Title: Gloria Mundi
Characters/Pairings: implied Dean/Castiel, mention of Sam
Warnings: Amnesia/Mental Asylum, angst
Spoilers: 7x17
Summary: Anon Fic Prompt: Cas is locked up in the asylum for religious psychosis. He meets Dean there.
The first thing he notices is that the man has the greenest eyes he's ever seen.Windows to the soul, the voice whispers in the back of his mind, and he can't find it in himself to disagree, for a man as beautiful as this one must have the most glorious soul in existence.
A Righteous Man, so the voices tell him. He wonders what the Righteous Man is doing here.
He seems familiar, this beautiful, Adonis of a man, and when they stare at each other, he thinks he sees recognition in those glorious jade eyes.
The man's throat works around a swallow, Adam's apple bobbing distractingly, and full, pink lips parting. "Cas?"
His voice is raspy and low, a hint of a whiskey-southern drawl. Castiel tilts his head.
"They call me James, here," he says, voice carefully controlled and soft. (Ah, silly one, you know that isn't who you are.)
The man's face falls briefly before he looks back at him. "You don't remember me?" his voice is hoarse, raw. Castiel shakes his head but hesitates.
"You seem...familiar." (alter ego - as one as you as you are one)
The man's eyes light up at that, so beautiful, so vivid, and he takes a step forward. "Cas, it's me, Dean," he says intensely, drawing his lower lip between his teeth.
Castiel's eyes follow the path of his tongue. "Cas," he echoes. "Is that my name?" (You're a creation and nothing else.)
Dean snorts softly. "To me, yeah," he murmurs. He pauses. "You remember Sam? My brother?"
Castiel shakes his head but inhales sharply when he feels Dean's hand on his shoulder, sliding down to his back. He jolts forward, hyper sensitive and jittery, eyes wild. (Not there. No hand is meant to stray where what once was is now gone)
Dean's eyes go wide and he drops his hands. "Oh, shit, Cas-"
"Stop it," Castiel snaps, both to the voices and Dean. "I'm not your Cas or whoever you say and I'm not-stop it, I'm not-"
Castiel's voice steadily rises, barely paying attention to the panicked glint in Dean's eyes, the way he's clutching at his shoulders.
(You've got one for the beautiful mind brother, one for the lost almost-father, and one for the one you love, angel. Come now, angel. Don't you remember the one you love?)
Castiel's breathing is wild, blue eyes flared, glowing a luminous, blinding blue as his back arches in a soundless scream.
(Pax vobiscum.
Sic transit gloria mundi.)
A/N: Please Review!
Pax vobiscum - peace be with you
Sic transit gloria mundi - Thus passes the glory of the world