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janie_tangerineAaand, first five acts fic that was more than 2000 words and I couldn't bother to split in comments.
Title: in my time of need
Pairing: Balthazar/Castiel/Dean
Word count: ∼2200
Rating: Pg13
Spoilers: up until 6x20 - 100% speculation after since it's supposed to be set after-finale.
Warnings: none that I can think of.
Disclaimer: if SPN was mine it'd air on HBO.
Summary: Castiel looks up. He’s lying in the bed in Bobby Singer’s guest room, he’s wearing clean pajamas, he’s covered with three blankets, and then he sees that Dean is sitting on the left side of the bed, Balthazar on the right one, and they’re both looking at him as if they were beyond relieved that he’s still alive and it just – it doesn’t make sense.
A/N: written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hitlikehammers for the five acts meme - the prompts were caring for someone after they've been injured (as a specific of near death experiences) and happiness/happy endings. Sorry for the utter lack of porn but I had started this from Dean's POV in order to get there, then something was off, I switched to Cas and the story flowed a lot better, but clearly it didn't want to go beyond PG13. I hope it satisfies you anyway! ;) ♥ title stolen from Ryan Adams.
The first time Castiel comes back to consciousness after his last stand with Raphael (and when he had used his own grace the same way a human could use a small nuclear weapon, he hadn’t been sure he’d survive that at all) everything is hazy and blurry. He can’t keep his eyes open, and the only thing he can process is that he’s in a human body and he’s most probably grace-less. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out of it – maybe a small moan of pain? Everything hurts, he can’t focus, and –
There’s a hand on his forehead, and one on his arm. The one on his arm is rougher, more calloused – but both of them are somewhat familiar. He can’t really understand anything though, he can’t even see beyond a blur of colors.
“Raphael –” he manages, but then the hand on his forehead starts carding through his hair and it feels too nice to even think about what he was going to say.
“You did it,” a voice says, and it’s familiar, but he just can’t place it – “And that was the most stupid thing I’ve seen any angel do in my existence, Cassie.”
“And that’d be the only thing on which I’ve agreed with him since we met,” another familiar voice says. “Just lie down and relax, okay?” that same voice asks, and then there’s a tingling on his arm and everything goes dark. But it happens somewhat slowly, and nicely, and it doesn’t feel like being obliterated.
--
The second time he comes back to consciousness, he’s distressed – he’s seen Raphael killing him the first time and then revived that entire first conversation they had in Heaven, and then he had felt Zachariah ripping off his right wing the first time he was brought back by force, and when he opens his eyes everything is still fuzzy and his cheeks are wet. He can’t focus, he can’t even move, and then the hand with rough fingers is moving sweaty strands of hair away from his forehead. It’s soothing, and he relaxes just a bit – and there’s another hand reaching down and holding his own. It feels strange, when fingers thread through his own and he can’t even move them.
“You’re okay,” the first familiar voice says. It’s rough, and next to his ear – it belongs to the same person stroking his hair and it sounds like they’re trying not to lose control. “You’re okay, that wasn’t real.”
“Cassie, seriously, you could go back home and give martyrs lessons in martyrdom,” the second voice says – it belongs to the person holding his hand. “Relax. That’s just some pesky human inconvenient, but then again it’s better than you being dead, yes?”
“That doesn’t seem to me like the fucking right time to mention it,” the first voice says, but that’s not directed at Castiel.
“Excuse me, you’re too righteous even for being the righteous man, you know that?”
Righteous – something switches in Castiel’s head, like he knows he should be aware of what’s happening if that person is around, but he’s so tired – and then he can just focus on that hand still carding slowly through his hair.
“Don’t – just go back to sleep. You’re okay.”
Castiel closes his eyes and does it – he doesn’t dream.
--
The third time he’s finally all there – he remembers everything. Balthazar giving him Gabriel’s blade at the last second (he doesn’t even know how he found it), striking Raphael with it and then taking his own grace out of his body to try to destroy him and his vessel at once, Dean screaming at him not to do it, and then –
Castiel looks up. He’s lying in the bed in Bobby Singer’s guest room, he’s wearing clean pajamas, he’s covered with three blankets, and then he sees that Dean is sitting on the left side of the bed, Balthazar on the right one, and they’re both looking at him as if they were beyond relieved that he’s still alive and it just – it doesn’t make sense. Dean had made clear enough where he stood, the last time they talked to each other, and the fact that Balthazar is even in the same room as Dean and that they’re both alive is enough to make him feel baffled.
“Thank fuck,” Dean says, “I was worrying that you wouldn’t wake up anymore.”
