Sorry for not uploading it earlier, my beta was just busy with her college. She hadn't replied me yet with the final version, but I decided to submit it anyway. My grammar had been improved recently, and this part was already checked by my beta once. So I made the final checking myself. If there will be some mistakes, blame me =)
Part 2
When a Human Falls
It had been almost four year since Dean returned from Hell. Sometimes it seemed like it was only yesterday. At least hunter was glad the nightmares about his time in the Pit were visiting him less and less often.
But then it started all over again. At first those dreams were blurry, and Dean couldn't distinguish anything more than ghostly shades of scarlet, sometimes he was lucky enough to wake up before the dream became too chaotic, but he'd always awaken panting and covered in his own sweat.
On nights like those, Dean would have reached under his pillow and extract a wedge of soft blue fabric - the same old blue shirt he had recovered from Castiel sometimes ago. Dean wanted to return it back, because he really didn't need it, but his own proud didn't let him to do so. He also tried to throw it away, but no matter what, he kept returning it back shoving under the pillow and every time he had a nightmare he kept finding himself touching it. It felt like something to be ashamed of, like something so dirty that every time his brains was waking up, hunter was jerking his hand away, hating himself for being so uncontrolled over own actions.
Later his dreams started to become clearer and more realistic: he saw Alistair standing above him with a terrifying grin on his face and a knife in his hand. Every time the sharp blade was touching hunter's skin, pain was spreading all over his body in acute spasms, it felt so real.
Dean wanted to scream, but he didn't let himself to do so. All the sounds he was allowing to emit were dumped and blunt. He was waking up breathless, with his face buried in the blue fabric. The shirt still smelled like Castiel, it still felt like his touch. Dean hated himself for doing it, hated himself to be so weak that he still needed an angel to banish his bad dreams away. And he knew that he will never be able to ask him to do it, because Castiel left him, he betrayed him.
It's dark, darker than a night with no stars and no moon, but Dean can see blood and several souls prepared for him on the rack... Dean can hear everything, too; Even better than he can see it, the screaming, the yelling, and the begging for mercy. Dean takes a new soul off the rack and begins cutting away at it, as something dark curls around his heart and mind... And, if a smile does twist his lips while he works, is it really such an important detail? He's just enjoying himself.
Dean is gone. He has no memories of his life, of his brother, of his father, or of anything else.
Suddenly, there's this bright light, and it's so warm and so beautiful. Dean raises his head to see a pair of large white wings above him. He shouldn't know it, but he does, he knows that this is Castiel, an Angel of the Lord in his true form. The angel's figure is human-like and slender, his face is bare close to no features but it is beautiful all the same, and he glows an ethereal white and yellow.
Just by simply standing next to the angel, Dean can feel the darkness leaving him and his memories returning.
Dean knows now, that this is supposed to be the moment where Castiel reaches out and grips him tight in order to raise him from perdition, where Castiel lifts Dean up and takes him away from this terrible place.
But suddenly, the angel turns and flies back up. He leaves Dean behind.
"Wait," Dean yells, "you can't leave me here! Please!"
But the angel doesn't listen to him; he continues flying up, alone. His silhouette grows smaller and smaller with every second.
"No! Cas! Cas, Please!" Dean yells as loud as he can. "Castiel!"
Dean's eyes shot open, he was drenched in his own sweat, breathless. He didn't have the shirt in his hands not on his face, but there was a gentle caress to his forehead that calmed him. It was weird, and wrong, and he should've jerked away from the touch. But he didn't.
Instead, he turned his head to see Castiel sitting on the edge of the couch. It was dark in the room but Dean could feel the angel's piercing gaze. Castiel's hand brushed the hunter's forehead, rubbing the cold sweat away. Dean couldn't bring himself to say a single word; a part of him wanted to yell at the fallen angel and to tell him to leave, but another part was shaking in fear that Castiel just might. That part was scared that the ex-angel's cool palm would move away from his forehead, and that the touch would be torn.
"If you hate me so much, why do you keep calling my name in your sleep?" Castiel asked.
Dean wanted to tell Cas the truth, just this once. Maybe it was because the traces of his nightmare were still fresh in his mind, maybe it was because he wasn't sure if he was awake or still dreaming, but it didn't matter. Dean didn't know what to say.
