OKAAAY so what should I say? First Cas/Dean fic in english. Yes. Hmm, well. Happens couple of weeks after 6.22. Castiel goes to meet Dean Winchester one last time and things go only to worse.
After things had exploded in hands in that musty, dark workshop, Castiel had sent Dean and Bobby away, Sam as well, though he would have delightedly smited them all for abandoning him when he most needed them.
But no, he had sent them away. It was for him. It would have been wise to make sure that the Winchester's and the old drunk would never get to him again and try to prevent him for being new overlord of Heaven, earth and Hell, but still he just let them go.
To tell the truth, Castiel was little lost at first. He wasn't sure at all, what to do or what he was supposed to do. No one had ever explained what it ment to be a God, almighty himself. Thought of asking help from Dean passed by, but he let it be. First thing was to return Heaven and then hunt down Crowley. Then, he'd make humankind pray for him. Pray for forgiveness.
Seemed like there was no humanish though in Castiel's mind anymore. He was more like a empty shell, overwhelmed with power the millions of souls had brought and given to him.
After sending hunters away, he had left, leaving the bloody remains of Raphael on the walls, for someone else to clean up. If anyone would ever pass that building again.
Castiel travelled long, flying upon his kingdom. His kingdom. Castiel felt proudful. He had won, war was over. Old God was long gone, and now there was him, more justiceful. Better.
At last Castiel had settled down for a while in the small village somewhere middlewest, keeping his humanform, without even thinking, how painful it had to be to Jimmy Novak to hold God within him. Or maybe Castiel just didn't care. Former angel had turned pretty much stonecold.
But of course anyone would tell it had been expected. What else could have happened, after anyone Castiel had build trust in had suddenly abandoned him and allied behind his back? Castiel decided not to put anymore thoughts on Winchester or Balthazar or any other. There was just him, from now on.
For days Castiel staid among those people, even when he knew that Winchesters were probably looking for him. Castiel kept himself invisible, just watching. Spite crossed his mind more than once: He had begin to thought humans more like filthy, unpleasant animals.
Villagefolks with tendencies for fanaticism in religious matters.
Castiel walk'd among them, and in the 8th days morning he finally left. Before returning in Heaven he wanted to do one last thing, which he had forbidden for himself until then. He wanted to visit Dean Winchester one last time.
Watching upon heavily breathing, but still lightsleeped man. Hunter always slept with one eye open, ears registrating every single sound coming from nearby, hand ready to grap knife or whatsoever awaiting attacker under sleeping man's pillow. Still Castiel somehow presumed, that this one didn't have knife under his head. Bottle of good ol' Whiskey would have been better guess.
Former angel watched hunters sleep, keeping good distance. Feelings of anger, rage and even sadness from the abandonement crossed Castiel's vessels' beating heart. Castiel clenched his wrists, feeling blood running away from his fingers as skin tightened on his knuckles and made them turn white. It felt cold in his stomach.
"Dean Winchester", he whispered, breaking the silence of the night where you could only hear breathing and various sounds coming from old woodhouse squeking in the wind. Talking felt weird, after being silent for all those days.
There Dean still slept, same place where he had slept, when Cas had last time visited him during the night. On the knotty, worn out chouch, which still seemed to give hunter best sleeps ever.
Which probably ment that man never did slept too good.
Castiel took step or two, to have a closer look.
It was rare, that Dean hadn't already woken up. Usually, when Castiel came around, Dean's eyes opened within seconds. Now… Hunter didn't even flinch. Castiel's eyes narrowed and he tilted his head like he used to.
He watched upon sleeping man, the through from messy hair to his frowned forehead and the bridge of his nose, which was covered with small freckles. Freckles circulated their way to his cheeks. There were also couple of faint freckles in man's lips. Lips were full and little parted, as they let slow breaths move between them. Hands were crossed across his chest, like he was protecting himself from something or someone. Castiel felt sudden urge to either smite the man… Or just touch him.
