back to normal so we can pretend this never happened and go back to killing monsters and saving people and flirting about flirting with each other in peace, please.
"Oh, no." Dean watched not-Cas say, watched him tilt his head down, watched the way his eyebrows rose the faintest amount, watched as he moved one step closer to the point of no return. "They belong with me."
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, "Cas, it's-" Dean didn't know what to do, what to say, and fuck it this was going all wrong, "it's scrambling your brain." Please, for the love of god, if there is a god, let there be a god, listen Cas, listen!
"Oh, I'm not finished yet." Not-Cas' eyes were almost glowing as his voice finally gained some faint semblance of purpose. "Raphael had many followers, and I must," Dean watched him pause, thinking but not quite fumbling. His throat was dry as he swallowed, and fucking hell, not-Cas was looking for the best way to phrase it, "punish them severely." For him.
Not-Cas was standing there, the no good fucking fake, standing there in Cas' body and Cas' trench coat, standing there with Cas' fucking look on his face, the face that said, 'Am I good enough for you yet, Dean?' That stupid fucking face his Cas put on every fucking time he did something he thought would make Dean pleased-
"Listen to me." Dean's hands clenched, fingers wanting to dig into a wrinkled collar or that fucking short brown hair, wanting to hold him still while Dean beat some sense into him. "Listen. I know there's a lot of," nothing there is nothing there is nothing in between us that can't be fixed as long as you turn back now, turn back now and just fucking stop it, "bad water under the bridge." Despite himself, despite the tens of hundreds of thousands of little voices in the back of his head, the instincts that had saved him a thousand times on a thousand different hunts, despite all of them screaming, 'get away stop get away get away get away', Dean found himself a few steps closer to him.
"But we were family, once." Not lovers but brothers, not brothers but - family. Staring at the alien Cas looking back at him, Dean held back a bitter sort of laugh and wondered if now, of all times, he had almost called Cas his wife. "I would have died for you," I'm going to die for you if you don't get your shit together, just looking at you like this is killing me inside, "I almost did a few times." Laugh to keep from crying. Chuckle to keep from dieing. Close your eyes and lock yourself away and then scream to keep from lying.
"So, if that means anything to you," Dean knew it did, that it had to. He knew he could have gone out and bought Cas a bag of fucking M&Ms and said, 'I was thinking about you,' and Cas would have looked at him with those big fucking eyes and said, 'Thank you, Dean' and meant it, would have repaid him with blood and sweat and tears, would have murdered his family (did murder his family) and done it all for Dean fucking Winchester, all for him, the righteous man who broke in hell.
"Please." Dean couldn't keep his voice from wavering, couldn't keep the fucking chick flick inspired feeling from welling up and coming out, despite knowing that Bobby was only a few feet away, that not-Cas was only a few feet away, that he was a few feet away from falling down and never being able to fix his fucking crown, never mind the world.
"I've lost Lisa. I've lost Ben." And compared to how you're making me feel right now, damnit, I don't give a shit, "and now I've lost Sam." Dean wondered, as he stared down at the still silent not-Cas, if it was a good or a bad sign that he hadn't been interrupted yet. "Don't make me lose you too."
Dean was watching Cas watching him. Dean was on his knees, screaming at Cas to scream at him. Dean was one fucking nightmare away from breaking, and not-Cas was quickly becoming it.
"You don't need this kind of juice anymore, Cas." And fuck it if he didn't sound angry, but what the hell was Cas expecting him to do? Lie down and take it like some bitch? Let him say, 'I did it all for you' and then let him turn around and say, 'just not anymore'? "Get rid of it before it kills us all."
Dean didn't yell, didn't raise his voice. He'd learned enough about that with Sammy. You don't yell, you never yell. That scares them away.
Instead, he kept his voice as calm as he could, as controlled as he could manage.
Get rid of it before it kills us, Dean screamed, get rid of it before there's nothing of you left for me to save. Get rid of it before I look at you and see something to kill, not something to-
"You're just saying that," Dean watched not-Cas watch the floor, watched the faintest tremor in not-Cas' hands, watched the last bit of his Cas rear up and almost speak its mind, "because I want-" what. Want what. What do you want, what do you want, tell me you no good fucker, tell me what you fucking want! Because I'll give it to you, I'll give anything to you, I'll give everything to you, just tell me what you fucking want! "-because you're afraid."
Dean looked at him, powerful enough to crush Raphael like it was nothing, filled with enough grace to destroy the whole fucking world if he wanted, and yet still unable to say the words both of them had been thinking for years.
Yeah I'm afraid, Dean yelled. I'm fucking terrified. So just listen, for god's sake, even if you never do again, fucking listen to me and let's be fucking afraid together.
"You're not my family, Dean." What the hell was Cas saying and what the fuck was that supposed to mean? Not family? Not family! He'll show him fucking family! "I have no family."
And then Dean was shuddering to a standstill, mouth opening in some little fucking gasp as Sam plunged the knife into Cas' fucking back. The fucking angel killing knife. In to Cas.
But before Dean could turn to his brother and scream, smash his head in and yell his little fucking heart out, not-Cas reached around and pulled the knife out of his back.
"I'm glad you made it, Sam." Dean couldn't tell if he was horrified or -no, he was pretty sure he was horrified. He just wasn't sure if it was because Sam was there and had just stabbed Cas' in the freaking back or if it was because it didn't do anything. "But the angel blade won't work."
No shit, Sherlock. Dean thought, half hysterical. Sam was standing there, the big appalled moose that he was, and not-Cas was looking at him instead of Dean.
"Because I'm not an angel anymore." Not-Cas turned back to face Dean, but Dean didn't let that fool him. He might refuse to ever acknowledge it, but even he knew that when he and Cas were in a room together, he was the only one Cas would ever really be talking to.
There were no words that Cas could say that weren't always meant for him.
"I'm your new god," not-Cas said, his big baby blues shining with false innocence as he calmly, methodically, crushed Dean's heart into a million little pieces. It wasn't the fact that he'd finally flipped the switch that had done it, Dean thought as his mouth fell open and his throat seized up. It was that look on his face - Cas' look - the look that said, 'am I good enough for you yet, Dean?'
Not-Cas looked at Dean with Cas' eyes. "A better one." I want, they said, I want I want I want. "So you will," please I want, they screamed, please I want I want I want, "bow down." Not-Cas' eyes flickered across the room, his face expressionless once more.
Stop it, Dean thought, helpless. Just stop it.
"And profess your love," not-Cas went on, eyes dead and screaming as they scanned over Dean, "to me. Your lord." Dean watched, hands shaking and mind reeling, as not-Cas' mouth flattened, face becoming almost grim. Stop it, Dean moaned, stop it right here right now and we'll all forget it, we won't remember, just stop it, stop it, and we can go back to normal, please, just stop it. "Or I will destroy you."
Dean glanced around, from Sam's horror stuck face to Bobby's tightened scowl, from his own shaking hands to not-Cas' set face.