Theosis
By KaliShu
Major props to How Like a Winter and KuryakinGirl for betaing for a total stranger. Thank you both so much!
Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me and I make no profit from this story.
"Do you remember this?"
Bodies press up around them, slick and hot, drenched in lust, need, want, life.
Dean is distinctly uncomfortable. But he holds Castiel's gaze as the Angel of the Lord holds his, standing still, not moving against the gyration of the bodies even as Dean awkwardly moves with them, thinking the whole time about Lisa and Ben and what once upon a time was between him and Cas. But not Cas anymore, no. Castiel has returned, and he is once again the angel dick that Dean remembers from their early days.
"I'm afraid that my human experience has been forgotten." Castiel says, observing the girl gyrating against him as one might observe an ant in a jar. He leans towards Dean and yells into his ear to be heard above the music. "Am I expected to reciprocate with her?"
Dean isn't quite sure how to answer that, so he moves instead, grinding against the body pressed up against his for the first time this evening. Castiel seems to take that as an affirmative, and he too tries to move himself in a pantomime of Dean. The girl behind him seems to go into an epilepsy, moaning loudly before her eyes roll back in her head and she drops to the floor.
"Shit, oh shit Cas," Dean says, lunging forward to catch the poor girl. "What did you do to her?"
Castiel blinks at him, expression innocent. "I thought I was supposed to reciprocate. I sensed her lust and returned it in kind."
The girl's eyes flutter and she moans again, moving provocatively against the floor as her eyes open, gazing up into Dean's.
"Do it again," she moans, licking lush lips.
"No, absolutely not," Dean says, shooting Castiel a glare.
The crowd gradually stops moving around them as they notice what has happened, forming an eye of calm around the fallen girl. A man in a black T-shirt that reads "security" pushes his way through the crowd, taking in the situation in a heartbeat. Dean gladly relinquishes the girl to his care, shouting that she just fell over as they were dancing. The girl's pupils are dilated enough to make it look like she's on some serious shit, even if it's just the aftereffects of Angel Juice and Dean can attest to the potency of that. They'll take her to the hospital, run a blood test, and keep her in observation for a night when she comes up clean. Dean hopes she has health insurance.
He grabs Castiel by the elbow and pulls him out of the limelight before anyone can start asking questions. Knowing Castiel, he would say something truthful that would land them in jail for the next 24 hours at least if questioned. They make their way out of the club, and the cool night air makes Dean shiver when it hits him. There's a bite to it; fall is coming. Dean remembers a time when he thought he'd never see another autumn and the thought makes the cold more comforting.
"You are displeased." Castiel falls into step beside Dean as he starts off in the direction of the Impala, parked a few blocks away. Dean refuses to acknowledge that statement. They walk together in silence, the streets strangely calm and peaceful.
"I am rusty, you know," Cas says at last, and there is just enough hesitation in his voice that Dean looks up at him, hopeful. But Castiel is only looking at him quizzically, as though Dean can answer some unspoken question.
Dean sighed, stopping under a streetlight to look his companion in the face. "Cas… Castiel. I thought you were dead. Sometimes I wish you were still dead. At least then I could mourn you. But this, it's like everything you were was wiped away. What am I supposed to do? Huh?"
"You are… unhappy that I'm still here?" There is a definite question in the Angel's voice this time.
"No… yes… No, of course not." Dean stamps his feet to get warm, to give himself a moment to think. "No, Castiel, I'm not. I'm glad that you're alive and promoted and whatever the hell you are, because you didn't deserve what Lucifer had in store for you."
"I see," Cas says, and there is suddenly a warmth in his eyes that reminds Dean of before. "Thank you. I, too, am glad that I still live. But that's not enough, is it?"
Dean can't answer that, because as much as he wishes that he didn't give a damn, the truth is he does. He did. Instead, he starts walking again, arms tucked under his chest to stop his shivering which isn't all due to the cold of the evening.
"God became man so that man could become God." The words are little more than a whisper from Castiel's mouth.
"Huh?" Dean is definitely not in the mood for religious nonsense.
"Athanasius, 'On the Incarnation of the Divine Word'," Castiel answers, however much of an answer it is. "I had always wondered what he meant. Perhaps it is better not to know."
They arrive back at the Impala then, and the Angel nods his head towards the car. "We are here," he says, eyes once more impenetrable. "I will leave you now. I am sorry that this evening was not more to your liking."
Dean meets those eyes, that hard stare, once again cold and inhuman. "It's not that," he says. "This evening wasn't for me." Dean is the first to look away from Castiel's gaze, ice cold where once it would have been heated and passionate and full of unnamed emotions. He climbs into the Impala and shuts the door, thinking he may need to stop by the 7-11 on his way home and buy a twelve-pack of beer.
"Dean," Castiel calls, as he turns the key to start the engine. A few awkward moments pass as Dean rolls down the window, though he's sure Castiel could make himself heard if he wanted to. Once again, there is almost emotion in Cas's eyes. "If it's any consolation, I am sorry I can't be what you want anymore." The Angel looks away then, gazing up at the stars barely visible through the haze of smog above. "I hope you are happy now."
iWhat do you say to that?/i Dean gives the angel a half smile and a salute. A soldier's farewell. Castiel gives him a nod in return before disappearing with the barest gust of a breeze. Dean skips the 7-11 on the way home, cranking the music up loud as he drives the few short miles back to his home.
The downstairs light is on when he arrives. Ben is sleeping quietly in his room, for once not tossing and turning like he usually does at night, and when Dean finally crawls into bed after checking all the windows and doors, Lisa is warm and soft and feels like home.