“I – what?”
“Cassie, you’ve been out for two bloody weeks. I was starting to get worried, just so you know that.”
“And at the beginning – fuck, you were so – hey, are you feeling okay?”
“I – I guess so, but–”
“You were screaming half of the time. I think you owe the old guy a whole lot of morphine, Cassie. Not that I hadn’t tried to calm you down without, but apparently ripping your own grace out means outright refusing it when someone else tries to use theirs to help you,” Balthazar keeps on, and it doesn’t make sense.
“But – I mean, what are you two even doing here? What am I even doing here?” Castiel manages.
Dean and Balthazar look at each other, then Balthazar scowls in Dean’s direction. “Hey, you’re the one who’s been driving me crazy for two weeks because you felt guilty, you go first.”
“I never told you that –”
“Even if someone doesn’t want to read your lousy mind, and believe me, I don’t, one could still hear you for how loud your were thinking. So, do it. I’ll just stand back and watch the show.”
“You’re hilarious,” Dean says, but it’s without venom. Then he turns to Castiel. And – Dean’s face, his expression is downright pleading. Like that time in the green room.
“Cas, I’m sorry. We didn’t have any right to trap you just because you did what everyone in this house except for him has done at some point of the other. I had no right to tell you that I’d have tried to stop you all means necessary without giving you a… well, a real way out instead of nice words. And well, Balthazar here told me a couple of things and – fuck, you spent all this time just looking out for us on top of all the rest and that was what we gave you? That was shitty. Again, I’m – I’m sorry. You don’t even know how much.”
Castiel remembers now – it had been Dean giving him the morphine and calming him down. But Balthazar had been there too, and –
“That speech was so romantic I could throw up,” Balthazar says, and Castiel turns towards him, cautious. “Right, guess it’s my turn. Listen, he has a lot more to be sorry for, but I’ve spent two weeks thinking that if only I hadn’t let you believe I was dead or if I had given you the weapons earlier you would have never arrived at… this. It’s not like I think you deserve being stuck down here for a while but then again it’s better than you being dead, so good luck with that. By the way, things in Heaven are fine. Raphael’s followers haven’t been trying to do anything and I guess that everyone decided to think about stuff for a while. Maybe they will get what to do with free will now that no one is there to lead them at all, but – that’s it. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re still around.”
“And you call my speech romantic?” Dean snorts.
“Are you two – are you two getting along?” Castiel asks, realizing that after what they said it shouldn’t be the first thing he’s supposed to ask, but –
They look at each other again, and they both shrug like it’s no big deal. More or less in the same way.
“Well, he showed up and said he was gonna stick around until you were fine,” Dean starts, “and I figured you’re entitled to your own friends, as questionable as they get.”
“Thank you,” Balthazar hisses, but without malice. “Anyway, I’ll admit that for a human he isn’t that bad. After he decides that you aren’t a threat to him. Also, I’ll admit that he doesn’t have bad taste, TV wise.”
“Hey, you were the one insisting for the Deadwood marathon, not me,” Dean replies, but it’s obvious that they aren’t arguing for real, and –
He can’t help it. He doesn’t even know when it happens but one second he’s processing the information (he’s alive, the both of them are here, Dean still cares for him, they both still do, he’s here because the both of them worked together because of him) and the second he feels salt on his mouth, and he knows that he’s crying. But it’s not the bad kind of crying – he’s feeling elated, more than anything else. And then the two of them are very much right up in what Dean calls personal space, Balthazar’s hand on his shoulder, Dean’s on his arm.
“Cas, what – are you okay? Do you need anything?”
“You look – heck, Cassie, I don’t even know. But that’s a completely stupid expression even for a human and having just become one doesn’t change –”
“I don’t need anything,” Castiel interrupts. “I think – I think that everything I need is right in front of me,” he adds, his voice low, and he can’t help smiling a bit even if he’s still crying. He moves his right hand so that it covers Balthazar’s, and Balthazar lets out a gasp.
“You – you remember that?”
“I wasn’t exactly coherent, but – yes, I do,” he answers, then he turns towards Dean, and they’re so close –
Dean’s hand reaches Castiel’s cheek, wiping away a couple of tear tracks. “Hey,” he whispers, “apart from that bit about stopping you all means necessary – that entire speech? It still counts, if –”
Castiel can’t stop himself – he moves forward, kisses Dean’s cheek, feels Dean’s breath speeding up. And then he feels Balthazar moving his hand and threads their fingers together instead. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing, rationally, but the only thing he knows is that he wants the both of them close. And maybe it’s asking too much, but he’s done thinking everything through. And for all he has fought for free will, he has never let himself have what he wanted for now. It’s high time he starts.
