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janie_tangerineTitle: I don't want to let you down
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Words: 1728
Summary: It surprises Castiel, how much he wants to be the one to make Dean realize that he doesn’t have to do everything on his own; if only he had some chance to prove it.
Spoilers: up until 5x18, then it goes AU.
Disclaimer: SPN isn't mine, like it's news whatsoever.
A/N: originally written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
catoasapun for the five acts meme; the prompts were protectiveness, hurt/comfort and motels. Coda for 5x18 which by now is thoroughly AU. Title from Little Steven.
At the beginning, to Castiel, it felt alien.
It, being a certain kind of feeling towards Dean Winchester which he could never suppress.
He never showed it as it was, though, which is the reason why he has just tried to kept it hidden. Right, he might have expressed it in other ways, but he was never allowed to actually act on it. Mostly because he isn’t sure that Dean would appreciate it as it is. No, Dean really wouldn’t appreciate.
He hadn’t really understood what it was at the beginning, even if, to be honest, he’s sure that it surfaced for the first time in the second he pulled Dean out of Hell. He was still in his true form and he wasn’t supposed to think of anything except following his order, but things hadn’t gone as planned. As soon as he saw his soon-to-be charge, he hadn’t simply wished to just bring him back and get started on the job he had been assigned. For a handful of seconds, the amount of time it had taken for him to reach Earth, he had wished he could rebuild Dean outside that grave, he had wished to be right there next to him when he woke up instead of leaving him to force his way out, he had wished to take his memories of Hell away entirely because he was sure no one would have wished to remember what he had seen Dean doing on that rack.
Orders were orders, though, and back then he still followed them.
It got worse. When he finally got to know Dean, and had the proof that his staying in Hell had been mostly unfair and that for how much he tried to hide it, the man was righteous and did deserve to be saved, it really got worse. The most he could do for him back then was banish his nightmares once in a while, because that he could do, but he couldn’t take the memories away entirely and for some reason this did not sit well with him. But then again, he still followed orders.
It got incredibly worse after Alastair. As he heard Dean telling him to go find someone else in that hospital room, he wanted to say that he wished they could; that he wished this burden was never placed on him; and oh, he longed to reach out and at least touch his shoulder as he had done once in order to bring comfort. Or to reach out, place his fingers on Dean’s forehead and bring the both of them to some quiet place where no one could track them down, anything to lessen his charge’s pain, but that was Sam’s job, not his. And Sam was probably out with the demon, and that was another thing that had made Castiel rightfully angry, back then, when he and Sam Winchester still were at odds; because now it was Sam’s turn to look out for his brother and he was doing a pretty poor job of it.
(Also, one thing Castiel will never tell Dean, is that when he was brought back to Heaven the first time, he only gave up when Zachariah promised salvation for both him and Sam, even if he didn’t believe the latter worthy, at the time. It’s just something he keeps for himself.)
So, yes, it got worse. Progressively. Even more so after his Father brought Castiel back from the dead if only not to give him anything after; and the more he fell, the more he had started to get what was going on within him. And the more he started wishing that Dean would just let someone else look out for him once.
It’s not like Castiel would stop at that, he’s pretty sure that whatever he feels for Dean goes above and beyond camaraderie or companionship or even friendship (even if that is included in the equation), but Dean doesn’t really take well to what he doesn’t know. After all, he spent his life taking care of people, from his brother to his father (from what he knows and what he gathered, it was Dean keeping the family unit together) to the people whose life he saves on a daily basis, but himself? No, Castiel thinks often, he doesn’t do it and he doesn’t know how to let someone else do it.
It surprises Castiel, how much he wants to be the one to make Dean realize that he doesn’t have to do everything on his own; if only he had some chance to prove it.
And he gets it, though he hadn’t really expected for it to happen in Bobby’s panic room, with a fight in an alley and harsh words spoken before what seemed like suicide between them.
“I’m sorry,” they say at the same time, and things feel less tense when Dean lets out a short laugh and shakes his head.
“What a pair we make,” he mutters as he sits on the cot, his shoulders slumped forward (he’s obviously tired). Castiel nods in agreement and sits next to him, wondering if touching Dean’s shoulder might be appropriate; he deems that it is, and so he does. Dean doesn’t flinch away, which is at least a good sign.
