What keeps you going?
After a completely shitty day, Dean Winchester settled back in his small motel room. He and Sam had vanquished the Demon, all right, but only with Sam's psychic powers. They'd had a massive row about it afterwards. His brother didn't understand what the problem was with using something that could actually give them an advantage.
But Dean was firm in his decision. No powers praised by yellow-eyes could be good. And that was it. No explanations, no excuses, just the knowledge that nothing good came from happy demons. Or angry demons. Or any demons at all.
Sam had left. Dean couldn't ask him to stay. Not after all of this. He'd only asked for one thing, dammit. No using these powers.
Oh, and they'd also lost the demon-killing knife. Hell of a day.
He was planning on drinking until he forgot this day, this week, this year, or maybe this life. Drink until the problems were forgotten. Until Sammy was forgotten. It was too much. All too fucking much to deal with.
It was when Dean was too drunk to remember last Thursday that Cas showed up.
"Dean." said a deep voice near his right ear.
"Ah! Hey, um, I was, uh, wonderin' when you'd show- show-, pop by." stammered Dean in surprise, inching to the left of the couch he sat in.
"We need to talk about what happened today."
"I don't 'member what happn' today. 'Ssss kinda the point. My personal space Cas. Damn. I wish you'd be called Case. Then you'd beeee... personal space Case. Sounds better. Call you Space Case. Damn, I wish I had Space Case... Cake now."
"Dean. Are you drunk?"
"Yessssir. Drunk as a... as a... very drunk... thing."
"You can't ignore the world, Dean. You have a responsibility to Heaven. To me. And what happened today... Can not happen again. You must stop Sam from using those demonic powers."
"Dammit Cas!"
A spark of rage made Dean stand up to make a point. And a dizziness and unstability in his head made him sit down again quickly.
"Damn, Cas, I was trying not to... think of that."
"I could clear your brain easily and force you to explain yourself to me." Castiel said, grabbing Dean's chin with his hand and forcing the man to look in his eyes. "But I've noticed you're more honest in this state. So talk. Tell me what's going wrong."
"I don't wanna talk anymore, Cas." Dean said before clamping his hand over his mouth and running over to the bathroom to throw up some of the booze.
Castiel followed to the bathroom and observed the human with slight disgust.
"Why do you drink if this is what it does to you?" the angel asked.
"For the pros. If you look at... pros and cons, puking is a hell of a lot better than the ... thinking."
"Dean, come back to the couch. Settle down a bit. We have to talk."
Slowly and shakily, the hunter managef the way back. They sat down on the small brown couch, Dean pouring himself (and the floor, while he's at it) a glass of water.
"I understand that it's not easy to convince Sam. But you must succeed in this. Heaven is adamant about it."
"We don't have der knife 'nemore Cas."
"Then find it again. But don't let Sam use this as an excuse. Even trap the demons and use exorcisms instead. Use holy water, crosses, … The knife is not the only weapon. Find out about how you can kill demons. Find better sources than you had. Do not give up."
" 'Mnot giving up. Taking a break tonight. Caught demon, 'fterall."
"Fine. But tomorrow you need to find Sam and start fighting again. Solve the problems that are in front of you."
" 's okay. You angel bastids dunneed to worry. I always fight."
"I know you do, Dean. You're a righteous man."
" 'S right."
And with that, Dean fell asleep.
The next morning wasn't Hell. But it came close.
His neck hurt. His back hurt. The cold air was painful against his throat. He had the sniffles. His head felt as if tiny vicious ants were chewing on his brain and optical nerves. And all of his limbs were stiff from the strange position he slept in.
He went to the bathroom to get some of the illness to flush down the sink when he brushed his teeth and removed the slime sticking to his rooftop and mouth corners.
Five minutes later, nothing was better. He couldn't get back to sleep and was pretty useless in this condition. He sat down on the cold floor, too tired to get a blanket. Rubbed the bridge of his nose. Tried to focus and failed.
Then, he gave up and started praying to Castiel.
"Look, uh, Cas," Dean's voiced scratched. "I don't really know what to say, but I'd appreciate it if you could come here. If you have the time, I mean."
"I'm here."
"AH! Oh God, my throat, aauuugh... Don't scare me like that."
"You called, why are you surprised at my presence?"
"Let's not open that can of worms." Dean ignored the puzzled look the angel sent him.
"Why did you call? And why are you sitting on the foor?"
"That's what I called about. I remember that you gave me some pep-talk yesterday so I figured you'd be pissed if I skipped the whole responsibility thing today cause I can't see straight or cough without coughing part of my lungs out."
Castiel sighed and sat down next to Dean. He put his finger to the man's forehead and made the hangover and the flu disappear. He ignored the human's startled and pleasant reaction and looked to the side.
"You don't need to be afraid of me, Dean. I do want to help you, as long as it doesn't interfere with my duties. We- I don't want you to be alone in this."
"Thanks, Cas." Dean sighed contentedly. "It just feels like the universe is out to get me sometimes."
Cas looked back at Dean.
"Dean. It isn't easy what we ask of you. But we do believe you capable of it. I know you can succeed. I felt it the first time I built you up again,when I raised you from perdition. You are a righteous man, down to your very foundations. You're not a bad person, and small sins like cheeseburgers, beer and casual sex don't matter to the lord. Not when the sins people commit are far worse."
The angel placed a hand on the side of the man's neck, his thumb stroking the stubble of his jaw. His other hand instinctively slipped itself under Dean's shirt sleeve to fit over his mark.
"You give me a hope that I'd almost lost. Now I feel that humanity can turn out right despite everything that's wrong with it. If you exist, then it must be possible that humans become good by themselves or maybe with a small push. It means that it's not their natural condition to be hypocritical, selfish, greedy, jealous or malicious."
"Cas, you can't say these things to me. The things I've done..." Dean looked down, away from those piercing blue eyes.
"You're not guilty of any mistakes."
Castiel moved closer to the hunter, letting his head rest against Dean's cheek, his breath warming the man's shoulder.
"You only made one mistake, Dean. And it's been a long time since I've forgiven you for it. I don't reproach you anything anymore." the angel whispered in Dean's ear.
Dean wrapped his arms around the angel, gripped him tight and started sobbing into his shoulder. He couldn't find words to thank Cas for lightening the burden on his shoulders and couldn't bring himself to voice the disbelief he felt, because it would feel like insulting him. Voiceless, he cried and cried, until the emotions were drained from his body and all he could feel was the soft love and forgiveness of the angel. He wanted to drown himself in it and forget. The urge to forget everything was there, always. Ever since he came back.
But he had to fix things in the world. Fix Sammy. Prevent the world from ending. Possibly while avoiding death.
He felt a bit more up to it now. Cas believed in him. Told him it wasn't his fault. It's silly that only one angel, especially one he'd been angry at so often before, made such a difference to him, but it did. It made him feel like maybe there really was a point.
He let go of the angel.
"I have to go find Sammy." he said.
"Yes, you do. And prevent him from using his powers."
Cas removed his arms from where they were holding Dean. Then he placed his hands on the man's throat, and tilted it to the side. He placed a small kiss right under his ear. And another, more pressed, lower on his throat. And a few passionate kisses even further. He could hear Dean gasp. He ended the trail of kisses when he reached the left collarbone. He ran his tongue over the flesh and softly bit the underlying bone. And stopped.
He pulled himself away from the hunter. Looked him in the eyes.
"Don't give up, Dean." said the angel.
And he disappeared with a flutter of wings.