curseboxes | {perkynipples} You don't understand. I NEED pie.

{perkynipples} You don't understand. I NEED pie.

Castiel had had ample time to stew in the juices of his misdeeds long before he returned to the bunker, his groceries in hand. When Dean was not there he grew agitated. When a full day came and went without word from either of the Winchesters he grew worried.

Considering the present climate of chaos in their lives any number of unsavory scenarios had occurred to Castiel as possibilities for their absence - but Dean has forbidden Castiel to go to him, so he tries to comply with Dean's wishes for once and stays. That doesn't mean it's easy. It doesn't mean the combination of his own intense guilt, his feeling of helplessness, and general ill-ease about Castiel's fight with Dean has made it easy. By the time he hears the impala pull up outside he's worked himself back into irritation again, almost anger, and so when Sam and Dean finally make their way in the door the first thing that comes out of Castiel's mouth is a very gruff and confrontational "Where were you?"

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"Apparently, I do," Dean mutters sourly, and stares in disbelief when Cas decides to dig his heels in like he's not fucking going anywhere, like he's going to sleep down in this stupidass pit. No, that's not going to work at all, and Dean's not going to let it happen.

"Cas, stop being an asshole, okay, and get out of here."

He gives up. Dean wants him out of the dungeon, fine. He'll go. There's absolutely no sense in arguing it because Dean is just going to keep badgering him to go. And when the angels find a way to take him or they get separated again it will be all on Castiel once more and he can't stand the thought of it but figures he might as well get used to it. It is inevitable.

His face hardens a bit in anger and he stares intensely at the other man, before finally moving forward, storming past him and heading for the door. He doesn't know where he's going yet, just not here.

Finally. Dean lets himself relax just a little bit, relieved that he isn't going to have to try and drag the moron out of there, or worse, have to bunk down there with pillows and blankets just to make sure that Cas is okay, that he gets some rest. Except, well, nothing goes according to plan there and Cas pushes past him, heading for the door, and that's not how that was supposed to go.

Son of a bitch.

Dean moves after him, feet thudding heavy against the floor as he follows. "Cas."

Castiel isn't really thinking about what he's doing at this point, he's just angry, and hurt, and a thousand other things that he really doesn't know what to do with. And they need an outlet but there isn't one. Dean wants him to stay so he tries, but then he wants him to leave the dungeon so he does, and now he's following him with some other set of needs and or desires and Castiel just needs to get away as far and fast as he can. There's nothing for that either because he's injured and Dean isn't and he's gaining on him.

"You are the most infuriating person I've ever met!" He says it in a loud frustrated roar, spinning around and deciding without really thinking about it that since he can't have space he'll take the opposite. He strides forward meeting Dean halfway and grabs hold of his shirt, backing him up into a wall not far from the door. He does it with all the force he had used in the alleyway so long ago, but instead of throwing a punch instead he meets Dean's face with his own. He kisses him long and hard and possessive and demanding. It's not remotely nice or sweet, all anger, and sadness, and fear and desperate need.

Dean's expecting a whole lot of things that he's really, really not excited about, truthfully, but the fact that Cas whirls around and walls him, that comes from way the fuck out of left field.

Dean's back gets slammed to the wall, and he makes a strangled noise of protest, half at what Cas says (he is not, that goes to Gabriel, or Sam, okay) and half at the fact that he's reminded that Castiel is a thousand times stronger than him, and it's only very rarely that he shows it. Dean jerks, pulls away, except he can't, and then he doesn't want to, because Cas is kissing him, mouth hot and wet and Dean arches, drags him in close and bites at his lip, kisses him until Dean's needy for air.

And then it hits him.

Then it clicks, what they're doing, and Dean licks his lips, staring at him in disbelief.

"What the hell, Cas."

He finds himself needing air just as badly as Dean does and isn't that a bitch? He pulls back, but not far enough to let go, just enough so that he and Dean both can get some air into their lungs. His heart is pounding and the world is spinning a bit. He hadn't meant to do that, really he hadn't. It had been a knee-jerk response (since when did he have those either?) to release the storm of emotion he'd been feeling.

