A/N: Was in a random Hannstiel mood. And watching Bloody Valentine right now. So here's some one-shot drabble, dunno if I'll ever add on to it, just had to get it out of my system. Tom Hanniger is fun to write, haven't nailed him quite yet but I hope to.
End!Verse Hannstiel / Destiel
Title: Fault Lines
What had walked out of that room was not Dean Winchester.
It was Dean Winchester's body, and it still housed his sun scorched soul, but it was not Dean Winchester.
It took Castiel a few months to figure this out, but in his defense, his grace was diminishing and sometimes he would be Dean Winchester.
He figured it out when they were sitting in a dirty motel room in Virginia, watching the world slowly spiral into itself on the evening news. The world hadn't quite caught on yet but they knew. Sam had said yes to Lucifer and Michael had abandoned Dean and found a new vessel, a half brother, Adam. He hadn't been strong enough. The angels had lost, slammed the doors on the gates of Heaven and locked themselves tight to leave the world to burn. Cas hadn't told Dean this yet, that the reason that Micheal was ignoring him screaming himself hoarse at odd hours was because he couldn't, and someone else had paid the price.
So they were watching the world burn, Dean was starting to torture demons, and Tom kissed him on a drunken, dreary night in a dirty motel room in Virginia.
"Dean?" he asked panicked. He was well aware of his own affections for the Winchester but despite the looks he'd sometimes catch Dean giving him, and the way sometimes at night when Cas would mediate he could feel his gaze soften as he pretended not to be watching over him, even if angels didn't sleep, or the way Dean's hands would sometime linger a little longer, a quick caress of the thumb so soft it could've been a dream, on his shoulder.
This was not something Dean Winchester did, even on his most drunken nights, but then again Dean Winchester had not been quite Dean Winchester for quite some time.
"Cas," Dean replied, with a soft amusement crawling out from the back of his tone. There was a shine in his eyes that Cas thought couldn't belong to him. It edges and ate away at the corners of his eyes, winking at him as it circled. It scared Cas, he'd seen it's flashes in the dark light of the moon when Dean found an abandoned warehouse to skin a demon at with a sanctified knife dipped in holy water. He'd stopped caring about the human beings the demons rode around in months ago. And the smile that Sam's face paraded the few times they'd glimpsed him on TV, had made him stop scaring if the demon let the human come out to play, never stopping his methodical flaying.
He knew Dean was beaten and bruised, but he'd refused to believe that he had fractured.
"What are you doing?" Cas asked scooting a little away from Dean on the ratty couch. He put his beer down, it seemed to ease Dean for him to participate in such simple mundane activities, and noted that he'd subconsciously angled himself so that his back was covered.
"What we both want to do," Dean responded, shrugging his shoulders, the movement gliding from one to the other. It was a movement that wasn't natural to him, not in the slightest. That was a stranger. Cas could feel anxiety starting to crowd his stomach.
"Something is wrong," Cas stated, making it a question would've only been a waste. When the basic underlying rule was "everything is always wrong now" it would've been redundant, and he didn't have to ask Dean to see that things were not okay with Dean, within Dean.
Not-Dean's lip twitched and the right edge curled up in a bit of a smile. He shook his head a little, glancing down to the right before lifting his head and tilting it a little to the side, eyes zeroing in to Cas' and holding them there. Cas swallowed. He'd never been a bird before in his time as a multidimensional being, but he imagined this is what a bird felt like when a Viper came its way. Dean had always awed him and he'd respected his strength and taken just how dangerous the Winchester was seriously, but he'd never been afraid before.
"Nothing's wrong, Cas," his name sounded wrong coming out of his mouth. It still carried affection, and caring the same way his name had always felt safe in Dean, but it was wrong. Dean tried to move in closer, lifting his hand to reach over to graze against his face. Cas' own hand snapped up, wrapping strong fingers around his wrist and holding him still, squeezing tightly as a warning.
"There is something wrong," Cas replied, voice thick with concern. "I know you are not intoxicated enough for your behavior to be affected and even if you were this is not any behavior you've ever exhibited, even at your worst."
Instead of frowning or acting confused, Dean grinned a little and gave a playful sigh, gently easing his hand out of Cas' grip as the angel loosened it to let him retreat. He leaned back on the arm of the couch, spreading himself out a little and smiling. It was a very charming smile. "No, I'm not drunk. You're right. Actually pretty sober." Dean reached over to grab his beer and chug it down, letting a bit of it dribble past his lips and down his chin. Cas watched, eyes tracking the little beads and he felt his lips tingle with the want to catch them. The lips that Dean had kissed.
