A.N. Okay guys, this is my first EVER Destiel fanfiction here! Please be gentle with me, i've never wrote for the Supernatural fandom or this pairing before, so please leave con-crit, not flames! /
"I'll be back in a minute okay Cas?"
The man exited the black 1967 Chevy Impala and turned to stare at his accompanying passenger with earthly green coloured eyes.
"Might be best if I go get the shopping this time? Think Sammy would like to eat some proper food for once, since you can't cook porn mags." he said to the person beside him, with a slight amusement etched on his face, the corners of his mouth twitching in a suppressed smile.
Castiel looked to Dean from the passenger side of the Impala, and nodded in agreement.
It was true. He was not, in Sam's words, an 'efficient shopper'. All his efforts usually amounted to was half a dozen cracked eggs, some strange, foreign produce that no human 'in their right mind' ever bought, and a handful of Busty Asian Beauties magazines, which were sometimes more than one of the same issue.
And that was on the better days where he was not scaring the other shoppers with his intimidating voice, and aggressive demands of pie for Dean. After all, on no condition was he to forget the pie.
But he did try his best for the Winchesters, helping them the best he could when they were too busy to get things themselves, or resting after a long hunt.
That did mean trying his hand at shopping once in a while.
Not that Castiel himself was never busy, but there had been an unusually long period of calm in both Heaven and Earth, meaning he lived with the brothers in their temporary home now, only returning to Heaven when he was called upon.
That being, never very often.
His siblings seemed to think they were loosing him to the brothers, that he was getting too close and far too attached. He had assured them it was not the case, just a by-product of being around humans.
Nevertheless, he did find it quite enjoyable living with the two brothers.
He enjoyed hunting with the brothers, helping them where they would have taken twice as long in the past, and hearing their praise for doing so.
He enjoyed the late nights in the back of the impala looking out at the stars, the same stars he had seen the birth of.
He was fond of the way Dean would play his tapes and hum softly along to them, risking a protective glance now and then to his brother who was dosing in the passenger seat. How he would timidly ask questions about Castiel's life, what he had seen and what was it like, things he would never do had Sam been awake.
"So, uh... Cas, I was reading a book and I was just wondering... What type of Angel are you? Cause, man, there's a lot of types."
He had asked one night after clearing out a nest of vampires. Castiel had frowned slightly, having never expecting a question like that from Dean.
"Which type do you think I am?" He asked, curious.
"I dunno man, you're pretty bad-ass, you could be an Archangel for all I know." Dean cleared his throat awkwardly at the compliment and averted his eyes.
Castiel has simply chuckled, looking out to the stars once more.
"I am a Seraphim." he concluded.
Dean nodded, smiling slightly. He knew himself that Cas had to be one of the most powerful classes.
"It said in something in the books about 'Angels that stand in the direct presence of God'. But you said you've never seen God, right?"
Dean had searched him questioningly, waiting for him to elaborate.
"Yes, it is true. A Seraph's position is to circle Our Lord in protection and unyielding love. But I have not done so, as God was missing when my position was altered."
"And your wings?"
"I have six wings, using one pair to fly, another pair to cover my eyes as a token of humility, and the last pair to cover my feet as a token of respect."
Dean didn't notice the slight lowering in the Angel's voice as the topic of his wings came up.
"An Angel's wings are fierce, but also the most protected part of all. They are the point of pride for all Angels, and are used dually in battle, but also when attracting a mate."
Dean's eyes had widened at the mention of taking a mate. Obviously, that part was not in the book.
"If an Angel's wings are considered undesirable, they will never be a worthy mate."
Dean was left silently cursing as Castiel left the back seat abruptly.
On the times they weren't hunting, Sam was almost always doing research on his laptop, or he would go out for runs or trips to the nearest bar.
So it was normally just himself and Dean left to entertain themselves. Dean's idea of entertainment, however, was generally a night filled with sharing beers whilst observing attractive women dancing with barely any clothing on.
This night in particular, there were multiple women, appearing to represent some kind of sexual version of stereotypical Angels.