Of course that didn't mean that he didn't mean it.

"I'm fairly sure the appropriate term is still 'kissing'."

Edited 2013-05-12 21:05 (UTC)

Dean licks his lips again, and oh god he can fucking taste Cas and isn't that a trip, because he's pretty sure he may have considered this, once upon a time. Usually it didn't count because it was late at night when he was jerking off and half awake, but the fact that it was happening now was--

Yeah, okay, he's losing his mind because Cas wouldn't.

"No, I-- Jesus, don't be a smartass, okay, I know what you're--" Dean stops, gets his shit together, and swallows. "Why."

Why? It should be so obvious. Castiel removes his hands from where they've balled in Dean's shirt and bring them up to hold his face. It's not gentle like caress ,it's firm and insistent, making Dean look at him, making him meet his eyes.

"Because I keep trying to make you proud, because I keep trying to stay with you and I always fail at both. Because I can't do another year of being at odds with you like this. It's too much for me to take and I can't stand having you look at me the way you do when you're disappointed or hurt. Because I need you to know that I need you too and that you are precious to me, as a friend, as a brother in arms, as the person that I--"

He stops there and just stares at Dean a moment, uncertain if he should continue. Yes, Dean kissed him back but that doesn't mean that Dean isn't apt to reject this gesture.

Oh. Oh, that aches in a way he isn't expecting, and doesn't think he can handle, honestly. Dean closes his eyes a moment and sinks against the wall, near boneless save for the fact that he's still standing. He can't quite look at him, honestly, because he feels like he's disappointed the angel again.

"Just stop," Dean doesn't quite whisper it, but it's goddamn close, because he can't. He can't do declarations of feelings right now, not when he's got the threat of losing all those people over their heads. Dean reaches out, and spreads his hands over Cas' chest, holds there a moment and then drops them over his shoulders, fisting in his jacket to drag him in for a hug. It's mostly to hide his face, if he's being truthful. "Later, okay. When we fix everything."

Dean tells him to stop and he deflates, but almost instantly he feels a little spark of something that feels like hope flare up in his chest when Dean pulls him in. Castiel remembers the last time this happened, how he just stood there and didn't know what to do. This time he raises his arms and wraps them around Dean's shoulders from underneath and turns his face, pressing it against the other man's neck and jaw.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry." He squeezes him a little tighter then, wanting him to really understand how deeply he means that and thinks that ... just maybe they can fix this after all.

He legitimately cannot fathom this right now. He's all wound up six different ways and his heart is aching and he really, really wants to make sure his little brother is okay, wants to busy himself with research and cooking and doing something with his hands, something with his body so he doesn't feel so fucking useless with the deaths of everyone looming over their heads.

Castiel curls his arms around him and Dean sinks against him with a shudder, giving him the same hard hug that Sam had gotten a few days ago, breathing unevenly. "Don't, okay." Dean pulls away, face carefully, carefully blank, eyes closed a moment. "We'll figure everything out later."

Cas closes his eyes shut tight and gives himself a moment to memorize this, the feeling of being in Dean's arms and held tight, just in case he never does get it again. He hopes he will. He pulls back and because he isn't ready to let go entirely just yet, he reaches up and rubs his thumb against Dean's cheek briefly (it's a sad parallel of the touch that Dean left Castiel with in purgatory) before letting go and stepping back.

"Alright. We'll figure it out later."

"Okay."

Thank god.

Dean draws back, shifts away, as much as is humanly possible right then, easing back and swallowing around the dryness in his throat, trying to figure out how to do it without hurting his feelings.

"Now, c'mon, you look like shit, I feel like shit, and Sam's both, so I'm keepin' the two of you close."

It's alright, now, now that Castiel doesn't feel like his whole world is crashing down around him, now that Dean knows, now that he has hope.

"I wouldn't mind a shower, and a change of clothes if you have them." Because now that he's becomming human he's noticing just how uncomfortable the clothes he has on are when he has a stomach wound. "And you still have to tell me what happened with Abaddon."

Clothes and a shower he can manage. Dean nods, grateful and eager to get to something he can help, and his hand touches the small of Castiel's back, just a moment, as he walks him down the hall to Dean's room.

