Post by Cassiel on Mar 5, 2016 8:22:22 GMT -8
DEAN--
“Dean, just hold on,” Sam yelled at his brother who laid in the backseat, buried under towels and a blanket. “We’re gonna be home soon,” his eyes flicked to the mirror to study Dean, he could see that his brother was gritting his teeth. Sam’s eyebrows furrowed as he worried about the pain Dean was in. “We’ll be home soon,” he tried to reassure both of them while forcing himself to focus on the road.
Dean barely heard Sam as he nodded carefully, gritting his teeth as he did so because every movement hurt. He had gotten ambushed while Sam had been inside the building, and this time, there just were too many of them. Sam had come out, but not in time to help Dean – though he was able to save Dean from being stabbed for the… oh. Dean stopped counting after the fifth slash. Now all he knew was that he better not move anymore and he wanted the damn car to stop shaking so much.
Sam frowned as he grabbed for his phone, scanning through the contacts before hitting the right number – Castiel. He waited for the phone to ring, knowing that Castiel wouldn’t let it ring for long. “Come on, Come on.”
CASTIEL--
Castiel had remained at the bunker when the Winchesters went off on their case. Oh, he considered going to check in on Dean, fearing that something might happen to the hunter now that he'd just been allowed back into his life. But, Dean had asked him to be here when he got back. And, everything Dean had said in his hurry to be gone had implied that he expected Cas to stay at the bunker while they were gone. So, he did.
After all, Dean was a superb hunter, and he had his brother backing him up. Of course nothing would go wrong.
He passed time in the library, primarily. Sometimes, he would read some of the old volumes there, taking notes meticulously about what was in them – and even what was inaccurate – to give to Sam after the brothers got back from their hunt. Other times, he would work on reorganizing the books, picking up where he could tell Sam had left off, thankful that during their phone calls Sam had chatted to him about the work he'd been doing to the library – even though Cas had been well aware at the time Sam was really just telling him about it to have something to talk about, to make Cas feel better. It rarely worked, but the angel had appreciated the effort, nonetheless.
When his phone rang, always kept tucked into a pocket so that it was with him just in case, he looked up from the volume he was reading – this time, one on angels that was amusingly inaccurate – and reached for his phone immediately. Sam. Brow furrowing, he hit the button to connect the call. “Sam?”
Before he could say anything further, he heard Sam's voice respond, a frantic tone that sent a frisson of dread through him; a dread that felt exactly like he'd felt when Dean had been telling him about the words of the psychic. “Cas! Dean's been stabbed, we need you--” Castiel didn't even wait for Sam to finish. With a thought, he closed his eyes, felt for Dean's presence – terrifyingly dim – through the bond he left largely untouched out of the strange human custom of privacy and flew as fast as he could toward that fading presence fixed firmly in his mind.
In what appeared to a human observing instantaneously, Castiel appeared in the back seat of the Impala as it sped along, Dean's head already resting in his lap. “--to come--” Sam's frantic words halted as he caught sight of the angel in the rear view mirror. Breathing a sigh of relief, he tucked his phone away and refocused on driving, though he dropped his speed now to the speed limit. The last thing they'd need now is to be stopped by police, with his brother covered in blood in the back seat. Cas would take care of Dean, he had no doubts of that.
Castiel paid Sam no mind. All of his attention was for Dean. He laid his hand against the hunter's cheek, cupping it gently. He focused, pushing his grace gently into Dean, letting it work to knit flesh and and organs and blood vessels and muscles back together. He could feel the process in minute detail, the change to every cell as his grace gently forced Dean's body to revert to a healthy, whole state. When the process was done, Cas didn't remove his hand, craving the touch, needing to feel the warmth and sheer pulse of life beneath his touch.
After several moments, he looked up to Sam, his expression strangely distant, unreadable. “Sam. I'm taking Dean home.” He didn't explain further, nor did his tone, though it had a force that echoed back to the early days of his time on Earth behind it. Even if asked, Castiel couldn't have expressed just how he felt in that moment. He could have lost Dean. He could have....lost him. That, he'd realized, was unacceptable. It could not be allowed to happen.
Without another word, Castiel appeared to vanish, Dean vanishing along with him.
DEAN--
Dean let out a groan as he felt his head being lifted while the car was jostling him, he just wanted to go to sleep and forget that he was hurting. He barely could focus on Sam talking on the phone, not even able to make out what his brother was saying. He opened his eyes and saw that everything was fuzzy around the edges, then he realized someone was above him, his lips twisted a bit into something that should have resembled a smile. “I know you,” he murmured before closing his eyes again while gritting his teeth, the smile fading away.
