Medusa Smiles, Judas Lips, Open Arms and Fingertips
Written May 21st 2012
Emmanuel always felt wrong on his tongue. And Dean was not the name of an angel. PRE 7X17 TAG, but written after the season finale.
I honestly don't know what this is. Some weird crazy ass Cass on acid. I wrote it on the bus XD Anyway. Established Destiel, and even a dash of Sabriel in there, because I just couldn't resist. It's not very good. Just. Emotional crap that poured out onto a piece of paper. Named after the Sound of the Winter by Bush.
DC: I just watch the bees.
The rain is unrelenting.
It clogs his ears turning every sound into nothing short of a murmur, invades his vision, pounds against his brain. He knows for a fact that Daphne – his beautiful wife – is calling to him, telling him to come inside, but the rush of cold that comes with each drop is just so amazing.
More importantly, it reminds him of the color green.
Daphne stands next to him in a flash, dark hair soaking further into ebony, eyes wide and pleading, and oh so very non-green, pulling at his sleeve, screaming the name he never really felt belonged to him.
He gets angry all of a sudden – why wouldn't she let him be, let him think? (The rain – the color green – a black car – a shotgun. And blood. So much blood.)
"Stop it, Dean."
Dean. He doesn't know where the name comes from, only that it's sharp and ravenous in his mouth, clawing at the back of his throat, and all he wants to do is say it again and again forever.
Daphne takes a step back. (What he doesn't know, is that she already knew that name. He wakes up screaming it at night.)
A lightning bolt breaches the sky.
"Emmaunel," she cries again, and he only flinches at the El, at the end, and he thinks, El is Hebrew for God, and that's why most of the angel's name's end with it.
He closes his eyes, naming as many angels as he can think of, from all those nights on the internet. Some of them sting like a bitch – Zachariel (though he thinks it should be Zachariah), Uriel, Raphael, Sammeal, Raziel, Abaddon, Lucifer – but then Gabriel surfaces, and he can taste sugar on his tongue and the tears of an unknown man.
Sam was a wreck after Gabriel.
His eyes fly open and he stumbles forward, skin tingleing beneath the static of the storm. The sentence is not his own, is not whispered in his voice, or Daphne's, and jade, emerald, and dear God, who knows what else, explodes behind his retinas.
"Emmanuel!" The voice pierces him and he turns, blinking past the raindrops. Daphne has retreated back to the porch, arms wrapped around herself, shivering.
"Just give me a moment," he says calmly back, facing the road once more, lids sliding shut.
Lucifer, Gabriel, Samuel – Sam, Sammy –
Dean.
Not an angel's name.
Lucifer, Gabriel, Michael –
Dean.
Dean.
Dean.
A new voice surfaces with the name, deep and gruff, and layered with hidden emotion that would be impossible to identify if you did not know it well. Emmanuel can easily identify what each high and low, dip and curve, in it means,m even if it's not saying any words. Another voice comes with it, and suddenly he's smiling and a warm fingertip is touching his lips.
Castiel.
The name is barely breathed and his inside's are on fire, and he can't breathe, and, and –
When he opens his eyes, he's Emmanuel again.
And he's oh so very cold.