“I apologize for what I told you in front of the warehouse,” he says then. “I was… distressed. And angry. And… I think I felt betrayed. But I shouldn’t have said that. And maybe I should have been less harsh,” he adds as his hand moves away from the shoulder and his thumb brushes against the swell on Dean’s lips. The one he put there.
“Nah, I can’t say you weren’t right about that. Mostly. Though yeah, hurts like a bitch. But I’m pretty sure I managed to hurt you the same way without punching, didn’t I?”
And Castiel can’t answer because he doesn’t want to say yes but it’s the truth and the truth is what Dean deserves. When Dean shakes his head in obvious self-loathing, again, Castiel can’t help running his fingertip over the bruise again.
“I can’t say you didn’t, but… why can’t you just let others help you? I have a suspicion that if you had this time, we wouldn’t have come to this,” Castiel whispers, noticing the way Dean is slightly leaning into his touch.
“I don’t… I don’t even know how it’s supposed to work,” Dean admits. “I just, I screw up and I know that, hell, look at what happened with Sam, but it’s either that or… or I don’t even have a fucking idea. And at least this time he was sane enough to trust me to do it. And I don’t even… fuck, I don’t even get how much I actually fuck up with you. I just, I never think about how much you gave up in this whole thing and… I’m sorry. Fuck, I am. Hell of an example I am,” he ends, sounding way too bitter.
These are the times Castiel wishes he could speak with his true voice. He can’t phrase what he means like this, he can’t find the right words or if he finds them they don’t sound right, but then again Dean always was one for actions rather than words. Maybe he doesn’t need to say it. Maybe he just needs to lean down and press his lips to the bruise on Dean’s mouth and so he does. He gives a soft kiss, but firm enough that the intentions are clear; Dean’s eyes almost glow green in the faint light and he looks at Castiel like he can’t believe he just did it.
Which is why Castiel does it again. And a second time. And a third time, just to prove his point.
“Cas?” Dean breathes out, just a few inches between them, and Castiel’s hand catches Dean’s wrist as he brings it up to probably run it through his own hair. Which he does sometimes when he’s nervous.
“Let me,” Castiel just says. He knows Dean will get it without needing to add anything else. There’s a second in which he wonders if he hasn’t overstepped any boundaries, and then Dean’s hands reach up behind his shoulders and he buries his head in Castiel’s shoulder, letting the tension in his shoulders go. For a moment Castiel feels stunned because he had expected some fight back from Dean, and then he’s quick to draw an arm around Dean’s waist and to bury one of his hands in Dean’s hair. And for some reason that urge he’s had since he told Dean he was worthy of being saved is suddenly not there anymore, but if he learned something since he started to fall is that urges go if you fulfill them.
“Don’t ever go on suicide missions again,” Dean mutters from his shoulder, his hands digging painfully into Castiel’s coat, and he doesn’t say anything when Castiel starts to actually move the fingers that were in Dean’s hair.
“As long as I can trust you not to do anything Michael stupid,” Castiel answers, running his other hand along Dean’s back when he feels him tense.
“Deal, then,” Dean whispers back a beat later, his head turning enough that now he’s face to face with Castiel, and well, Castiel thinks, he might as well make his point clear.
He moves forward and kisses Dean, not pushing even if it’s firm, and he’s surprised again when Dean doesn’t hesitate much and opens up to him, kissing him back as a soft, contented noise escapes him. Castiel is more than happy to swallow it down.
When they part, Dean’s cheeks are flushed and he still has bruises, but he looks relieved in a way Castiel has never seen him.
“Fuck, is this for real?”
“Why would you…” Castiel starts, then shakes his head. “One day you will get in your head that good things do happen, even if I’ll give you that the circumstances aren’t exactly supporting my point.”
Dean looks at him like he wishes he knew how to answer but just can’t, and Castiel knew that already anyway; he doesn’t waste time talking and kisses Dean closing that distance between them, hoping that it suffices for an answer. And then, since he needs to prove a point, he does it again. And again. And again.
End.
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Words: 1728
Summary: It surprises Castiel, how much he wants to be the one to make Dean realize that he doesn’t have to do everything on his own; if only he had some chance to prove it.