"If you hate me so much…" Dean finally started, "why do you keep coming back when I call you?"
Dean was ready for anything; He was ready for Castiel to leave him and return to the panic room, he was ready for Castiel's tongue-like dagger to pierce him with insults, and he was ready to get punched like he had been several days ago. But Castiel just smiled faintly at him. Other people wouldn't have even noticed it on the face of the angel, but for Dean, it was the answer to every question in his head.
"I don't hate you, Dean Winchester."
And Dean didn't hate Castiel, not even after the angel had lied to him. Dean had just been hurt. And all this time, all the attitude towards the angel was only to hide his pain.
Dean started laughing, moving from his laying position to settling upright on the edge of the couch, next to the smaller man. He knew there wasn't anything funny about the situation, but he couldn't stop himself.
"Why are you laughing?" Castiel asked.
"Well, because we're both full of crap, you know."
Castiel looked Dean in the eyes and tilted his head, but then he nodded with understanding and smiled again.
"Yes, I guess we are."
For several moments they just sat there looking at each other.
"What the hell happened to you, Cas?" The hunter asked.
"God?" Castiel answered, but his tone told Dean that the ex-angel wasn't sure.
"God kicked your ass and sent you back to the Earth?"
"I think so, yes."
"What do you mean, you think so?"
"Dean, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Castiel sighed and closed his eyes.
"Nah, Cas, I was being a dick, too." The hunter interrupted him.
"No, Dean," Castiel shook his head, "it was fair. You were right; I couldn't maintain such a power, it had begun killing me. I had opened Purgatory again, and when I stepped in the souls tore me apart. Then I woke up in the panic room."
Castiel looked up at Dean, remorse written on his face. "I didn't deserve to be saved. You were correct to come to that conclusion, Dean."
"Great Cas, now it is you feeding me an 'I didn't deserve to be saved' speech? Perfect." Dean grunts in annoyance.
Castiel nodded silently, getting up from the couch, but Dean grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him to himself. The ex-angel tumbled into Dean's lap with a quiet gasp, and Dean embraced him and buried his face in Castiel's shoulder. Dean felt that something broke inside him this moment. It was like the wall in his brother's head, but instead of bad memories it had been held something else – something warm and right. Then he started to feel other man shaking on his knees, sighing and sobbing. Dean moved one hand to ex-angel's cheek to discover, that it was wet.
Dean wanted to calm him down somehow, to say that it was all going to be okay, but he found himself speechless. Instead, his hand slid down Castiel's side in search of the edge of Castiel's shirt, which Dean's fingers dipped under the fabric in search of skin. Dean moved his hand to rest on Castiel's stomach, his fingers moving in soft circles.
Castiel froze for a moment, before he settled in closer to Dean. The hunter turned to rest his forehead against Castiel's, his eyes meeting the fallen angel's gaze. Castiel gulped and nodded, allowing Dean to move in even closer, pressing his lips softly to Castiel's.
Dean had never kissed another man, he didn't know what to expect. It was sloppy; it was wet and salty of saliva mixed with tears. Dean had no idea why did he start it, but at the moment it seemed like the only way to tell the angel that Dean cared. Castiel moaned in his mouth and started to fall down on the couch, holding Dean by the collar of his shirt and tugging the hunter down on top of himself.
Dean didn't know where any of this was coming from, but the very moment he'd woken up he had felt a strong need to be close to Castiel. To be with him; and kissing him wasn't such a big deal… But sex with a fallen angel in a male body? That was a whole new level of fucked up, even for Dean Winchester. But this was Castiel. Cas, who had gripped Dean tight and risen him from perdition, the one who'd saved his ass countless times... And now, Castiel thought he didn't deserve to be saved? So screw it, screw his moral barriers and frights. Castiel needed to know everything, everything Dean thought about him. So if it was the only way to show, Dean didn't mind it.
Dean couldn't control himself. All the anger and despair that had building up for a month now, was rushing out of him in the form of pure passion.
