Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own anything any one of you recognize, but I'd probably still write fanfiction if I did and slip it in episodes every now and then...you know, please the masses. XD
A/N: Hi! This is my first ever Supernatural fic so I'd appreciate kind words/criticism. I suppose you can place this wherever you would like within the series, just obviously beyond season 3. I wrote it in like ten minutes, literally whilst listening to the song it's named after from the freaking movie and kudos to you if you figure it out. I can't stand the film myself, but this is what came of it. Also, feel free to tell me if I should adventure more into this fandom as a writer or continue on as a mere reader. :)
I believe I took care of all mishaps, feel free to point 'em out to me (I'm a Beta so I feel like a fool when I have 'em myself!). XD
He was glad Sam and Bobby were gone from the house—though why Bobby owned this movie Dean didn't want to know. He had promised Cas he could pick out the next movie and he chose this one.
He knew what was coming the moment Cage's character made his choice; he hoped the stinging in his eyes remained at bay and didn't develop into full on tears—at least until he was alone.
He spared a glance at Cas and held back the grin that fought to surface. The angel looked deep in thought, confused, hurt, relieved, anxious, and happy all at once. Dean will never admit aloud that Cas' reactions to movies are a few of his favorite things.
His chest tightened a little at the soft gasp that emitted from his angel once the credits started rolling. The tightening clenched into a painful pinch when Cas' pain-filled eyes met his.
He always drowns in those blue, blue orbs that pierce through to his very core—he's certain that's what they're doing now. Can they see that in some twisted way that move was them?
"Dean?"
"Yeah, Cas?"
A warm hand found its way to Dean's shin where it lay across the couch. Blue still locked with green—a tongue wets a set of lips.
"You know that if I could, I would give it all up for you, right? You know why I don't?"
That same warm hand now sits above the imprint on Dean's arm—he knows. He knows too well how many times they've died for the other—call it for Sammy, for Bobby, for the world, anything else you want, but it's always been for each other.
"Yeah, Cas, I know."