Dean had meant lot to him. Dean was the one whom he had fallen for, who he had rebelled for. And all for this? It seemed almost vulgar to him how his choices, his wrong choices, how Dean had labelled them, had made all his trusted ones abandon and betray him. Where was the trust when he had needed it the most? Or Dean only, when he had needed him? Winchester brothers had abandoned him and even turned one of his brothers against him. But in the end, Dean was the one who had told him that he was no longer part of the family if he continued his actions.
Muscles in Castiel's jaw tightened and he clenched his fists again.
"I'll never… Come back when you call me. Not again", he said silently, trying to make sure that he didn't wake Dean up. Or anyone else possibly sleeping in the house. He tried to keep calm, tried… To keep his mind lucid. Somehow he felt that things wouldn't go as he had planned - Winchesters wouldn't never bow to him.
"I'll smite you, Dean Winchester. And this time I won't be pulling you back from where I'm about to send you." Low voice raised little, just a little, but that was enough. Sleeping man's eyes opened slightly and hands opened from tight grip around his torso. When Dean saw someone standing in the shadows, hand downright darted itself under the pillow. Castiel soon noticed, that he had been wrong about the bottle. But it wasn't a knife, either. He faced off with the barrel of a gun. Colt.
"What the Hell-", Dean started, trying to make his eyes adjust to dark light of the night. Castiel didn't feel need to hide, so he stepped on the ray of moonlight coming out from the wide windows behind the couch. Window was covered with seals drawn with blood. But of course they didn't work in him anymore.
"Cas?" Dean's voice seemed to broke a little. Irritation and preparedness in his voice melted away, to frightened tone, which reminded Castiel from a little child. Dean Winchester was absolutely horrified by him.
Castiel raised his jaw a little, looking arrogant.
"Hello, Dean", he said. He had said exactly the same thing many times before, but now the voice was hollowed and Dean couldn't recognize nerdy i-don't-understand-that-reference angel from it. That angel was long gone.
"Cas… What… What are you doing here, man? I thought you'd be in Heaven doing you God stuff", Dean said in cocky, but still oh so horrified voice. Castiel noticed that he was almost pleased by the fear he had awoken in that man. Castiel measured Dean with his face. Colt had been lowered, but Dean held onto it still, against his tight, ready to blow.
"That", Castiel said, nodding towards old, still shiny gun that didn't hold too many bullets to waste "won't work on me anymore, Dean. You of all people should know that." Dean scrunched his browns as he took fast look on the gun.
"I know that, I just…" he started, puckering his lips out like he always did when he got nervous. Eyes wandered on Castiel's feet, looking those pointy, brown leather shoes. Seemed that Dean hadn't guts to look him in the eye. Dean laid the gun on the couch, looking at it longingly for a while and placed his hands back on his tights, picking his dark gray, long-sleeved shirt's sleeves, like it was that he wasn't quite sure what to do with his hands, exactly.
"Cas, look, I'm…" Dean started, shameful, still looking somewhere between their feet.
"Quiet down. Now", Castiel said fast, before Dean couldn't even finish his sentence. He didn't need this. Not anymore. Dean finally raised his look onto his face. The look he gave to Castiel was so full of panic and sorry, that Castiel almost let it sleep. He could just walk away. Look on Dean's face was just heartbreaking.
"Cas, please…"
"Shut your mouth, Winchester", Castiel hissed, one, clenched fist rising in the air, fingers placing against each other and all Dean could do was to wait for Cas to snap those fingers. Castiel had never called him Winchester straight to his face. Never before. Dean didn't say anything, didn't beg, didn't say sorry no more. His whole body was tense and his heart bounded against his ribs as it was about to blow. Like it was supposed to. Within a second, Dean knew, his body would be nothing but blood and guts on Bobby's windowsills.
But the snap never came. Castiel just stood there, fingers 3 fingers against each other, 2 bended on his palm so hard that it could have hurt if he only felt pain and stared down at him. Former angels lips were pinched so hard together, that their pink color had faded to almost white. His muscles clinched and most blueish eyes ever glared at him furiously. Angels eyes turned darker as moment passed by.
