Warnings: Character Death, "airbrushed" intimate scenes
Word Count: 2,195
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respective copyright owners
I haven't written a fanfiction in literally years. So, this is largely an experiment. It's written in a very strange manner, and I would like any thoughts on it. I am currently working on two other Supernatural fics, and this was just an exercise while I write the other, longer ones. Any critique/thoughts would be lovely. I may extend it out into a much longer fic using this as an outline, not sure. Reviews are love.
Castiel cried a lot after he fell from heaven.
Dean wasn't sure if it was because he was sad, or if it was just because the angel had no idea how else he could deal with his new emotions.
Castiel wouldn't talk to Dean about these. He would sometimes sit in the evening with Sam in Bobby's living room and, in hushed voices, converse while Dean would sit in the kitchen with Bobby and drink a beer.
Bobby would give him weird looks and asked how he felt, but Dean would just shake his head and say something about how Sam and Cas must be worse. Dean would tell him how he was lucky; how he came out of the end of the world relatively unscratched in comparison to his little brother and…lover. Bobby looked skeptical.
Before the Apocalypse, Dean would have thrown a fit over the secret conversations that Sam and Cas were having. But now with Sam having visions of Lucifer dancing in his head and Cas' fall, he knew they needed time alone to talk it out. Dean would be no help to either of them, as much as it pained him to admit it.
Instead, Dean spent most of his time sleeping in the bed that he shared with the angel. Cas would always be his damn feathered angel whether he had his grace or not, waiting for him to at some point creep into the bed.
Tonight was no exception, and Dean woke up when he heard the light footsteps and soft tears coming from Castiel. Dean would hold the smaller man close to his chest, and kiss his forehead as the angel trembled in his arms. Eventually, the tears would stop long enough for the angel to pull Dean close and kiss his lips. Castiel would pull the larger man on top of him, slipping off his shirt with delicate fingers. Castiel would beg for what Dean was more than happy to give him, as he slipped off all clothing. He would kiss the smaller man's neck and murmur that he loved him. Usually, at this point Cas would start crying again, but tonight he held onto the human tight and whispered that he loved him too, that he would fall all over again to be able to stay here forever, that he didn't blame the man for anything that had happened to him or Sam. He kept talking like this until Dean kissed him forcefully, silencing him. It felt good when his angel would tell him that it wasn't his fault, but he still was the one to start the Apocalypse. When Cas would come, he would scream with his bright blue eyes, searching for the bright green of his lover's filled with the same feeling of happiness, love, and desire.
Morning brought with it bright, childlike blue eyes and a smile from Castiel.
Dean lived for the angel's laugh. Castiel would drag him around the county and want to see everything with human eyes. Movies, carnivals, parades, Castiel loved the excitement, 'it was all just so uniquely human' he would wonder, and Dean would just role his eyes. But if Cas loved it, then he did too.
Sometimes, Sam would tag along on these trips. Even Bobby would join their outings every once and a while, but usually the two of them would be out hunting. Dean usually wished that he was out too, but Cas had begged him not to go out for a while. He is probably just nervous that he can't protect me like he used to Dean would think, and eventually he would put up a fight about it, but for now he was content playing house for the fallen angel.
The nights that Sam and Bobby were gone were the nights that Castiel would cry the least. The two men were left on their own and could be as loud as they wanted, get drunk, and make love anywhere and Castiel would laugh and smile, and rest his legs on Dean's and they would fall asleep watching classic Doctor Who, or Star Trek, or some bad Western, talking about everything and anything that they wanted.
Some mornings Dean would wake up in random places. Once, he woke up in a car in Bobby's lot to the sound of Castiel running around screaming his name. Dean had crawled out of the car, hung-over, and had to hold the angel for three hours as he screamed and sobbed.
Still, the angel wouldn't talk about the fall, wouldn't tell Dean what he felt, and wouldn't let Dean help him through anything. "I know what you are feeling, all those things are things that I felt, human feelings are something that I can help with" Dean would try to whisper to the angel in an attempt to console him, but they would just make the angel cry harder and chant "I'm sorry."
Sam had grown quiet over the last few months.
When Dean would try to talk to him about Lucifer, or anything at all, Sam was distant and would offer little response.
Dean once mentioned to Cas the jealously that Dean felt when Sam and Cas would have their fireplace discussions when Dean couldn't even get a single sentence out of his brother. Instantly, he had regretted it, as Castiel had stormed downstairs and screamed at Sam, saying that "he needed to get off his goddamned high horse and talk to his brother because this was the only damn one that he had so he had better Goddamn appreciate it." In that moment, he wasn't Cas the fallen angel, he was Castiel, Soldier of Heaven, Angel of the Lord. Sam had looked at him, and started crying, Bobby took another sip of his beer.
After that, Castiel talked less and less to Sam, and spent all his time with Dean telling him story after story (Cas had always liked sitting up in heaven and eavesdropping on human stories) or just talking or not talking at all and just lying there in each other's arms and comforted one another.
Cas did all the grocery shopping for the four men, as he had found some odd joy in the mundane chore.