Spoilers: up until 5x18, then it goes AU.
Disclaimer: SPN isn't mine, like it's news whatsoever.
A/N: originally written for
catoasapun for the five acts meme; the prompts were protectiveness, hurt/comfort and motels. Coda for 5x18 which by now is thoroughly AU. Title from Little Steven.At the beginning, to Castiel, it felt alien.
It, being a certain kind of feeling towards Dean Winchester which he could never suppress.
He never showed it as it was, though, which is the reason why he has just tried to kept it hidden. Right, he might have expressed it in other ways, but he was never allowed to actually act on it. Mostly because he isn’t sure that Dean would appreciate it as it is. No, Dean really wouldn’t appreciate.
He hadn’t really understood what it was at the beginning, even if, to be honest, he’s sure that it surfaced for the first time in the second he pulled Dean out of Hell. He was still in his true form and he wasn’t supposed to think of anything except following his order, but things hadn’t gone as planned. As soon as he saw his soon-to-be charge, he hadn’t simply wished to just bring him back and get started on the job he had been assigned. For a handful of seconds, the amount of time it had taken for him to reach Earth, he had wished he could rebuild Dean outside that grave, he had wished to be right there next to him when he woke up instead of leaving him to force his way out, he had wished to take his memories of Hell away entirely because he was sure no one would have wished to remember what he had seen Dean doing on that rack.
Orders were orders, though, and back then he still followed them.
It got worse. When he finally got to know Dean, and had the proof that his staying in Hell had been mostly unfair and that for how much he tried to hide it, the man was righteous and did deserve to be saved, it really got worse. The most he could do for him back then was banish his nightmares once in a while, because that he could do, but he couldn’t take the memories away entirely and for some reason this did not sit well with him. But then again, he still followed orders.
It got incredibly worse after Alastair. As he heard Dean telling him to go find someone else in that hospital room, he wanted to say that he wished they could; that he wished this burden was never placed on him; and oh, he longed to reach out and at least touch his shoulder as he had done once in order to bring comfort. Or to reach out, place his fingers on Dean’s forehead and bring the both of them to some quiet place where no one could track them down, anything to lessen his charge’s pain, but that was Sam’s job, not his. And Sam was probably out with the demon, and that was another thing that had made Castiel rightfully angry, back then, when he and Sam Winchester still were at odds; because now it was Sam’s turn to look out for his brother and he was doing a pretty poor job of it.
(Also, one thing Castiel will never tell Dean, is that when he was brought back to Heaven the first time, he only gave up when Zachariah promised salvation for both him and Sam, even if he didn’t believe the latter worthy, at the time. It’s just something he keeps for himself.)
So, yes, it got worse. Progressively. Even more so after his Father brought Castiel back from the dead if only not to give him anything after; and the more he fell, the more he had started to get what was going on within him. And the more he started wishing that Dean would just let someone else look out for him once.
It’s not like Castiel would stop at that, he’s pretty sure that whatever he feels for Dean goes above and beyond camaraderie or companionship or even friendship (even if that is included in the equation), but Dean doesn’t really take well to what he doesn’t know. After all, he spent his life taking care of people, from his brother to his father (from what he knows and what he gathered, it was Dean keeping the family unit together) to the people whose life he saves on a daily basis, but himself? No, Castiel thinks often, he doesn’t do it and he doesn’t know how to let someone else do it.
It surprises Castiel, how much he wants to be the one to make Dean realize that he doesn’t have to do everything on his own; if only he had some chance to prove it.
And he gets it, though he hadn’t really expected for it to happen in Bobby’s panic room, with a fight in an alley and harsh words spoken before what seemed like suicide between them.
“I’m sorry,” they say at the same time, and things feel less tense when Dean lets out a short laugh and shakes his head.
“What a pair we make,” he mutters as he sits on the cot, his shoulders slumped forward (he’s obviously tired). Castiel nods in agreement and sits next to him, wondering if touching Dean’s shoulder might be appropriate; he deems that it is, and so he does. Dean doesn’t flinch away, which is at least a good sign.
