Author: Mistofstars
Pairing: Dean Winchester / Castiel (Destiel) [rather hinted]
Plot: Dean struggles with the memories of his time in Hell, Castiel is there to help him through the night.
Rating: T or 13+
Disclaimer: Neither Dean nor Castiel belong to me, they belong to the producers and authors of Supernatural. All of this is made up, I'm not making any money with this.
Author's note: Well, I don't know what this is either. I pondered way too long about these few lines.
=|||Solace For Nocturnal Hours|||=
It was night. Dean sat on a soft mattress of the motel room's bed, a gloomy expression on his face. His eyes weren't focussed on anything; he was deeply lost in thoughts. In his mind he saw meat hooks, iron chains, knives, needles, all the things he had been tortured with for thirty years in Hell. All the things he had tortured other lost souls with for ten years.
The pain his body had felt still seemed so real and permanent, it was as if he was left in a traumatic shock state. He still heard his own screams resounding in his ears, begging for mercy or an end, anything, to make it stop. Then the sound of his insane, hysteric laughter, when Alistair had offered him an escape and his own voice screaming his refusal. Widened eyes of agonized women and men he had tortured and killed came to his mind. Their stuttered pleas, their screams.
He grimaced and got up, immediately reaching for the bottle. How was he
supposed to life with these memories? Would they ever stop or lessen their frequency? Quickly he took a fist
full of random pills (pain killers, antidepressants) and gulped them down with the alcohol. The liquid burnt in his throat, made him feel alive, but somehow also worsened the pain he felt in his soul.
The sound of fluttering wings filled the room abruptly and quietly.
"Do you think this is going to help?", he suddenly heard Castiel's dark voice ask quietly behind him.
He turned around and gave him an honest yet broken smile.
"No", he answered, his voice husky from the alcohol. Castiel observed him quite confused, trying to read Dean's thoughts. Dean was pretty sure Cas knew what he had remembered and what he was still struggling with. Hell, and his own inner hell. He would have to live with both.
"Then why are you doing this?"
"I'm still trying to convince myself it actually helps", Dean grinned and winked at Cas, but there wasn't humour in his voice nor any vivid sparkle in his green eyes. He sounded tired, lost. Cas watched him as the took another few gulps from the bottle. Then he sighed, put the drink away and sat down on the bed, letting his head hang down; soon he buried it in his hands.
"I can't help it, Cas. These thoughts in my head… it feels like…"
A sad expression flashed over Castiel's solemn face, pity filled his being, as he walked over to Dean and placed his hand gently on his shoulder. Dean didn't look up, but sighed long and heavily as if to ease the burden.
"Sometimes I wish you could just do that trick with your fingers, touch my head and send me to death, so I wouldn't have to live with this", he mumbled with his low voice. Castiel was silent for a few seconds, thinking about Dean's words. His fingers tightened their grip on Dean's shoulder and Dean looked up, hopelessness plain in his eyes.
"There was a reason why I brought you out of Hell. There is a plan for you, Dean, and you have to stay on this path until it's unfolded before you and walked upon."
Resignation and anger spread over Dean's features. He got up and walked to the window, watching some pedestrians outside. There was a young couple walking a dog, a lone old man taking a stroll and mumbling to himself… Jealousy overtook Dean. All these people that were allowed to lead their simple lives unmolested, with their daily joys and personal problems. He envied them. How he wished all he had to worry about were the monthly rent for his flat or his annoying colleagues at work.
He sighed, feeling the pills starting to numb his body. His fingertips tickled in an unhealthy way.
"What about my plans, Cas?", he asked sadly, already knowing the answers.
"Am I not allowed to have a life, too? A family? Happiness?"
He heard Cas' slow steps approaching him, and a warmth caught his stomach and gripped it tightly.
The hair on his neck seemed electrified when he almost felt Castiel's body warmth on his back. The angel entwined his arms around Dean's hips and buried his face on Dean's shoulder. Dean took a deep breath, and Cas inhaled deeply too. Dean couldn't know it was his unique fragrance which Cas longed for when he breathed in so deeply. There were only four people on this world (and below and above) Dean had ever trusted to turn his back to – his dad, Sam, Bobby – and Castiel. He trusted the angel beyond doubt.
It did him good to feel his clumsy embrace, to feel the steady hold of his arms. Whenever Cas touched him,
his memories of Hell and all his traumatic feelings seemed to shrink, seemed to better at least for a while.
"You know the answers, Dean. Great deeds are achieved by great sacrifices", he whispered, and although the content of his words hurt Dean too much inside, they felt like a caress at the same time. He leaned his head back against Castiel's so that they were to cheek to cheek.
Castiel's arms around his body held him even tighter. Dean felt drowsy, exhausted, high. Aroused.
"That's not what my life was supposed to be."
"According to you", Castiel said quietly. Dean held perfectly still for a moment, thousand thoughts and questions rushing through his brain.
"I will always stand by your side and help you carry this burden", Castiel said after a few seconds of silence.
Dean smiled and put his hands above Castiel's, softly stroking one of them with his thumb. A feather-light kiss upon his cheek gave him the slightest ounce of happiness he was still able to feel.
His head was spinning, his limbs suddenly gave way, and he felt an incredible heat within his body.
He felt sick. Castiel held the dead weight of his body and dragged him to bed, made him lie down carefully. Dean lay on his back, sickness all within his throat and stomach. Everything became blurry, his head ached.
He looked up at Cas, who sat beside him on the bed and observed him with keen eyes. Dean managed to give him a tender smile – somehow he felt so assured, so safe, now that Cas was here...
The angel took his left hand cautiously in his, kneading Dean's overheated fingers with his pleasantly cold ones. The other hand Castiel laid on Dean's glowing forehead, and Dean couldn't suppress the content sigh escaping his mouth. He closed his eyes, his lids were too heavy to keep them open. He sensed every nanometre of Cas' soft skin colliding with his hand and head, healing his insides with the slightest touch.
"Sleep, Dean. I'll keep the demons from your sleep. I'll watch over you."
Dean was so out of it, he barely noticed how Castiel's fingertips wandered softly from his forehead to his temple, combing through his short hair fondly. His caresses were as delicate and as cautious as the brief touch of a ghost. He did feel warm lips against his though, chaste and scarce, making him hunger for more.
Dean thought he couldn't breathe anymore, when he felt Castiel's hot breath meeting his mouth; his body trembled when Cas pressed his mouth upon his again, kissing him ever so lovingly and gently that Dean forgot every worry, every plaguing thought. They separated, and Dean smiled, calm now. It took only seconds after this kiss, and Dean was fast asleep.
When he woke up the next morning, Cas was still there, sitting beside him, looking out of the window. The orange and pink rays of the early sun set beautifully on his pale face, and Dean couldn't help observing this tranquil angel by his side, dumbstruck. He felt rested, as if he had slept for days. His heart stumbled forcefully in his chest, when Cas tilted his head and gave him a long, tender gaze. His hands hadn't left their positions, were still resting on Dean's forehead and holding his other hand loosely. Dean felt heat within his chest, he couldn't even be embarrassed about such intimate closeness to Cas. He owed him so much. He wanted to thank him for all he had ever done for him, but he couldn't find fitting words.
So he just grabbed Castiel's hand tighter and smiled.
"Thank you", was all he could say, but Castiel's smile showed him that it was enough.
More than enough.
THE END