A soft gasp came from him as he felt Castiel’s hand on his cheek, it was as if it hurt – he wasn’t even sure if the hand hurt him because everything was protesting and screaming all at once. Then… slowly but surely, things stopped screaming, fading into a whimper, then nothing.
His eyes fluttered open, he looked at Castiel, this time giving him a smile. A weak one. Even if he felt better physically, all he wanted to do was sleep for days. He said nothing as he shifted his face into Castiel’s hand because he needed that touch as much as Castiel did. The time away had kept him thinking about Castiel and his fingers.
Then he couldn’t feel the Impala moving under him anymore, it was much more comfortable. “Castiel?” He spoke softly, not daring to open his eyes just yet – maybe he was dreaming and he was in heaven, well, limbo.
CASTIEL--
Castiel had taken them to the bunker, straight to Dean's room – their room? this was something that still left him uncertain as he knew how possessive Dean was about his room – and to the bed. He'd landed with Dean stretched out on that bed, and the hunter's head still propped in the angel's lap. “I'm here, Dean,” he replied, voice soft and carefully devoid of the worry he still felt even though he knew intimately that Dean was whole once more.
Cas reluctantly moved his hand away to maneuver a blanket over Dean. Then, so carefully and gently, shifted himself a bit in an effort to allow Dean to be more comfortable. “It's alright. You lost a lot of blood. Too much.” He had to pause, swallowing down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm his vessel. Anyone who thought angels couldn't get nauseous had obviously never seen one so terrified and emotionally stressed before. “You need rest now,” he finally managed to finish, voice trembling slightly.
Only when he was satisfied did he allow himself the indulgence of simply studying the hunter, looking for any signs of anything he might possibly have missed – though, of course, he hadn't. Absently, his hand drifted back to Dean's cheek, his fingers tracing over it in random patterns. He could have lost this. The thought kept running through his mind, and it was a terrifying one.
DEAN--
Dean gingerly shifted, even if he felt better, he still felt like he had been fighting – which was what he had done. A soft groan as he opened his eyes again to see Castiel, he quirked his lips a bit, “nothing a bit of pie and sleep can’t fix.” He fell quiet, reaching out to find Castiel’s hand when it settled on his cheek, “thank you.”
Dean’s eyes closed for a moment before he opened them again, “there were just so many… If Sam hadn’t come along,” he groaned at the thought. “My clothes are ruined,” he sighed as he thought about the fact that he’d have to trash yet another shirt. Dean gave a slight grimace, “I should take those off…” He trailed off before shaking his head, it felt like such a huge task right now to even think about moving. “I’m so tired,” he chuckled, then paused – opening his eyes in alarm, “where’s Sammy? Is Sammy okay?”
CASTIEL--
Castiel's lips quirked despite his fear and worry, which was slowly dimming to something he could manage thanks to Dean's very, well, Dean remark and those vivid, very alive green eyes looking up at him. “You're welcome.” The warmth of the hand that brushed his only helped to calm him more, helping push the fear away until he had the leisure to examine it more fully. But, he realized, that's all he could do, was push it away. It was too deeply rooted to be removed entirely, all wrapped up somehow with the warmth he felt when he was near the hunter, and with the pain he felt during his exile. No, it was something he would have to try to deal with later....when he could figure it all out.
He grasped Dean's hand as worry took hold of the hunter, squeezing gently. “Sam's fine. He called me. You were the one in danger.” He gazed down into those worried eyes, forcing himself to remain calm to avoid further alarming Dean. “Dean, you...you were dying.” He paused, visibly swallowing. “You take too many reckless risks.” On impulse, Cas pulled Dean's hand up and rested it against his own cheek, much as he'd done to the hunter before, with his own hand covering Dean's hand, seemingly trapping it there. In fact, he would release it at the slightest sign from Dean that it was unwelcome.
Then, following the same sense that had lead him so far, he shifted to brush his lips against Dean's forehead. He lingered there for a moment before shifting away again, letting Dean's hand loose and avoiding the hunter's eyes as he tried to process the lingering warmth on his lips from the contact. Again, came that want that bordered so closely on need, a longing, to just be closer to Dean, to touch unrestrained, to....he wasn't sure what. Slowly, his gaze drifted back, unsure, to meet with Dean's.
