Dean and Death

by Smokey-Loki

Castiel asks Dean how he would want to die, if he could choose. Maybe it's the afterglow, maybe it's the miasma, or maybe it's just because Dean was almost asleep and didn't have his filters back up in time to answer. Either way, Castiel is stunned by Dean's answer. (Destiel Fluffy. Fluffy fluff is fluffy!)

"Dean?" Cas spoke softly in the dark. Dean was sprawled out diagonally on the Angel's chest. He grunted in acknowledgment. "How do you want to die?" Castiel had his hand resting on Dean's back, enjoying the feel of him breathing. Dean, however, stopped breathing for a moment and picked his head up to look at Cas.

"Isnt that a bit loaded for pillow talk, feathers?" Dean raised his eyebrows and squinted a bit. Castiel shrugged, a bad habit he picked up from Sam.

"I was simply thinking about all the danger you face. Surely you must have considered how you would want to die, if you could choose." Cas felt a cringe in his heart at even the suggestion that Dean would inevitably die, but he was very curious about what Dean would say. And it was a fair question to pose to someone who faces death nearly every day.

"Sure as hell wouldn't wanna die by Hellhound again." Dean grumbled, dropping his head back onto Cas's midsection. Then he was quiet for a while. And that while stretched into a long time. Castiel had actually begun to think that Dean had fallen asleep, but then he inhaled really deeply and let it out with a sigh.

"I suppose... if I had to die again," Dean paused. " Again, again, again, again." He chuckled a little. Not the 'Oh-thats-funny' kind, but the 'This-is-so-fucked-up' kind.

"If I had to die again," Dean restarted, turning to lock his eyes on Castiel's. "I would want you to do it."

Castiel felt his blood stop. Or run cold. Or freeze solid. Maybe all of them.

"What?" That one gruff, gravely word was all he could manage, being filled to the brim with horrifying thoughts. Did Dean think he would betray him? Thoughts of violently killing Dean burst through his mind and the Angel felt sick.

"I just mean... I trust you man. I trust you with my heart, with my life, and with my soul." Dean Spoke kind of slowly. "If I had to die, I cant think of any other way I'd want to go than looking into your eyes, Castiel." Dean locked his eye on Cas's the entire time. "No go to bed you fucking pigeon." Dean slammed his head back onto Cas's stomach, effectively ending the conversation.

The Angel twitched at the sound of his full name on Dean's lips, surprised because Dean practically always used the nickname. And after a confession like that... Castiel was not sure what he felt, but he wanted to scoop up the hunter and hold him tight. Burry his face in the crook of Dean's neck, grip his shoulders and back tight, and just be with him.

And that is exactly what Castiel, Angel of the Righteous Man, did.