The one closest to Dean wore a sparkling silver corset with a light blue lace trim lining the bust, and a short blue tutu. She had light blue opaque knee-height socks, and a small pair of wings with fluffy silver feathers and glitter, with a matching silver halo. Up close she had piercing blue eyes, and black, curly locks that bounced as she danced.
"These wings are entirely impractical." He had said to Dean, confusion in his voice and expression.
"My wings are much larger in size. These would not be capable of flight."
Dean had appeared particularly uncomfortable at the display, and suggested they return surprisingly early, at around eight PM.
Dean had then announced he needed to turn in early and promptly headed to bed.
He awoke no more than two hours later, from a nightmare.
Of course, Dean never told him that, nor would he, but Castiel did not think it was a normal thing for humans to toss and turn and mutter quietly in fear while they slept.
Dean had asked him many times not to listen to or watch him sleeping, however, it was turning out to be a somewhat difficult task. He was a much louder sleeper than Sam, and the dreams Dean experienced were never pleasant.
They we're sometimes about failing his Dad, somehow proving to him that he was unreliable, worthless, the perfect soldier but no better. Always the second best, never quite good enough.
Other times about loosing Sam. Failing to protect him, to save his little brother Sammy from the danger he felt he was always putting him in.
More recently, and rather surprising to Castiel, Dean would dream of him too. The elder hunter's fear of loosing the brooding angel he had unintentionally grown to care for was overwhelming in those dreams, and so was the feeling of abandonment and worry that consumed him when Castiel was absent. He felt responsible for Castiel, felt the guilt eat away at him because of all the Angel had gave up for them.
Castiel wanted to ask Dean about the dreams, assure Dean that choosing him was the best decision he felt he had ever made, and he was a more than worthy reason for angles to fall, much to the hunters predictable embarrassment, discomfort and his 'no chick flick moments' rule.
But he left Dean to his preferred method of feeling guilty over things that were not his fault, and dealing with it himself.
Because, in the end, Castiel would always give Dean what he wanted. No matter his own feelings.
The hunter had announced when he awoke that he was hungry, only to angrily discover no food had been purchased in the last couple of days.
Cussing and blasphemy had ensued, with Dean grumbling to Cas about him going to jump in a quick shower and get dressed, and mumbled something about 'his highness' coming with him as they hadn't been out properly for a while.
"I'll leave the radio on for you buddy, so you don't get bored." he said, leaning over and pressing one of the large buttons he had made the angel promise not to touch.
"Not that you would," he added absently, "but still."
"Thank you, Dean" he nodded in his direction, beginning to listen to the radio DJ announce the winners of some sort of competition to win tickets to something.
"'S fine." Dean placed his hands in the pockets of his brown leather jacket, turned on his heel, and marched towards the large grocery store.
Castiel tuned into the radio, listening intently. It was always pleasing to have an opportunity to learn more about humans and their norms. Through Dean's gruff but caring guidance, he was getting a considerable amount better at handling social situations and normal human protocols.
"Megan Smith has sent in a request for 'Heaven Is A Place On Earth', by Belinda Carlisle! I'll get that on for you right away!" the enthusiastic voice of the DJ was transmitted through the speakers.
Castiel's eyebrows raised at the mention of the song title. It was perplexing, to say the least. Heaven did not exist on Earth...
The song was definitely not something Dean had let him listen to on the long country drives in the Impala.
The Angel's confusion was intensified by the happy, upbeat tune starting, accompanied by the lyrics;
Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?
Ooh heaven is a place on earth
They say in heaven love comes first
We'll make heaven a place on earth
Ooh heaven is a place on earth
This was nothing like AC-DC or Metallica, things considered 'good, real music'.
He decided that this woman, this singer, was extremely misinformed about his now part-time residence.
Castiel was incredulous.
Why in the Lords name would she possibly want to make heaven a part of the Earth? It could destroy them both simultaneously.
When you walk into the room
You pull me close and we start to move
And we're spinning with the stars above
And you lift me up in a wave of love...
There was nothing particularly confusing about the next lines. They talked of love, an unusual notion to the angel, as it was an entirely human emotion, and embracing one another.