Castiel's body felt hot underneath the hunter. It was unfamiliar for Dean: harder and stronger than he had used to, but it wasn't unpleasant, it just was different. Both men were breathing hard, exploring each-other with their hands, tugging their clothes off and then exploring more. Dean had to make an effort to tear their lips apart, and push himself up. For several moments they were just laying there naked, staring into each-other's eyes. That was it – the last chance to stop, to run away and spend the rest of the life pretending it had never happened, but Dean wasn't going to. For him it became more than just an attempt to prove Castiel that he deserved saving more than anyone else in the whole world. It became an attempt to prove that the hunter himself deserved something he could call happiness. And Dean rushed forwards again, attacking Castiel's lips with new force.
Knowing Castiel for nearly four years, Dean expected him to be totally ignorant. Yes, it had been the first time for the angel and the hunter could feel that the guy was nervous at the beginning, but Dean had to change his opinion when the smaller man parted his legs, positioning himself, knowing perfectly what he wanted. Dean couldn't help but smirk at that, as he mumbled something like "one moment" reaching for his duffel he was keeping behind the couch side.
Dean had never felt anything like it, before. And no, it wasn't about physical pleasure, there was something else… The way everything felt meaningless around him, the way the room disappeared, like they were somewhere between space and time. The way Castiel was spread underneath him, moaning louder with every thrust. The way he looked, his usual calm and stoic demeanor had been lost to the world, now he was uncontrolled, his hair messy, and his lips parted with only Dean's name upon them.
In the back of his mind Dean knew that they were too loud, that Castiel was waking up everyone in the house, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
Sometime between the thrusts they managed to turn on the couch, and now Castiel sat on top of Dean, riding him. Dean kissed his angelic face, while wrapping one hand around the other man's erection, trying to give more than take.
Castiel's palm found its way to hunter's shoulder, exactly on the scar Castiel had left on him when he'd yanked him out of Hell. Castiel was crying again, but this time the hunter could say it wasn't out of pain or sorrow, rather it was because of these overwhelming emotions the two were sharing. He knew it, because he also felt tears running from his own eyes. They were connected physically and emotionally at the same time, and it was so perfect.
And then, out of nowhere, Dean came to realize why he felt like this was the best sex he'd ever had; this wasn't just sex he was having with Castiel. They weren't fucking, and they didn't have sex - they had made love. This thought stroke Dean like a bullet right through his heart, but most surprising was the fact, that it didn't scare the hunter. Even with the fact how girlish the thought was, how alien for Dean's existence it felt, right now it seemed so natural, so right.
Dean was sure he had never been so happy before, not with anyone else. The way Castiel felt, his skin, his warmth, his breath, and the moment where his body shook in one spasm, crying out Dean's name. The hunter's mind went blank as he surged with release inside of the angel, grunting and panting.
Dean didn't remember exactly what happened after. It seemed like they had fallen down on a couch simultaneously, breathing heavily and looking each-other in the eyes. It looked like Castiel kept telling Dean something, but the hunter could not proceed it yet. His mind was still disconnected from his body after everything what had happened today. Slowly his consciousness started to fade into black. He was trying to resist it, but it was too strong – the explosion of his emotions made the hunter exhausted and slowly he sank back into deep sleep.
~ooo~
The next thing Dean felt was the warmth of sunlight on his skin. At first Dean thought that he had died and now was seeing heaven, but after several moments he made himself open his eyes and look around. The bright light simply turned to be a ray of sun, picking through the window in Bobby's living room. It was resting on hunter's face, making it twitch and squint.
Dean turned his head away from the sun and now noticed Castiel, lying next to him, cuddling; with his head on hunter's shoulder and his arm resting on Dean's chest. Ex-angel was still asleep, his face was lax and full of peace in his slumber and now Dean couldn't help admitting that Castiel was beautiful this way. And no, it had to do nothing with Jimmy's physical characteristics, but with the angel himself, who now could show all his trust to the hunter, let himself be so open, so venerable next to him.
Dean expected to wake up in the morning in panic about what had happened last night, that he would want to run away and never show up again, but surprisingly he felt nothing like that. In fact he realized that right now the last thing in the world he wanted is to be away from his angel.
"I wasn't aware you could grow tits and a vagina over one night." Dean said to himself in annoyance at his thought process.