DEAN--
“Ehh,” Dean ran his thumb along Castiel’s cheek while managing a grin that covered up how exhausted he felt. “What’s life worth living if I don’t take risks? We helped that little girl though,” the smile became more genuine. “That’s why I do it,” he chuckled softly, not wanting to move his hand at all. He liked that Castiel was demanding to be touched, the angel always seemed so hesitant around him. “I save lives, like you just saved mine.” He was ready to say something when he saw Castiel moving, so he closed his mouth.
When the kiss came, even if it was just his forehead, he let his eyes close. “That was nice,” he spoke after opening his eyes, finding Castiel’s eyes meeting his. Dean shifted around a bit, making Castiel move so they could be more comfortable together. When they got comfortable, Dean put both of his hands on Castiel’s cheeks, meeting Castiel’s eyes with a studied gaze. Would it be okay to do it now, or wait? He bit at his bottom lip, suddenly unsure.
CASTIEL--
Castiel couldn't argue with what Dean said. He knew why the hunter did what he did, and, generally, he approved. But it was different when Cas felt the risk could have been minimized with just a little caution. Or...maybe, an angel at his side. That thought brought forth more feelings he wasn't sure how to deal with. But, primarily, a warmth in his chest, just at the thought of being at Dean's side, fighting with him, defending him, working with him smoothly and effortlessly as a team, as they once had.
As with so many of the thoughts and feelings he was experiencing of late, he shook them off, shoving them away to be thought on later. Now, he just wanted to be with Dean, watch over him until he was certain of his recovery without any further incidents. Instead, he gave in to Dean's urging, and shifted until he was where Dean seemed to want him to be, admitting to himself it was more comfortable. And, he found, allowed him to be all the closer to the hunter.
Warmth once again, where Dean's hands met his vessel's flesh. The hunter's eyes found and captured his, and there was something there, in that gaze, that gave Castiel pause, leaving him feeling strangely breathless, though there was obviously nothing wrong with the air in the room. Tentatively, he reached out to brush his fingers along Dean's jaw, the stubble there catching and scraping against his skin. He found his eyes drawn down to Dean's mouth, where his bottom lip was caught in his teeth.
Oh.
Oh.
Understanding flared, and with it desire. He gave in to that desire willingly, even eagerly, marveling at his own daring as he did so. Leaning forward, he captured Dean's lips with his own, reveling in the warmth of them, in the press of flesh against flesh, in finally – finally – understanding.
He hadn't just fallen. He'd fallen in love.
“Dean, just hold on,” Sam yelled at his brother who laid in the backseat, buried under towels and a blanket. “We’re gonna be home soon,” his eyes flicked to the mirror to study Dean, he could see that his brother was gritting his teeth. Sam’s eyebrows furrowed as he worried about the pain Dean was in. “We’ll be home soon,” he tried to reassure both of them while forcing himself to focus on the road.
Dean barely heard Sam as he nodded carefully, gritting his teeth as he did so because every movement hurt. He had gotten ambushed while Sam had been inside the building, and this time, there just were too many of them. Sam had come out, but not in time to help Dean – though he was able to save Dean from being stabbed for the… oh. Dean stopped counting after the fifth slash. Now all he knew was that he better not move anymore and he wanted the damn car to stop shaking so much.
Sam frowned as he grabbed for his phone, scanning through the contacts before hitting the right number – Castiel. He waited for the phone to ring, knowing that Castiel wouldn’t let it ring for long. “Come on, Come on.”
CASTIEL--
Castiel had remained at the bunker when the Winchesters went off on their case. Oh, he considered going to check in on Dean, fearing that something might happen to the hunter now that he'd just been allowed back into his life. But, Dean had asked him to be here when he got back. And, everything Dean had said in his hurry to be gone had implied that he expected Cas to stay at the bunker while they were gone. So, he did.
After all, Dean was a superb hunter, and he had his brother backing him up. Of course nothing would go wrong.
He passed time in the library, primarily. Sometimes, he would read some of the old volumes there, taking notes meticulously about what was in them – and even what was inaccurate – to give to Sam after the brothers got back from their hunt. Other times, he would work on reorganizing the books, picking up where he could tell Sam had left off, thankful that during their phone calls Sam had chatted to him about the work he'd been doing to the library – even though Cas had been well aware at the time Sam was really just telling him about it to have something to talk about, to make Cas feel better. It rarely worked, but the angel had appreciated the effort, nonetheless.
When his phone rang, always kept tucked into a pocket so that it was with him just in case, he looked up from the volume he was reading – this time, one on angels that was amusingly inaccurate – and reached for his phone immediately. Sam. Brow furrowing, he hit the button to connect the call. “Sam?”