Sam and Dean weren't talking, so Dean and Bobby sat at the table, talking about a hunt that he had just returned from. Dean missed hunting, and had quietly asked his father figure if he could possibly join him and Sam on the next one. Castiel had chosen this moment to come in and dropped the bags he was carrying and started screaming at his lover that he couldn't go hunting; that they "had to go to the zoo" and "had to return library books" and had to "try every flavor of ice cream from the store in town."
Dean stared in confusion. "Castiel, honey" Bobby looked away and drank more, "We can do that anytime. I have done nothing but sleep and go out for fun with you for the last seven months, I love being with you, of course I do, but hunting is my job, it's in my blood, Cas. "
The angel had started crying harder than Dean had ever seen him, and in horror he carried the angel upstairs to their room and tried to comfort him. "Don't leave me" the angel cried over and over again. "Shh, shh" Dean hushed "of course I won't."
Dean Winchester was living in a house of menopausal women.
That next morning, Dean woke up before Cas and made his way downstairs, and sat down with his brother at the table. Sam looked at him calmly and quietly said "I miss you."
"I'm right here, bitch," Dean stole a piece of his brother's toast. "You are the one ignoring me."
"I know," Sam whispered, hearing Cas frantically wake up above them, probably looking for Dean. "It's just…" Cas had already somehow made his way into the kitchen and threw his arms over the human with a breath of relief.
Dean couldn't take it anymore. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ALL OF YOU?" He swept off the plate of toast Sam had on the table. "I am. Right. Here. We fucking stopped the apocalypse. We are alive! Why can't we all just hunt and drink in peace? My own brother won't talk to me! My boyfriend" Dean winced at the word, "acts like I am an AIDS victim and can't leave my bubble! What the hell is going on?"
Sam just looked up at Cas, and Cas started crying. No one said anything intelligible, so Dean just went upstairs to sulk.
Dean stayed upstairs all day.
The sounds of yelling between brother and angel carried upstairs, but Dean had no interest in what they were saying. He laid on the bed and cried and slept, occasionally calling out for Castiel to get his feathery ass upstairs, but probably not loud enough to do anything. Eventually, he heard Bobby's voice join in with the others, but even then the oldest living Winchester didn't care. He just went back to sleep, and occasionally opened his eyes to see the amount of light in his room become brighter, then dark again as the day passed him.
Castiel eventually came up the stairs.
His eyes were red and his face pale as he slowly approached their bed. Dean didn't look up, only stared at the celling and watched out of the corner of his eye as Castiel lay next to him and buried his head in the human's chest. Dean eventually gave in and wrapped his arms around the angel.
They sat in peace for a few moments, before Cas climbed on top of him and kissed him deeply, passionately, and urgently. Something had changed in his angel, and Dean knew as they made love that this would be the last time they did so. At climax, they searched for each other's eyes and Dean couldn't help notice how sad Castiel's looked.
The two med collapsed next to one another and again they laid in peace for a few moments.
"I don't want you to leave me," Castiel started softly, quiet tears fell down his face. Dean held the ancient angel and was confused. "I won't," he whispered, "You know I won't. I'm sorry I got angry, it won't happen again…"
"But it will. And it will get worse."
"I don't understand, Cas."
"I think you do, Dean Winchester," Castiel was sitting up now, holding his human's face softly in his hands, not wanting this to happen, he never wanted this to happen.
"Look out the window." Dean was scared now as he left the bed and went to the window. He saw his brother and Bobby, digging something up.
"I DON'T UNDERSTAND, CASTIEL." Castiel pulled his human back to the bed, he couldn't do this… "Castiel, please." His human's voice broke.
"I won't leave you, Dean. I promise. I won't ever leave you. But you need to leave me." The angel watched green eyes plummet into desolation.
"What are they digging up, Cas?" Dean asked softly, his voice breaking as every syllable left his lips.
Fresh, warm tears fell down the ancient angel's face. In all his time in existence, he had never felt words flow from him with as much pain as these carried. He held his lover's hands and whispered "You, honey. They are digging up you."
Life crashed in front of Dean Winchester. The amount of time he spent sleeping, the disapproval of Bobby and Sam, secret fireplace conversations. "I don't understand."
"You didn't make it. M-my brother, he killed you. And I was selfish. I made Sam let me keep you here with me. And then I fell and I knew you would go somewhere where I could never follow." Castiel stared into Dean's eyes. Looking for anger, fear, something.
"They are going to burn me?" Dean asked after a few moments silence.
"Yes," Castiel whispered to his human quietly.
Dean pulled Cas back down among the pillows and they held each other through the long minutes they had left together. Neither of them said anything, and laid in a comfortable silence.
Castiel held Dean as the flames took him, and through the pain of having his entire existence ripped from the earth violently, he still was able to whisper "I love you" as he burned, and as Castiel whispered it back Dean closed his eyes and disappeared from the world.
Heaven was a beer, a burger, and his baby on the road.
Eventually, Sammy would join him in the Impala, and for the most part they stayed there in the front seat. The only exception was visiting their parents or Ash or Jo.
Something was always missing though, and Dean felt the gnawing at his heart.
But on one of these days he had gone out on his own while Sam visited Jessica. He was smiling, not paying attention to the road, when by chance he looked up and saw beautiful, large wings fill up the road. Shocked, Dean slammed on the breaks of the Impala, staring in awe.