Dean turned his head to glance at Bobby's clock, it was 7:00 A.M. Hunter strained his ears, trying to hear if anyone had already been awake but the house was quiet. Bobby and Sam were probably still sleeping. Now he just had to make himself get up, for no one could see him here, cuddling with Castiel. Of course Dean realized that there wasn't a single way two other hunters didn't hear them: Castiel turned out to be a hell of a noisemaker. But Dean just wanted to save their eyes, if he failed to save their ears. So Dean turned back to his angel and placed his thumb on the other man's face.
"Hey, Cas," Dean whispered, petting Castiel's chin, "wake up."
Castiel groaned and moved even closer, hugging Dean now also with his leg. A wide smile split his face.
"Cas, we need to get up, buddy – I'm pretty sure Sam and Bobby don't won't to see us like this."
The ex-angel chuckled and opened happy blue eyes staring at Dean's green ones.
"It's not as bad as I originally thought." Castiel declared all the sudden. Dean's eyebrow rose in confusion, and Cas went on, "Being human."
Dean chuckled at those words: "Well, you haven't lived until you try an apple pie."
Castiel rewarded the hunter with another wide smile making Dean's heart jump in his chest.
"You know what?" Dean asked, "Screw Sam and Bobby."
And with these words he moved on top of Castiel, kissing him. Castiel moaned in response, sending a jolt of pleasure to Dean's groin, but a gust of wind made them stop. Suddenly, they both were fully clothed.
"What the hell?" Surprised, Dean quickly looked around the room.
"Ah boys, sorry for interrupting your little interaction," a familiar voice said, "but I have something for Castiel."
Both the hunter and the ex-angel jumped from their positions on the couch, starring at the figure in the corner of the living room. It was always little bit dark in this room and this exact corner was eliminated purely, but it was impossible not to recognize the angel.
"Ba… Balthazar?" Castiel nervously asked; the poor guy was beside himself trying to figure out what to do.
"Oh, don't worry, brother: I'm not going to harm you." Balthazar explained quickly. "Really, Cassie, I'm not angry at you, I swear."
And then the ex-angel rushed to his brother bringing him into an embrace.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, brother!" He started.
"It's okay, Cassie. Really." The angel smiled.
Dean, in turn, felt out of place. He set on the edge of the couch glaring at the two.
"Anyway, back to business." Balthazar finally nodded. "Otherwise your boyfriend will kill me… Really don't want to die again."
Castiel returned to Dean, settling by his side.
"Wait, someone wasted you?" Dean asked. He turned to look at Castiel in search for explanation; instead he found an ashamed look on Castiel's face. "Wait… was it… Cas?"
"Okay. Let's not talk about it! Cas already said he is sorry, and I'm alive, I don't know how but I am. Anyway, here."
And Balthazar withdrew something from his pocket and tossed it to Castiel. When the ex-angel caught it, Dean could finally see what this object actually was, and for some reason it made him shiver. It was a small glowing glass vial, filled with a white light. Dean had seen something like it before, when he, Anna, Sam and Ruby encountered Uriel – it was a container with Grace. And the fact that Balthazar gave it to the younger looking brother made it clear that this Grace belonged to Castiel.
"Went through some trouble getting this, but it was worth it!" Balthazar smiled. "Now you will be able to return back to Heaven."
Dean saw how Castiel face changed, it became brighter and happier. Of course, being an angel was everything to him; without his Grace, he felt empty and powerless. Dean had to be happy for his friend, congratulate him, but he wasn't. When Castiel turned to face the hunter, Dean gave him a forced smile, trying to make it as realistic as he could.
"I'm happy for you, Cas." He whispered. Castiel nodded and smiled back, but then turned to his brother.
"I want you to keep it." He said, returning the vial back to Balthazar.
"Keep it? Are you sure?" The other angel asked in surprise.
"Cas? But, it's your Grace, your everything…" Dean started, but Castiel shut him up by putting a finger to his lips.
"I know…" The ex-angel nodded. "I'm not giving up on it. I'll take it back in, maybe, forty years or so."
Dean smiled again, and this time it was a real smile, not a fake one. He wanted to kiss his lover so much right now, but he still couldn't bring himself to do it while someone else was in a room. He was pretty sure Castiel should be the only one to see this side of him.
"And for now…" Castiel murmured, smiling again. "For now I still haven't tried any apple pie."