Although, from people describing love to him, which Sam had, after Castiel had asked him multiple times (he would have asked Dean however, it appeared he was not the best one for answering Castiel's inquiries), it was not a physical wave capable of lifting someone.
Sam had told him that love felt like butterflies in his chest whenever that special person was near, and the feeling of wanting to be near them or close to them all the time. The urge to protect them and everything they cared about. Love was sharing an extremely powerful bond with someone, so powerful you would risk anything, do anything, to help or save them.
Sam had looked at him in such a way, his eyebrows raised in expectation, that Castiel thought he might have been trying to tell him something else.
He had simply frowned in confusion and left Sam in the library.
He was unsure what to make of this couple spinning with distant stars. Had he been wrong in thinking humans could not withstand the temperature of the stars?
Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?
Ooh heaven is a place on earth
They say in heaven love comes first
We'll make heaven a place on earth
Ooh heaven is a place on earth
The strange lines were repeated, doing nothing to help Castiel's understanding of the statements made.
Angels could not feel love in Heaven. The only way for an Angel to feel love of any romantic kind, as he guessed that was the kind the song was referring to, would be to seek it elsewhere.
To fall.
Pleasing, following and fighting for their Father had always been the first and foremost for his existence in heaven.
When I feel alone
I reach for you
And you bring me home
When I'm lost at sea
I hear your voice
And it carries me
This was strange indeed. Could he have possibly underestimated the power of the human voice, also? He was unaware it had the power to move another and place them elsewhere.
Perhaps only some humans were capable of it? As he was fairly certain neither Dean nor Sam possessed this ability.
In this world we're just beginning
To understand the miracle of living
Baby I was afraid before
But I'm not afraid anymore
Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?
Ooh heaven is a place on earth
They say in heaven love comes first
We'll make heaven a place on earth
Ooh heaven is a place on earth
He wondered who had said love was the most prominent thing in Heaven. Was it the same fool who had speculated that Heaven was in the clouds, and the sole purpose of the angels was to be guardians of humanity?
Angels are the warriors of God. They are fierce opponents in battle and can out-match almost any creature, supernatural or ordinary. Their creation was to defend their Father, His home, and all His creations, not just humanity. If that meant the lives of innocents were lost, then it was a necessary sacrifice.
Castiel pondered this for around fifteen minutes, before deciding he would ask Dean upon his local news had started, and the angel was grateful for the break from confusing human emotions and norms.
Dean returned promptly, his arms filled with numerous bags containing things that looked more edible than what Castiel would have produced on his own. He put the plastic bags in the back of the car, walking around to get into the drivers seat.
"Hey Cas." He grunted, acknowledging him with a small nod.
"Hello Dean" the angel replied, returning his nod politely.
"Dean?" he questioned eventually, when they were about ten minutes into the approximated forty-five minute long journey home.
The radio had been switched off, as Dean was both hungry and tired, with an accompanied headache, a combination the angel knew from experience, left him irritable and prone to snapping, so he preferred silence.
Usually, given Deans current mood, Castiel would have waited until they returned home, and Dean was rested and fed, however, he felt his questions were in dire need of answers.
"How powerful is the human voice?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing, still as confused as he had been when he first heard the song.
Dean eyed him curiously from his seat behind the wheel.
"What kinda question is that Cas? You're an Angel, can't you figure it out?"
"I have had an... Undermining of my knowledge of the human race." he admitted quietly.
"Wha-? Jesus Cas, you didn't talk to some poor bastard in the parking lot, did you?" He glanced at him to check his reaction. He frowned.
"No Dean." he shook his head softly, choosing to ignore Dean's usual blasphemy.
"But I believe a woman named Belinda Carlisle may be responsible. She has stated that humans are able to carry each other through voice alone, are able to rotate with stars, and that Heaven is a place on Earth."
Castiel had barely got through his sentence when Dean burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"Dude!" he said in amongst gasps for air and a small, light tear falling from his eyes from laughing too hard.
"She's a singer, you know that right?" He grinned, his jaw and stomach hurting from his hysterics.
"I am aware of the term, yes."
He sighed, shaking the last of the laughter away.
What was it with this angel always reducing him to hysterics?
