DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. I don't think I'd be writing fanfiction if I did lol
This is my first ever Supernatural fanfiction. It is influenced by S.8 E.17 'Goodbye Stranger'
I may in the future make it longer.
"Cas… this isn't you… this isn't you…"
"Bring me the table!"
"Cas… Cas… I know you're in there… I know you can hear me… Cas! It's me! We're family… we need you… I need you…"
"You have to choose Castiel. Us, or them."
Castiel stared deep into Dean's eyes as though really seeing him for the first time in a long time. His friend was pleading with him. Dean was trembling with pain and with fright, and Castiel had never seen him so broken before. The angel blade slipped from his grip and tumbled to the ground with an almighty clash, but neither of them heard it. Slowly he ripped his eyes from the man before him and looked down at the angel tablet, and he stooped to pick it up.
His fingers grasped the surface and warmth spread from his fingertips all the way up his arm. It lit up and a golden light filled the room, and Castiel heard Dean gasp in pain and surprise. Naomi was gone. Her voice no longer echoed in his head and he could no longer feel her chains about his body. He was finally free and he had never felt more alive in his life.
Castiel looked at Dean, who was clutching his shattered wrist and staring up at him with only one eye open. His entire face was swollen and bloody and the collar of his shirt was stained red. He still looked terrified. He still looked broken. Castiel frowned and then ever so slowly stretched out a hand.
Fear appeared in Dean's eyes and he tried to shuffle backwards, but his body was in shock and he was too petrified to react properly. A sort of defeated manner overcame him and he closed his eyes tightly and grabbed hold of Castiel's sleeve as his hand drew nearer. As soon as he felt the soft slightly cold fingers touch his cheek his breath hitched, but instead of the imminent death he had been expecting he felt a searing pain followed by a tingling sensation in his face and wrist, and then everything was okay. Dean looked up at Castiel with surprise and relief, gasping and still trembling.
"I'm so sorry Dean."
"What the hell just happened?"
The angel didn't answer in words. He let the tablet slip from his hand, where it landed without breaking beside him, and then he fell to his knees before Dean and clutched at his face. Now his eyes were pleading, but not for mercy, for forgiveness. For a whole year now he had been under Naomi's terrible control, unable to talk to his friends or to answer Dean's prayers. It was all over now.
"I'm so sorry… Dean... I…"
The man suddenly half-chuckled half-sighed, his now healed and perfectly handsome face breaking into one of those smiles he only ever held for Castiel. He clasped the angel by his coat and dragged him in for an embrace, but before their bodies had even touched, Castiel had locked together their lips.
He didn't need to explain himself. Too many times they had looked at each other and known what the other had wanted. Too many times they had come so close. For too long Castiel had stood by helplessly while his friend had poured out his heart and soul to the empty ceilings of what felt like every motel. He didn't want to have to wait any longer. The numbness inside him subdued and he felt Dean's body begin to tremble a little less.
The man in his arms closed his eyes and made just the slightest whimper. It was one of relief. It was one of forgiveness. It was one of acceptance. Tears rolled down his cheeks and Castiel pulled away just enough to look deep into his eyes, and he wiped the tears away.
"I need you."
Dean whispered these words again, and Castiel knew exactly what to say in response.
"I need you too Dean."