The thought sprang Castiel immediately out of his trance, Dean Winchester had always been a distracting man, to the problem at hand. "You kissed me."
"I did, and I'm also pretty sure before you yanked back you kissed back," Dean said, playing with the neck of the beer bottle.
"Why did you kiss me? Dean, that is not something you would ever do. I am aware of the affection you have for men that you have spent most if not all of your life hiding, you would not so easily break that pattern, and especially not to kiss me."
Dean did frown then, eyes warming with affection. "Don't say that, Cas. I know you want me too, I can see it when we stand close and your eyes flicker down and they stay a little too long and the way you watch me when I move through the room. And hell, I'm pretty sure out of all the people in my life that deserve kisses, the guy that 'raised me from perdition' is at the top of that list."
"I appreciate the sentiment but I can not be convinced that this is not uncharacteristic of you. My grace has not yet diminished to the point where I can't see your soul, I know it is you, and that it is safely contained in your body, and I would notice if you were possessed or some charm or curse had been placed upon you by outside sources. But there is something wrong, Dean. I am concerned."
Dean laughed and let his head dip to on the edge of the back of the couch, cradling it against his bent arm. "Leave it to you to be so clever, of course you are. I don't know what I was thinking trying to slip this past you, I know better. You're amazing."
"Dean?"
"Not Dean."
Cas narrowed his eyes and his body tensed.
"Man, I wish you still had more of your mojo, you could walk around in my head and figure it out real quick. I don't think Dean's gonna be very happy with me, he's gonna be scared shitless of himself. Not just a voice in the back of his head anymore, damn. But you see Cas, I just had to. I couldn't help it. Since the day I was born I haven't been able to get you off my mind and Dean," he laughed, "dumb ass has got himself screwed around so backwards he's just gonna let you go to waste, he's gonna let you burn. I promise I won't let you burn, I'm going to keep you and you'll be mine and just mine and we're gonna do so much stuff together."
"Dean," Cas said and felt something claw it's way through his chest as the man in front of him laughed again and shook his head. Had Dean finally broken? Was he just completely lost? Is this was a melt down looked like for human beings? He'd only ever witnessed a few, and most of them indirectly caused by exposure to angels the last times they'd been to earth, but Cas was almost completely sure this was a break down.
"Not Dean, I told you. I'm Tom."
"To-..." Castiel stopped before the 'm' curled out of his mouth. He squinted and tried to find anything, something of Dean in those eyes, in the process he scooted forward and tried not to pull away when his knee bumped into Dean's curled leg.
"Say it, please," Dean said, leaning forward himself, eyes glowing with excitement, eagerness dancing and cheering underneath his skin. "Say my name."
"Your name is Dean," Cas said slowly, as if talking to a newborn child. He reached his hand forward and pulled Dean's into his own, deciding that it was okay to touch him and that maybe the touch would ground him. "I believe you are suffering a mental break down but it will be okay."
Dean's smile wilted a little and he shook his head, inching closer, bringing their faces together. Cas refused to back down as warm air ghosted over his lips. Concerned as he was and as anxious as the possessive and inky look in Dean's eyes made him, he had to help Dean crawl back from this. "No, no, no," Dean whispered, turning his palm up to take a strong hold of Cas' hand. "My name. Is Tom. He's Dean, I'm Tom. He's somewhere far away right now. Honestly, he's been so far gone and slipping for so long it was easy. It was so easy."
Cas mentally went through his catalog of human illnesses that involved a change in name as a symptom. "Fractured. Your mind... Dean..." A storm of anxious wasps hummed in his stomach, the buzzing become a murmur of panic and fear.
"Got it in one Cas," Tom replied, thrilled with an easy smile. "Good, now say my name Cas. Say it."
Cas frowned and shook his head, "If I had the power to I would send you back to the corners of his mind. If I had the power to I would banish you from existence. Alas, I do not. But I will not strengthen you, I will not give you that power over him." He turned away, tense. He had no direct knowledge or experience with human illness of the mental nature and with his dwindling powers it became harder and harder to pull out relative knowledge in a timely fashion. He made a mental note ask Dean to purchase him a journal, he would have to put to paper as much as he could remember. Cas supposed he could try talking to Dean, pull him out, but for the moment he couldn't continue interacting with this personality. It would only end up in him owning more weight in Dean's mind.
"Hey," Tom snapped, "don't ignore me." He shifted on the couch, angrily moving into Cas' space. Castiel let himself be moved, lest Dean hurt himself trying, but refused to look at him. "Look at me!" Cas let his eyes wander before closing them. He had to get through to Dean.