Whether it was reminding prostitutes right before sex that their father was a deadbeat, the way sarcasm, humour, and digs slipped completely over his head, or just his general clueless questions about humanity and Earth.
"Dean..." Cas looked at him earnestly. His face was suddenly very close to Dean's, so he could smell the faint scent of his skin, feel the angel breathing on his cheek.
"Why do humans wish love to be the most prominent thing in Heaven?"
Dean shuddered at the feel of Castiel's breath tickling the hairs on his neck, and inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring.
"I dunno Cas" he looked at him briefly, and stared into his pale blue eyes, before deciding the road was more important.
"Everybody likes to think of Heaven as a nice cloudy, pearly white place, full of love and happiness. They like thinking that you have a halo and you wear pretty much nothing except a silky towel-thing, that you do nothing except play the harp all day, sitting on the clouds watching humanity, fluttering your nice, soft, fluffy white wings." he scoffed slightly, wondering idly what Cas's wings actually look like.
"While I do find the sound of a harp pleasing, I do not play any musical instrument." he was being deadly serious, making Dean want to laugh again.
"My wings have feathers, so they are usually soft. Although 'nice' would be a description somewhat disputed among my peers." Castiel frowned, flexing his shoulders and no doubt his hidden wings.
"Cas-?"
"But you never answered my question." he interrupted hastily, seeming to avoid the anticipated question about his wings.
They seemed like a sensitive subject, and Dean had never seen Castiel's face look so worried before.
Carefully hidden, of course, but the light panic in his usual monotonous voice was evident, and he could hear the nervous rustling of feathers behind him.
Dean decided not to push the issue, especially as Cas was so close he could probably knock his head right through the window of the Impala if he upset him.
"People like the idea of being in love, I guess. Like to think having someone to go home to at the end of a hard days work is the best feeling in the world." he answered honestly.
The angel seemed to deem the answer good enough, and relaxed back into the seat of Dean's baby.
He silently hoped he had gotten away without any further discussions of love because, hell, Sammy had already lectured him enough before Cas started living with them.
'Trust you Dean. The one person you fall head over heels in love with, and it's a freakin' angel!'
Dean frowned at the memory of Sammy's words, his face darkening slightly at the notion.
He was not in love with the damned angel!Cas was- Cas was a friend.
Someone who was always there for him when he needed it, someone who somehow knew exactly what to say to make him laugh or smile. Someone who just always seemed to know what was up, without even having opened his mouth. Someone who would always protect him, even if the cost was his own life.
No. He was not in love.
"But you do not believe that." the angel beside him commented, bringing him back to the present.
Curse this damned angel and his ability to see right through him.
"I'm not in-!" he began, before realising Cas was talking about his statement, not what Sam had said.
"Uhh, well... Theres no point in it." He added hastily.
"What's the matter?" he said, mirroring the first time they met, leaning forward in his seat to catch his eye, tilting his head and raising his furrowed eyebrows endearingly. "You don't think you deserve to be loved?"
Dean drew in a breath and held it, switching the tape on as loud as it would go, headache be damned, letting Led Zeppelin's 'Traveling Riverside Blues' drown out everything else from his mind.
The temporary home was looming into view, and they were almost there. Dean didn't answer for a long time, not until the car was parked outside in the driveway.
He turned the volume down, before switching it fully off.
He sat in silence for a further five minutes, feeling Castiel's eyes resting on him.
"They don't deserve to go through that. What I would put them through, I mean. Cas, I'm broken. And my soul is damaged beyond even your ability to fix. I'm no good for anybody. I ain't perfect, and I'm just gonna cause them more hurt."
He looked Castiel dead in the eye, hazel-green meeting a shining azure, before exiting the car to receive the groceries.
Castiel was gone when he looked up. The hunter guessed he was probably poofed back in Dean's room, so the lazy son-of-a-bitch didn't need to help put away the shopping.
Maybe it was for the best.
Dean had answered feathery-asses questions as honestly as he could, so maybe this time Cas owed him a little clarity of his own.
Thank you so much for reading till the end and giving me a chance! :D Please leave a review at the end to let me know what you lovely people think :)
-Gem x