Author's note: I'm telling you, this freaking hurt to write. And I was listening to these melodramtic, sad songs which made me feel like bawling my eyes out in a corner. I must enjoy emotional pain, that's the only reason to keep torturing myself like this.
I think I will continue on this one. I'm not sure yet. Urgh, decisions, decisions.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, still want to, and I'm not earning a penny for this.
Warnings: Sad Destiel-fiction. Angsty, angsty, angsty. Yeah, I think you got it.
There might be some grammatical- and spelling mistakes in this fiction, I haven't let any native English-speaking person take a look at it before posting, so if you find any incorrect stuff, feel free to tell me.
MAY GOD HAVE MERCY ON YOUR SOUL
Castiel knew every single freckle, every scar and bump on the skin beneath his fingers by heart, but he never grew tired of exploring the hunter's body over and over again. He couldn't get enough of touching the man, could never give him too much of his attention.
He was utterly stunned by the sheer beauty Dean held just laying there on the bed. It astonished him.
Tilting his head a little, Castiel trailed a finger over the lips of the sleeping man, then put a cool hand on his cheek. His eyes took notes of all the little details of Dean's face, restoring it safely into his memory.
He would always cherish this; simply watching over the Winchester for hours. It was Cas' guilty pleasure to witness the otherwise tough and strong man let his guard down to rest; he always looked so young and fragile in his sleep, so delicate.
Castiel's heart fluttered when Dean sighed happily in his sleep, enjoying the touch of his hands and he continued his journey down the relaxed muscles, smooth and gentle.
The dark-haired man wanted to remember every inch of this human until he ceased to exist. He wished to carry memories of this very man in his mind forever and never forget the love, the desire and affection, and all the other emotions Castiel should be incapable of feeling, but still did around Dean.
The angel had fallen very deeply in love with the hunter. It was indeed irrational and it should not have happened, but Cas hadn't been prepared to meet someone like Dean. Such a great man, who held so much care for strangers around him - he was always ready to loose his life for another person.
Dean never failed to fascinate him. He could be so gruffy and harsh, but within him there were honest warmth and compassion for others, and it made him innocent in many perspectives.
He always claimed to be battered and stained, for the experiences he has been through have made him that way, but Castiel knew better. He could see the kind pureness flow through the human, his mangled soul glowing in a lovely white light - it was stunning.
Naturally he wasn't completely perfect, he'd done many mistakes and faults in his life, but the angel could sense the unbroken trust Dean held in the greater good. He was a truly good person, which was rare in this world; it made him special.
Sadly, the hunter had been hurt many times and his soul got beaten, leaving bleeding wounds, although he seldom mentioned it. Still his heart ached more for the people around him and the pain they were going through, not himself.
Castiel believed it was because he never was taught to care for himself as well as for others. As a child, he learned how to protect his little brother from danger, but he never really understood that he too held importance. It was always about someone else - his father, his brother or even unknown people - but it was never about him.
For the angel though, it was only about him. Nothing mattered as much as Dean in his eyes, not even the Lord or his duties towards Heaven; the mortal was of more significance than anything else.
Cas' blue eyes sparkled, suspiciously wet. He knew he needed to leave soon, if only for the safety of Dean, and Sam even. Heaven was looking for him, to punish him for his rebellion, and he put them in danger for every passing day.
But the mere thought of leaving Dean was like a kick to his stomach. He might never feel those silky smooth lips upon his again, never breath in the comforting scent of the hunter while being held in his arms, and it was painfully hard to accept that.
The solider of God sighed through the heavy weight on his chest. This was tearing him apart and he couldn't help himself when the tears started to fall; he was in real misery.
Silent crying caused his whole body to tremble as he rose from his seat on the bed. Castiel had to go now. The longer he stayed with the Winchesters, the harder it was going to be to walk away.
It was hard enough already.
"Hey," Dean spoke up suddenly, his voice sleepy, rubbing his weary eyes with a fist, "What are you doing? Come back. It's cold without you here."
He squinted to see the angel better in the dark, frowning worringly when he noticed the shaking outlines of the man. Was he crying?
"Cas? What's wrong?"
The blonde nearly fell off the mattress in hurry to get to Castiel and throw his arms around him, tugging him into a warm embrace. "Please, don't cry. What's the matter?"
"I have to go, Dean." The response came as a sad whisper.
"What? Where? I can come with you."
The gentle tone worsened Castiel's sobs as he shook his head against the broad, familiar chest, "No, you cannot."
Dean's throat tightened in slight panick, his pulse starting to pick fast, and he pushed the other man away far enough to look him into the eyes, but still hold him, to find some form of answer there.
"What do you mean? Have I done something wrong? I promise, I'll-"
"No! You have been nothing but wonderful, therefor it's very hard for me to leave," the angel interrupted, taking a quivering breath, "and that is why I am crying."
"No, you aren't going anywhere!" Dean protested, "You're staying with me and Sam."
"I must not put you in further danger. They are searching for me, I can sense it."
"I don't care! I'm going to protect you, I swear, they won't get near you."
Castiel heard the desperation in his lover's voice and it cut through him like a knife. Oh, how he wished he could stay. Never had he wished for something so dearly.
"It is impossible, Dean," he said, forcing himself to meet those beautiful green eyes with a serious look, "you're a skilled hunter, but you are not invincible."
"They are warriors of the Lord, the creator of all," Castiel added as he took a step back. "You are just a mere human."
The Winchester didn't want to listen. No, he wasn't allowed to go, not now - not ever. He loved him too damn much, couldn't Castiel see how much he needed him?
"Don't make me lose you too," he whispered, "don't leave me, not you, please - I'll do anything, just say what I can do to make you stay."
He didn't want to imagine a life without his angel. He couldn't say he'd planned their whole future together, but he had assumed Cas would always be there.
The dark-haired man felt something inside of him break into tiny pieces of agony - the begging was too much for him to handle, it felt as if someone was jumping on his heart.
"There.. There is nothing-" he was abruptly cut off by Dean's lips pressing against his.
The sweet taste of the other man always made him weak at the knees, this occasion wasn't an exception, and Cas reached up to hold his face in his hands, craving more.
The pained couple tangled up in each other, needing the comforting closeness of the other as they kissed over and over again, pausing only when their lungs ached for air.
It went on for a while and both trembled from a weird mixture of hurt and lust - it was only when Dean let out a choked sob that they stopped.
Castiel knitted his eyesbrows together in concern, tenderly wiping away a few tears from Dean's cheeks with his thumbs, "Hush, my love. Don't mourn."
"Don't go," the sentence was barely audible.
"I don't want to."
The human leaned down, ghosting his mouth over his lover's, "Then don't."
The warm breath on Cas' skin made him shiver. This was why he could not walk away from there without a second thought. "I must, Dean."
"Will you come back?"
The angel's hesitation said more than words ever could and Dean wanted to fall to his knees and beg for him to stay, or maybe pray to God for mercy upon his beloved, but his body was too heavy of stabbing despair to even move an inch. He was stuck.
"If I survive, I will try to find you again," Cas promised, sorrow twisting his soul into nothing, "I shall never forget."
Dean closed his eyes, swallowing hard, his arms wrapped around his angel with all the force he could muster. He knew the other man could take it.
"Remember, I do love you," His angel whispered and kissed him softly for what may be the last time, before simply disappearing out of sight.
And Dean had never felt so alone.