“I suppose that if I asked the both of you to make your truce last a little longer it would be a lot, wouldn’t it?” he asks, but he isn’t trying to blackmail them or anything – he just wants them to understand what he wants.
And then –
“Well,” Dean says, turning towards Balthazar, “looks like it’s come to that.”
“Looks like it,” Balthazar answers. “At least you’re good looking.”
“What –”
“See,” Dean starts, “at some point we might have sat down and talked things through.”
“With a great effort on his side.”
“Shut up, you. And we agreed that if it meant that you were happy, we could work together. More or less. Also, I didn’t need him to tell me that you like me that way while in a completely different universe, you know? Just thought I’d mention that.”
Before Castiel can reply, Balthazar raises a hand. “And you shouldn’t feel guilty for liking two people. Yes, I read your mind at some point before you went on your suicide mission. No, you didn’t pay enough attention, since you didn’t even realize that I was doing it. Now, and that’s your luck, apart from the fact that he isn’t bad looking, let’s also say that I’m an open-minded person and that I wouldn’t have risked my neck against Raphael for just anyone.”
“Oh, come on, how fucking much can you talk?” Dean huffs, and then he reaches out, grabs Balthazar’s shirt at the neck, moves forward and kisses him. Balthazar stills for a second but kisses back, willingly enough, and Castiel – Castiel’s mouth goes dry at the sight.
“What he meant, is that if you want the both of us, no one’s gonna object. Me and him, we’re okay. And we want you to be okay, so the only thing you have to do is ask. Worry about yourself, for once.”
Castiel looks down at his hands – one of Dean’s covers his left, one of Balthazar’s his right, and he thinks he might burst. He doesn’t want to choose and now he doesn’t have to, and he thinks he might start crying again from relief but he doesn’t. He looks up at them instead, nods, ignoring how tight his throat is feeling.
“There is nothing else I want,” he manages, and then Dean’s mouth is on his, and when Dean’s done Balthazar follows. Dean kisses him slow, Balthazar with more urge, both of them taking their time, and both of them keeping their hands on him throughout all of it – Castiel’s new, human heart beats wildly, without control. And as he kisses the both of them back, he thinks that if dying twice, losing his grace for good and almost losing himself in the process gained him this, it was all worth it.
End.
Title: in my time of need
Pairing: Balthazar/Castiel/Dean
Word count: ∼2200
Rating: Pg13
Spoilers: up until 6x20 - 100% speculation after since it's supposed to be set after-finale.
Warnings: none that I can think of.
Disclaimer: if SPN was mine it'd air on HBO.
Summary: Castiel looks up. He’s lying in the bed in Bobby Singer’s guest room, he’s wearing clean pajamas, he’s covered with three blankets, and then he sees that Dean is sitting on the left side of the bed, Balthazar on the right one, and they’re both looking at him as if they were beyond relieved that he’s still alive and it just – it doesn’t make sense.
A/N: written for
hitlikehammers for the five acts meme - the prompts were caring for someone after they've been injured (as a specific of near death experiences) and happiness/happy endings. Sorry for the utter lack of porn but I had started this from Dean's POV in order to get there, then something was off, I switched to Cas and the story flowed a lot better, but clearly it didn't want to go beyond PG13. I hope it satisfies you anyway! ;) ♥ title stolen from Ryan Adams.The first time Castiel comes back to consciousness after his last stand with Raphael (and when he had used his own grace the same way a human could use a small nuclear weapon, he hadn’t been sure he’d survive that at all) everything is hazy and blurry. He can’t keep his eyes open, and the only thing he can process is that he’s in a human body and he’s most probably grace-less. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out of it – maybe a small moan of pain? Everything hurts, he can’t focus, and –
There’s a hand on his forehead, and one on his arm. The one on his arm is rougher, more calloused – but both of them are somewhat familiar. He can’t really understand anything though, he can’t even see beyond a blur of colors.
“Raphael –” he manages, but then the hand on his forehead starts carding through his hair and it feels too nice to even think about what he was going to say.
“You did it,” a voice says, and it’s familiar, but he just can’t place it – “And that was the most stupid thing I’ve seen any angel do in my existence, Cassie.”
“And that’d be the only thing on which I’ve agreed with him since we met,” another familiar voice says. “Just lie down and relax, okay?” that same voice asks, and then there’s a tingling on his arm and everything goes dark. But it happens somewhat slowly, and nicely, and it doesn’t feel like being obliterated.