At the mention of Abaddon, though, his eyes roll up to the ceiling and he breathes out harshly through his nose.

"We fucked it up, that's the gist."

Castiel winces when Dean admits he made a mistake nods his head. "I imagined something went wrong when you weren't here when I returned from shopping."

He did more than shop of course and he still needs to tell Dean about everything he missed, but now isn't the right moment. Later, when he's showered and they're sitting more comfortably. "There are things I need to tell you too. Things that happened when you were gone."

"Shopping," Dean breathes out a laugh, exhausted and amused in different parts, and starts down the way to his room, opening the door for Cas. He goes digging for a pair of his sweatpants, and one of his well-worn shirts, and passes them over. This doesn't...really fix anything, not truthfully, but right now, Dean's grateful that he doesn't have to think about this.

He can shove down the fact that he's pissed at Cas, shove down the fact that he's tired, and sore, and aching over the loss of two people they'd saved, and focus on this. Focus on his brother and the angel, and force himself from there.

"So? Lay 'em out."

There is a new issue of Busty Asian Beauties and a package of toilet paper sitting on the bed and Castiel takes a seat beside it, not remarking on it. He sits on the edge of the bed and tries to think of how to tell this in a way that is .. objective, so that he doesn't make things worse. "Metatron paid me a visit."

He accepts the sweatpants and shirt and folds them neatly in his lap. "There are trials we can use in order to close heaven. I've already completed the first, but ... I don't know if I want to continue."

"...What happens when you close Heaven?"

There are a million questions to ask. What happens when they close Heaven? What happens when they shut the angels out of Earth? What happens when there's nothing left- is Cas going with them? What if he's shut out?

Dean swallows and gently picks up the magazine, the toilet paper and sets them aside, realizes he doesn't know what to do with his hands, so he straightens up an already immaculately kept room.

"That angels will be shut inside, and I will remain here. With you." Because that's what Castiel wants more than anything. He wants to be by Dean's side and if that means he has to sacrifice his ability to go home to heaven, then he will make a new one here with the hunter and his brother.

"And you'll fall," Dean says.

It all clicks into place. Castiel is going to fall if he does these, because it'll shut the other angels out, it'll leave him behind, which is why he's falling now - if he's done the first one.

Goddamnit.

"What are the trials?"

"Yes." It is likely why he is beginning to heal so slowly, why he is already falling even as they speak. "I won't lie to you, the idea frightens me, however I can think of much worse fates, and if it means I can remain here with you and Sam then I think it will be well worth the sacrifice."

It's almost ideal in a way. A blank slate, a fresh start.

"There are other things I am more concerned with than falling. Such as yes, the trials. If the other two are anything like the first I ... I don't know that I can complete them. The first one felt immoral. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I am afraid that the price of closing heaven will come at too high a cost."

This is six different kinds of not okay, and it shows on his face as he stares at him, mute and unhappy and swallowing around the lump in his throat that he can't quite get rid of.

"Where the hell did you find out about the trials?" Dean asks hoarsely, and shifts to go around the room, flopping face-first on the bed again, still in his clothing from earlier, not bothering to take anything but his belt off, which ends up in a heap on the floor. "What are they? Shouldn't the ones to do Heaven not be-- y'know, immoral?"

"Metatron," Castiel says his face stiff and uncomfortable. He doesn't know that he trusts his strange reclusive brother. He had wanted to, so badly, but after what he had lead Castiel into doing ...

"I had thought at first that it would be alright, but hearing about the trials and then doing them ... the first trial was to kill a nephilim." Castiel looks down at his hand ashamed. "I was ... uncomfortable with it once I learned what we were meant to do but things happened fast and she attempted to kill Metatron."

Yeah, needing a drink is happening right about now. He's got a fifth of something dark and amber in his bag, and he steals it out of there, uncapping it and knocking back a healthy mouthful, passing it to Castiel after a moment of consideration.

"...Wait, those are real? The hell, dude, why d'you gotta gank one? Why's a trial for an angel about ganking something?"

{perkynipples} You don't understand. I NEED pie.

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