"C-Cas. Snap out of it man…" Dean said, voice whimpering. Man eyes glimmered - Castiel knew he was about to start crying. Face was similar to one that hunter had shown in the workshop not less than 2 weeks ago.
"Why did you came here?" Dean repeated his earlier question, wiping sleep out of his eyes, trying to make some sense out of their new 'God'.
"I'm here to destroy thee, whom refuse to bow and profess your love to me", saying exactly same things he had said before. At last Dean gathered enough strength and stood up.
"Oh come ON, Cas! This", he said, placing his hand onto ex-angel's chest, where Jimmy Novak's heart was. Trench coat was as clean as ever, so was his suit. Only tie was worn upside down. Castiel looked slowly down his body, like he loathed Dean touching him.
"This isn't you", Dean continued, voice breaking down even more with each word he spoke. He closed his hand to a fist, rasping some of man's white blouses fabric in it, refusing to let go. He let his head fall, trying to cover the first tears bursting on the corner of his eyes.
"Let go of me you filthy animal." Castiel's anger rose once again, and he grasped Dean's wrist, ripping the hand off of him. Dean winced - the grasp hurt.
"Let go of my wrist", he said slowly, trying to pull his hand off.
"Why didn't you just listen to me. Even once. I did all for you, I always came when you called… When I asked you to help me…" Castiel spoke out. Dean's lips parted. He hadn't expected this.
"Cas, look, you went to the dark side. You're not SUPPOSED to work with a fucking demon! Not especially with CROWLEY." Without even noticing Dean only made things worse.
"Your brother worked with a demon, you forgave him. Bobby worked with a demon, you didn't even question it. Even YOU worked with one, Dean. So how come you can't understand my actions?" Castiel's fingertips pushed their way in Dean's wrist.
Dean looked confused - Castiel was right. Kind of.
"Cas, you're an angel, you're not supposed to…"
"Were", Castiel corrected.
"WERE an angel if it wasn't only that, you LIED to me. You lied. And how hard it could be to just ask for help? I would have helped you, you know. I would have." One, single tear escaped from the green eyes.
Castiel knew, that Dean would have helped him. It was just that his own pride had gotten in the way. He just only hoped, that Dean would have understood, what and why he had done it all.
"Bitch", Dean whimpered, when he suddenly slapped his free hand on his face and his shoulders began to shook. Castiel didn't feel sympathy for this man. He was almighty, he didn't need such feelings. Or so he believed.
"You're like my brother, Cas, you fucking son of a bitch. You don't let your family down like that", Dean cried, not anymore struggling to release his hand from Castiel's hold.
"I hope this ever had come to pass. I hope I never raised you", Castiel said suddenly, letting go. There was reddish imprint on the wrist where he had hold Dean from. He placed his hand suddenly on Dean's shoulder, where older hand imprint still was. Dean looked at the shoulder from behind his hand, wiping tears away, confused about what Castiel was doing.
"I hope that too", he said, sounding angry all of the sudden, trying to move away from the hand.
"Promise has been broken. Profound bond no longer exists between us." As Castiel had said this, Dean felt first cold, then suddenly burning sensation on his shoulder. He screamed out and gripped from Castiel's coat's sleeve, trying to pull hand off. Castiel looked blankly at his hand, which glowed in red and white. Pain on the shoulder only got worse, and Dean fell on his knees.
Finally Castiel pulled off, taking few steps back. He had heard sounds coming from upstairs. He had probably woken Sam and Bobby. For a while he stared at the staircase, then back at Dean, who had curled up on the floor, holding his shoulder to make the pain go away, and shaking. Eyes were halfway closed, and jaws were tightly pressed together.
When Sam and Bobby ran downstairs, Castiel was already gone, with the silent sound of feathers moving against each other. Dean laid on the floor, still holding his arm like a maniac.