"Dea-"
"No," Tom bit out, interrupting by placing a warm kiss on his lips. Cas was ashamed to say his lips twitched forward in response to the sensation before he pulled away.
"I won't let you do this to Dean," Cas retorted, pulling away. "You will not abuse his body this way."
"Abuse? Really? Come on Cas," Tom laughed, "I know you're not stupid. He's just not man enough to do this himself. It's not abuse. Not really, and it's my body too."
"No it's not," Cas replied, angry. He locked eyes with him again. "Dean- Dean please."
Tom's bright eyes clouded over with irritation, displeased. "Dean's left the building. Not like he wants to be awake anyway, Sam's an angel condom and the world is going to hell. You know, he's not even that obsessed about the colt, you know that right? Those demons, he's hoping they don't give him an answer. He just wants to hurt and bleed out and die."
"Dean, please come back. Dean."
"Are you listening? 'Cause come on Cas. It's a loosing battle. He's letting everything go to shit. He's just letting you wither away too. When was the last time he asked you about that draining mojo of yours? Or even fuckin' thank you for staying with him, on some ratty ass couch when you could be up in Heaven sippin' margaritas or whatever the hell the angels are doing while Lucifer sets up his soldiers."
"He knows why I stay, I do not require a thank you, and he is not so far gone" Cas replied tersely and then cursed himself. He'd forgotten momentarily to ignore him.
"Isn't he tho'? Come on Cas, why do you think I'm here? Who do you think he's had a cheering squad in the back of his head whenever he pours that holy salt water down some poor girls throat demanding to know what the hell happened to the Colt. Where do you think I come from? Dean is me, I'm Dean. I'm all those parts of him he doesn't have the balls to look himself in the face for. I've been around since Hell, always been in here, sitting, waiting in the back behind his eyes. I gotta say, parading around is more fun."
"Dean."
"Cas, Cas. Hey, look. Look at me. Not him, me. He's gonna be gone for awhile, angel. Okay? This isn't my first rodeo, I've been slipping in and out for weeks, maybe even months now. At the gas station, grabbing a pack of peanuts, grabbing ten or twelve seconds of television time, a moment here and there on the road when Dean's zoned on the highway. And he hasn't noticed one, he's so out of his own head he hasn't even noticed all the lost time he's starting to accumulate, 'cause everything's lost time. I'm better, I'll at least take care of this body instead of letting it rot to hell."
"Dean, please," Cas begged, staring into the steadily darkening green eyes. Logically he understood that the physical pigments could possibly not be changing, but the rage and bitterness crawling out of those eyes made them murky. And every time he said Dean's name, they would get darker, sootier, and there was a blood lust that peeked through that he'd seen on Dean's face when he chased monsters. "Dean-"
"It's TOM." Caught off guard Cas found himself lying down on the couch, Dean crouched over him legs on both sides of his waist, and a hand around his throat, squeezing as he came in close, his tongue skimming the shell of Cas' ear. It curled around the lobe as he muttered, "It's Tom. Cas. And your mine."
"You can't hurt me," Cas replied evenly as Dean's hand attempted to squeeze tighter and tighter on his throat. While he was diminishing, he certainly wasn't far gone enough for a human to be able to do physical harm to him as such. Admitted if someone lanced a pole through him it would take time to heal, but he would recover. "And you can't have this."
"Yes I can, I can," Tom started, moving so that he was looking directly into Cas' face, resting all of his weight on his hand smiling when suddenly his face froze. His hand shook a little and anger lanced through his eyes. And then it was gone. It was as if someone had pulled the plug in the tub and all that darkness sank away. Cas laid still as he watched Tom fade to whatever corner of Dean's mind he occupied and a soft green emerge. He waited as Dean blinked, and looked down, eyes wide with panic and fear. Dean's hands retracted quickly after a few moments of hesitation, very much as if he'd placed his palms on something hot and not noticed it was burning his skin until it had left blisters.
"Cas, what the hell, what the fuck am I-" he glanced down to where there was a small erection waiting patiently for what Tom started to continue. He also noticed that he was straddling Cas' lap. He rolled back hands starting to tremble a little. "What the hell, Cas. I can't-"
Castiel sat up patiently and scooted away to give Dean space. "Dean," the relief in his voice saturated the room in it. "You are yourself again."
Dean looked up, rattled. "What?"
Cas ran a hand gently around his throat, the bruises disappearing as his fingers slid over them. "I believe you should take a shower, and while I usually do not see the good in damaging your liver, a liquor drink, and sleep. And tomorrow, Dean," Cas paused on the name for emphasis. "Tomorrow ask me about Tom."
A\N: Kinda wish it were longer but what can you do, the muse stops when the muse stops.