Before he could say anything further, he heard Sam's voice respond, a frantic tone that sent a frisson of dread through him; a dread that felt exactly like he'd felt when Dean had been telling him about the words of the psychic. “Cas! Dean's been stabbed, we need you--” Castiel didn't even wait for Sam to finish. With a thought, he closed his eyes, felt for Dean's presence – terrifyingly dim – through the bond he left largely untouched out of the strange human custom of privacy and flew as fast as he could toward that fading presence fixed firmly in his mind.
In what appeared to a human observing instantaneously, Castiel appeared in the back seat of the Impala as it sped along, Dean's head already resting in his lap. “--to come--” Sam's frantic words halted as he caught sight of the angel in the rear view mirror. Breathing a sigh of relief, he tucked his phone away and refocused on driving, though he dropped his speed now to the speed limit. The last thing they'd need now is to be stopped by police, with his brother covered in blood in the back seat. Cas would take care of Dean, he had no doubts of that.
Castiel paid Sam no mind. All of his attention was for Dean. He laid his hand against the hunter's cheek, cupping it gently. He focused, pushing his grace gently into Dean, letting it work to knit flesh and and organs and blood vessels and muscles back together. He could feel the process in minute detail, the change to every cell as his grace gently forced Dean's body to revert to a healthy, whole state. When the process was done, Cas didn't remove his hand, craving the touch, needing to feel the warmth and sheer pulse of life beneath his touch.
After several moments, he looked up to Sam, his expression strangely distant, unreadable. “Sam. I'm taking Dean home.” He didn't explain further, nor did his tone, though it had a force that echoed back to the early days of his time on Earth behind it. Even if asked, Castiel couldn't have expressed just how he felt in that moment. He could have lost Dean. He could have....lost him. That, he'd realized, was unacceptable. It could not be allowed to happen.
Without another word, Castiel appeared to vanish, Dean vanishing along with him.
DEAN--
Dean let out a groan as he felt his head being lifted while the car was jostling him, he just wanted to go to sleep and forget that he was hurting. He barely could focus on Sam talking on the phone, not even able to make out what his brother was saying. He opened his eyes and saw that everything was fuzzy around the edges, then he realized someone was above him, his lips twisted a bit into something that should have resembled a smile. “I know you,” he murmured before closing his eyes again while gritting his teeth, the smile fading away.
A soft gasp came from him as he felt Castiel’s hand on his cheek, it was as if it hurt – he wasn’t even sure if the hand hurt him because everything was protesting and screaming all at once. Then… slowly but surely, things stopped screaming, fading into a whimper, then nothing.
His eyes fluttered open, he looked at Castiel, this time giving him a smile. A weak one. Even if he felt better physically, all he wanted to do was sleep for days. He said nothing as he shifted his face into Castiel’s hand because he needed that touch as much as Castiel did. The time away had kept him thinking about Castiel and his fingers.
Then he couldn’t feel the Impala moving under him anymore, it was much more comfortable. “Castiel?” He spoke softly, not daring to open his eyes just yet – maybe he was dreaming and he was in heaven, well, limbo.
CASTIEL--
Castiel had taken them to the bunker, straight to Dean's room – their room? this was something that still left him uncertain as he knew how possessive Dean was about his room – and to the bed. He'd landed with Dean stretched out on that bed, and the hunter's head still propped in the angel's lap. “I'm here, Dean,” he replied, voice soft and carefully devoid of the worry he still felt even though he knew intimately that Dean was whole once more.
Cas reluctantly moved his hand away to maneuver a blanket over Dean. Then, so carefully and gently, shifted himself a bit in an effort to allow Dean to be more comfortable. “It's alright. You lost a lot of blood. Too much.” He had to pause, swallowing down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm his vessel. Anyone who thought angels couldn't get nauseous had obviously never seen one so terrified and emotionally stressed before. “You need rest now,” he finally managed to finish, voice trembling slightly.
Only when he was satisfied did he allow himself the indulgence of simply studying the hunter, looking for any signs of anything he might possibly have missed – though, of course, he hadn't. Absently, his hand drifted back to Dean's cheek, his fingers tracing over it in random patterns. He could have lost this. The thought kept running through his mind, and it was a terrifying one.
DEAN--
Dean gingerly shifted, even if he felt better, he still felt like he had been fighting – which was what he had done. A soft groan as he opened his eyes again to see Castiel, he quirked his lips a bit, “nothing a bit of pie and sleep can’t fix.” He fell quiet, reaching out to find Castiel’s hand when it settled on his cheek, “thank you.”