“I apologize for what I told you in front of the warehouse,” he says then. “I was… distressed. And angry. And… I think I felt betrayed. But I shouldn’t have said that. And maybe I should have been less harsh,” he adds as his hand moves away from the shoulder and his thumb brushes against the swell on Dean’s lips. The one he put there.
“Nah, I can’t say you weren’t right about that. Mostly. Though yeah, hurts like a bitch. But I’m pretty sure I managed to hurt you the same way without punching, didn’t I?”
And Castiel can’t answer because he doesn’t want to say yes but it’s the truth and the truth is what Dean deserves. When Dean shakes his head in obvious self-loathing, again, Castiel can’t help running his fingertip over the bruise again.
“I can’t say you didn’t, but… why can’t you just let others help you? I have a suspicion that if you had this time, we wouldn’t have come to this,” Castiel whispers, noticing the way Dean is slightly leaning into his touch.
“I don’t… I don’t even know how it’s supposed to work,” Dean admits. “I just, I screw up and I know that, hell, look at what happened with Sam, but it’s either that or… or I don’t even have a fucking idea. And at least this time he was sane enough to trust me to do it. And I don’t even… fuck, I don’t even get how much I actually fuck up with you. I just, I never think about how much you gave up in this whole thing and… I’m sorry. Fuck, I am. Hell of an example I am,” he ends, sounding way too bitter.
These are the times Castiel wishes he could speak with his true voice. He can’t phrase what he means like this, he can’t find the right words or if he finds them they don’t sound right, but then again Dean always was one for actions rather than words. Maybe he doesn’t need to say it. Maybe he just needs to lean down and press his lips to the bruise on Dean’s mouth and so he does. He gives a soft kiss, but firm enough that the intentions are clear; Dean’s eyes almost glow green in the faint light and he looks at Castiel like he can’t believe he just did it.
Which is why Castiel does it again. And a second time. And a third time, just to prove his point.
“Cas?” Dean breathes out, just a few inches between them, and Castiel’s hand catches Dean’s wrist as he brings it up to probably run it through his own hair. Which he does sometimes when he’s nervous.
“Let me,” Castiel just says. He knows Dean will get it without needing to add anything else. There’s a second in which he wonders if he hasn’t overstepped any boundaries, and then Dean’s hands reach up behind his shoulders and he buries his head in Castiel’s shoulder, letting the tension in his shoulders go. For a moment Castiel feels stunned because he had expected some fight back from Dean, and then he’s quick to draw an arm around Dean’s waist and to bury one of his hands in Dean’s hair. And for some reason that urge he’s had since he told Dean he was worthy of being saved is suddenly not there anymore, but if he learned something since he started to fall is that urges go if you fulfill them.
“Don’t ever go on suicide missions again,” Dean mutters from his shoulder, his hands digging painfully into Castiel’s coat, and he doesn’t say anything when Castiel starts to actually move the fingers that were in Dean’s hair.
“As long as I can trust you not to do anything Michael stupid,” Castiel answers, running his other hand along Dean’s back when he feels him tense.
“Deal, then,” Dean whispers back a beat later, his head turning enough that now he’s face to face with Castiel, and well, Castiel thinks, he might as well make his point clear.
He moves forward and kisses Dean, not pushing even if it’s firm, and he’s surprised again when Dean doesn’t hesitate much and opens up to him, kissing him back as a soft, contented noise escapes him. Castiel is more than happy to swallow it down.
When they part, Dean’s cheeks are flushed and he still has bruises, but he looks relieved in a way Castiel has never seen him.
“Fuck, is this for real?”
“Why would you…” Castiel starts, then shakes his head. “One day you will get in your head that good things do happen, even if I’ll give you that the circumstances aren’t exactly supporting my point.”
Dean looks at him like he wishes he knew how to answer but just can’t, and Castiel knew that already anyway; he doesn’t waste time talking and kisses Dean closing that distance between them, hoping that it suffices for an answer. And then, since he needs to prove a point, he does it again. And again. And again.
End.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 01:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 06:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-28 07:28 am (UTC)In Dean's defense, he's got a long history of evidence to the contrary. Course, he's also got an angel in his arms, so... Very nicely written.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-28 08:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-25 03:05 am (UTC)