--
The second time he comes back to consciousness, he’s distressed – he’s seen Raphael killing him the first time and then revived that entire first conversation they had in Heaven, and then he had felt Zachariah ripping off his right wing the first time he was brought back by force, and when he opens his eyes everything is still fuzzy and his cheeks are wet. He can’t focus, he can’t even move, and then the hand with rough fingers is moving sweaty strands of hair away from his forehead. It’s soothing, and he relaxes just a bit – and there’s another hand reaching down and holding his own. It feels strange, when fingers thread through his own and he can’t even move them.
“You’re okay,” the first familiar voice says. It’s rough, and next to his ear – it belongs to the same person stroking his hair and it sounds like they’re trying not to lose control. “You’re okay, that wasn’t real.”
“Cassie, seriously, you could go back home and give martyrs lessons in martyrdom,” the second voice says – it belongs to the person holding his hand. “Relax. That’s just some pesky human inconvenient, but then again it’s better than you being dead, yes?”
“That doesn’t seem to me like the fucking right time to mention it,” the first voice says, but that’s not directed at Castiel.
“Excuse me, you’re too righteous even for being the righteous man, you know that?”
Righteous – something switches in Castiel’s head, like he knows he should be aware of what’s happening if that person is around, but he’s so tired – and then he can just focus on that hand still carding slowly through his hair.
“Don’t – just go back to sleep. You’re okay.”
Castiel closes his eyes and does it – he doesn’t dream.
--
The third time he’s finally all there – he remembers everything. Balthazar giving him Gabriel’s blade at the last second (he doesn’t even know how he found it), striking Raphael with it and then taking his own grace out of his body to try to destroy him and his vessel at once, Dean screaming at him not to do it, and then –
Castiel looks up. He’s lying in the bed in Bobby Singer’s guest room, he’s wearing clean pajamas, he’s covered with three blankets, and then he sees that Dean is sitting on the left side of the bed, Balthazar on the right one, and they’re both looking at him as if they were beyond relieved that he’s still alive and it just – it doesn’t make sense. Dean had made clear enough where he stood, the last time they talked to each other, and the fact that Balthazar is even in the same room as Dean and that they’re both alive is enough to make him feel baffled.
“Thank fuck,” Dean says, “I was worrying that you wouldn’t wake up anymore.”
“I – what?”
“Cassie, you’ve been out for two bloody weeks. I was starting to get worried, just so you know that.”
“And at the beginning – fuck, you were so – hey, are you feeling okay?”
“I – I guess so, but–”
“You were screaming half of the time. I think you owe the old guy a whole lot of morphine, Cassie. Not that I hadn’t tried to calm you down without, but apparently ripping your own grace out means outright refusing it when someone else tries to use theirs to help you,” Balthazar keeps on, and it doesn’t make sense.
“But – I mean, what are you two even doing here? What am I even doing here?” Castiel manages.
Dean and Balthazar look at each other, then Balthazar scowls in Dean’s direction. “Hey, you’re the one who’s been driving me crazy for two weeks because you felt guilty, you go first.”
“I never told you that –”
“Even if someone doesn’t want to read your lousy mind, and believe me, I don’t, one could still hear you for how loud your were thinking. So, do it. I’ll just stand back and watch the show.”
“You’re hilarious,” Dean says, but it’s without venom. Then he turns to Castiel. And – Dean’s face, his expression is downright pleading. Like that time in the green room.
“Cas, I’m sorry. We didn’t have any right to trap you just because you did what everyone in this house except for him has done at some point of the other. I had no right to tell you that I’d have tried to stop you all means necessary without giving you a… well, a real way out instead of nice words. And well, Balthazar here told me a couple of things and – fuck, you spent all this time just looking out for us on top of all the rest and that was what we gave you? That was shitty. Again, I’m – I’m sorry. You don’t even know how much.”
Castiel remembers now – it had been Dean giving him the morphine and calming him down. But Balthazar had been there too, and –
“That speech was so romantic I could throw up,” Balthazar says, and Castiel turns towards him, cautious. “Right, guess it’s my turn. Listen, he has a lot more to be sorry for, but I’ve spent two weeks thinking that if only I hadn’t let you believe I was dead or if I had given you the weapons earlier you would have never arrived at… this. It’s not like I think you deserve being stuck down here for a while but then again it’s better than you being dead, so good luck with that. By the way, things in Heaven are fine. Raphael’s followers haven’t been trying to do anything and I guess that everyone decided to think about stuff for a while. Maybe they will get what to do with free will now that no one is there to lead them at all, but – that’s it. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re still around.”
“And you call my speech romantic?” Dean snorts.
