AN: I don't have a clue where this came from, but I'm satisified with it. Set mid-season 5, so Chuck's just being Chuck, not GodChuck... although I suppose Chuck being Chuck is Chuck being God... Now I'm confused. Point is, this is obviously before the big Season finale Chuck-is-totally-God shocker... Just read it before I have time to babble more.
Castiel was very confused. Someone was calling for him, and it wasn't either Winchester, or even Bobby. But the voice was familiar…
He answered the call, appearing in a house that took him only a moment to place. He'd died in this house once. It was the home of Chuck Shirley, prophet of the Lord.
"Good you came. I kinda thought you wouldn't, even though I wrote that you did…" Chuck said, coming around the corner looking potentially more disheveled than usual. "I just finished a new chapter," he said, explaining his appearance.
"You called me?" Castiel asked politely, unsure why Chuck wanted to see him.
"Yeah. I've wanted to talk to you about this for a while but, y'know. Awkward," the prophet said with a shrug.
"About what?"
Chuck plopped himself down in his armchair and motioned for Castiel to sit on the couch. The angel took in the ratty piece of furniture before perching on the edge of it.
"Your feelings for Dean," Chuck said simply.
Castiel stiffened, a near impossible feat considering the fact that he hadn't exactly been slouching. "Feelings?" he asked, playing dumb.
"The fact that you're in love with him. Don't play dumb, remember, I wrote this scene, I have tons of synonyms to describe the panic you're feeling right now. But relax, ok? I didn't call you hear just to make you uncomfortable."
Just being told to relax didn't make it happen. Castiel had feared this, he'd known that Chuck knew everything but he'd still held this hope that maybe it was somehow under the prophets radar.
"Why do you wish to talk to me about this. You already know everything," he finally managed to say.
Chuck smiled, eyes crinkling a little in the corners in a way that reminded Castiel of Dean, but he quickly pushed that thought from his mind.
"You're right, I do already know everything. But you don't," Chuck said softly. Castiel didn't respond, just looked at the prophet with questioning eyes. "He loves you too."
Castiel sat back, lips parted slightly in surprise. "That is not possible."
Chuck laughed. "Trust me, it is. If I have to live through one more angel-themed wet dream I think I may kill myself."
"How long?" Castiel demanded.
Chuck shrugged. "Hard to tell. He didn't really realize it at first, so I didn't either. But I'd say since Lazarus Rising."
"Lazarus Rising?"
"Oh yeah, sorry. That's what I named the book where you pulled Dean out of hell and the two of you met in that abandoned barn. But seriously, he's head over heels for you."
"Why are you telling me this? Even if Dean returns my feelings he will never act on them. I am in a male shape," Castiel said, tiny shred of hope leaving him at this realization.
"I wasn't going to tell you, because I knew that. But Dean's had a while to deal with that, it's been about a year and half, you know. I called you here because he's finally decided that it doesn't matter. He loves you for who you are, not who you're in. Although, and this completely grosses me out to say, the whole man thing has never stopped his fantasies. Seriously, it's gross. You should go to him, Cas. But ease into things. Even if he's accepted it it's still new territory."
Castiel rose and Chuck followed suit. "Thank you Chuck."
"No big deal, I'm tired of writing Dean's angst anyway. But hey, can you do me a favor?" Castiel nodded. "Can you cut out some of that staring crap the two of you do? I'm running out of synonyms for intense."
"I'll do my best," Castiel said, and then he was gone in a flurry of feathers and one unruly trench coat.