Dean’s eyes closed for a moment before he opened them again, “there were just so many… If Sam hadn’t come along,” he groaned at the thought. “My clothes are ruined,” he sighed as he thought about the fact that he’d have to trash yet another shirt. Dean gave a slight grimace, “I should take those off…” He trailed off before shaking his head, it felt like such a huge task right now to even think about moving. “I’m so tired,” he chuckled, then paused – opening his eyes in alarm, “where’s Sammy? Is Sammy okay?”
CASTIEL--
Castiel's lips quirked despite his fear and worry, which was slowly dimming to something he could manage thanks to Dean's very, well, Dean remark and those vivid, very alive green eyes looking up at him. “You're welcome.” The warmth of the hand that brushed his only helped to calm him more, helping push the fear away until he had the leisure to examine it more fully. But, he realized, that's all he could do, was push it away. It was too deeply rooted to be removed entirely, all wrapped up somehow with the warmth he felt when he was near the hunter, and with the pain he felt during his exile. No, it was something he would have to try to deal with later....when he could figure it all out.
He grasped Dean's hand as worry took hold of the hunter, squeezing gently. “Sam's fine. He called me. You were the one in danger.” He gazed down into those worried eyes, forcing himself to remain calm to avoid further alarming Dean. “Dean, you...you were dying.” He paused, visibly swallowing. “You take too many reckless risks.” On impulse, Cas pulled Dean's hand up and rested it against his own cheek, much as he'd done to the hunter before, with his own hand covering Dean's hand, seemingly trapping it there. In fact, he would release it at the slightest sign from Dean that it was unwelcome.
Then, following the same sense that had lead him so far, he shifted to brush his lips against Dean's forehead. He lingered there for a moment before shifting away again, letting Dean's hand loose and avoiding the hunter's eyes as he tried to process the lingering warmth on his lips from the contact. Again, came that want that bordered so closely on need, a longing, to just be closer to Dean, to touch unrestrained, to....he wasn't sure what. Slowly, his gaze drifted back, unsure, to meet with Dean's.
DEAN--
“Ehh,” Dean ran his thumb along Castiel’s cheek while managing a grin that covered up how exhausted he felt. “What’s life worth living if I don’t take risks? We helped that little girl though,” the smile became more genuine. “That’s why I do it,” he chuckled softly, not wanting to move his hand at all. He liked that Castiel was demanding to be touched, the angel always seemed so hesitant around him. “I save lives, like you just saved mine.” He was ready to say something when he saw Castiel moving, so he closed his mouth.
When the kiss came, even if it was just his forehead, he let his eyes close. “That was nice,” he spoke after opening his eyes, finding Castiel’s eyes meeting his. Dean shifted around a bit, making Castiel move so they could be more comfortable together. When they got comfortable, Dean put both of his hands on Castiel’s cheeks, meeting Castiel’s eyes with a studied gaze. Would it be okay to do it now, or wait? He bit at his bottom lip, suddenly unsure.
CASTIEL--
Castiel couldn't argue with what Dean said. He knew why the hunter did what he did, and, generally, he approved. But it was different when Cas felt the risk could have been minimized with just a little caution. Or...maybe, an angel at his side. That thought brought forth more feelings he wasn't sure how to deal with. But, primarily, a warmth in his chest, just at the thought of being at Dean's side, fighting with him, defending him, working with him smoothly and effortlessly as a team, as they once had.
As with so many of the thoughts and feelings he was experiencing of late, he shook them off, shoving them away to be thought on later. Now, he just wanted to be with Dean, watch over him until he was certain of his recovery without any further incidents. Instead, he gave in to Dean's urging, and shifted until he was where Dean seemed to want him to be, admitting to himself it was more comfortable. And, he found, allowed him to be all the closer to the hunter.
Warmth once again, where Dean's hands met his vessel's flesh. The hunter's eyes found and captured his, and there was something there, in that gaze, that gave Castiel pause, leaving him feeling strangely breathless, though there was obviously nothing wrong with the air in the room. Tentatively, he reached out to brush his fingers along Dean's jaw, the stubble there catching and scraping against his skin. He found his eyes drawn down to Dean's mouth, where his bottom lip was caught in his teeth.
Oh.
Oh.
Understanding flared, and with it desire. He gave in to that desire willingly, even eagerly, marveling at his own daring as he did so. Leaning forward, he captured Dean's lips with his own, reveling in the warmth of them, in the press of flesh against flesh, in finally – finally – understanding.
He hadn't just fallen. He'd fallen in love.