“Are you two – are you two getting along?” Castiel asks, realizing that after what they said it shouldn’t be the first thing he’s supposed to ask, but –
They look at each other again, and they both shrug like it’s no big deal. More or less in the same way.
“Well, he showed up and said he was gonna stick around until you were fine,” Dean starts, “and I figured you’re entitled to your own friends, as questionable as they get.”
“Thank you,” Balthazar hisses, but without malice. “Anyway, I’ll admit that for a human he isn’t that bad. After he decides that you aren’t a threat to him. Also, I’ll admit that he doesn’t have bad taste, TV wise.”
“Hey, you were the one insisting for the Deadwood marathon, not me,” Dean replies, but it’s obvious that they aren’t arguing for real, and –
He can’t help it. He doesn’t even know when it happens but one second he’s processing the information (he’s alive, the both of them are here, Dean still cares for him, they both still do, he’s here because the both of them worked together because of him) and the second he feels salt on his mouth, and he knows that he’s crying. But it’s not the bad kind of crying – he’s feeling elated, more than anything else. And then the two of them are very much right up in what Dean calls personal space, Balthazar’s hand on his shoulder, Dean’s on his arm.
“Cas, what – are you okay? Do you need anything?”
“You look – heck, Cassie, I don’t even know. But that’s a completely stupid expression even for a human and having just become one doesn’t change –”
“I don’t need anything,” Castiel interrupts. “I think – I think that everything I need is right in front of me,” he adds, his voice low, and he can’t help smiling a bit even if he’s still crying. He moves his right hand so that it covers Balthazar’s, and Balthazar lets out a gasp.
“You – you remember that?”
“I wasn’t exactly coherent, but – yes, I do,” he answers, then he turns towards Dean, and they’re so close –
Dean’s hand reaches Castiel’s cheek, wiping away a couple of tear tracks. “Hey,” he whispers, “apart from that bit about stopping you all means necessary – that entire speech? It still counts, if –”
Castiel can’t stop himself – he moves forward, kisses Dean’s cheek, feels Dean’s breath speeding up. And then he feels Balthazar moving his hand and threads their fingers together instead. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing, rationally, but the only thing he knows is that he wants the both of them close. And maybe it’s asking too much, but he’s done thinking everything through. And for all he has fought for free will, he has never let himself have what he wanted for now. It’s high time he starts.
“I suppose that if I asked the both of you to make your truce last a little longer it would be a lot, wouldn’t it?” he asks, but he isn’t trying to blackmail them or anything – he just wants them to understand what he wants.
And then –
“Well,” Dean says, turning towards Balthazar, “looks like it’s come to that.”
“Looks like it,” Balthazar answers. “At least you’re good looking.”
“What –”
“See,” Dean starts, “at some point we might have sat down and talked things through.”
“With a great effort on his side.”
“Shut up, you. And we agreed that if it meant that you were happy, we could work together. More or less. Also, I didn’t need him to tell me that you like me that way while in a completely different universe, you know? Just thought I’d mention that.”
Before Castiel can reply, Balthazar raises a hand. “And you shouldn’t feel guilty for liking two people. Yes, I read your mind at some point before you went on your suicide mission. No, you didn’t pay enough attention, since you didn’t even realize that I was doing it. Now, and that’s your luck, apart from the fact that he isn’t bad looking, let’s also say that I’m an open-minded person and that I wouldn’t have risked my neck against Raphael for just anyone.”
“Oh, come on, how fucking much can you talk?” Dean huffs, and then he reaches out, grabs Balthazar’s shirt at the neck, moves forward and kisses him. Balthazar stills for a second but kisses back, willingly enough, and Castiel – Castiel’s mouth goes dry at the sight.
“What he meant, is that if you want the both of us, no one’s gonna object. Me and him, we’re okay. And we want you to be okay, so the only thing you have to do is ask. Worry about yourself, for once.”
Castiel looks down at his hands – one of Dean’s covers his left, one of Balthazar’s his right, and he thinks he might burst. He doesn’t want to choose and now he doesn’t have to, and he thinks he might start crying again from relief but he doesn’t. He looks up at them instead, nods, ignoring how tight his throat is feeling.
“There is nothing else I want,” he manages, and then Dean’s mouth is on his, and when Dean’s done Balthazar follows. Dean kisses him slow, Balthazar with more urge, both of them taking their time, and both of them keeping their hands on him throughout all of it – Castiel’s new, human heart beats wildly, without control. And as he kisses the both of them back, he thinks that if dying twice, losing his grace for good and almost losing himself in the process gained him this, it was all worth it.
End.
