On the days when he is tired and doesn't know what else to do, Dean Winchester prays…
While Sam and Bobby pour themselves over the Singer library Dean slips away to the junkyard, a beer in one hand and the other clenched in a defensive fist. He knows that it is pointless, pathetic even, which is why he doesn't begin until he is a safe distance from the house. When all he is surrounded on all sides by walls of carshells he stops and stares at the sky, his lips parted and his eyes innocently wide. It is one of the rare moments when Dean Winchester lets his defenses drop and the scarred, broken man controls all. The angles of his boyish face harden to hard corners, his eyes turn a dulled jade, and the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth dig harshly into his freckled face. He has come a long way from hunting Wendigos and Vampires; he is the Righteous Man, and he is desperate.
"I know you can hear me," he says softly, as if the person he is speaking to stand only feet from him rather than rests on another dimension completely. His eyes search the cloudless sky for a moment before he drops them to the dirt at his feet. "Shit," he drags a hand across his lips with momentary awe, "I'll bet you can hear my damn heartbeat if you wanted to." Again he pauses, head cocked to the side as if waiting for an answer. Nothing. "That's not th… I didn't come out here to mock you. I came…" Why did he come out here? "Sam thinks it's stupid, trying to talk to you. Can't blame him really- he's going to be holding a grudge for a while. But…" Words have never been a strong suit for this Winchester, for any Winchester really. The mere task of forming a sentence becomes increasingly difficult the more that his voice begins to shake with emotion. "He'll come around.
"Sam knows how to bitch like the best of 'em, but he always comes around." Dean lets out a pathetic laugh, raising his beer to his lips and taking a swig. He's not thirsty- he just needs to stop talking before he says something stupid. "I'm not saying… It's not like you're completely forgiven. What you did… What happened to Sam… Let's just say you got some 'splainin to do." He pauses and snorts out another laugh, "You won't get that reference." The wind rattles against car frames in answer, nothing but the wind. Dean hisses a breath through his teeth, leaning against a hunk of metal that had once been someone's car. "What I'm saying is you're not gonna be welcomed back with open arms, alright? I mean, we're probably gonna tear you a new one, uh, but that doesn't mean… We're gonna take you back. It's what families do.
"And we're your family," he adds after a brief pause, the old Dean dropping conviction into the tone. "You might not think we are, but that's bullshit. We're family… I'm your family, alright man?" The wind rattles again and Dean can hear Bobby's windchime pick up the song that it carries. The world is so peaceful, so untouched, yet there is a chunk of it missing. His hand clenches around his beer bottle and he sets his jaw, unsure of what else he can say that he hasn't said before. "I know you're there, Cas."
The words stick in his throat, like they do each time Dean tries to tell how he really feels, but he spits them out all the same, sincerity laced in every syllable. "Come home."
On the days when the souls quiet down and he can hear his grace again, Castiel listens to the Righteous Man beg. And it breaks him each time.
A/N: Just meaningless drabble that came to me the other night. Tell me what you think :)