Thank you all for kindly reviewing this story! The reviews make me want to update quicker! Sadly, though, I still haven't gotten any farther in Green Eyes...I dunno, I guess I'm just in a slow spot? Haha, I dunno, but yeah. Anyway ;) Hopefully the next chapter of Reverberating Foosteps will be posted soon. It's almost complete (the chapter, anyway, haha, while the actual length of the story continues to vary). Thanks again, you guys! I'm so glad this story is doing so well! I honestly wasn't too sure about it.
Speaking of dragons! My dream last night was AWESOME. It had a dragon in it ;) And if I actually decide to ever write it out, it could wind up being the sequel to this story...or happen near the end of this one, possibly? Depends, haha, but it was awesome. I love dreams!
O.o anyway...enough ranting...
Thanks again and please continue to review! Also, if there is anything you would like to have happen in this story or any of my others, feel free to let me know! I am also open for challenges! (For example, this story was a challenge suggested to me by my friend, lol)
Onward!
Chapter Three: A Scare
Dean flew, trying desperately to ignore the fiery heat racing through him. He wasn't sure what was happening to him, why his dragon side had decided to show itself so ruthlessly, and in front of Castiel, no less. Tears began to prick at his eyes as he remembered the judgment, the shock, that had been written clearly in Castiel's eyes as he'd stepped back and away from him. It was stupid to think that anyone would ever be able to see past the dragon side of him, to actually get to know him and not care that fire ran through his veins as surely as blood. His wings glided across the sky quickly as he gave a few harsh flaps, wiping furiously at his eyes, which were destined to fully become a fiery red, it seemed, a shade lighter and brighter than his wings.
The air was like a cooling mechanism against his flaming hot skin, his hands still cold even though he wasn't sure as to why. He wasn't sure what was happening to him or why, but he really wanted it to stop. Heat pricked at his skin like tiny flames, and it was even becoming too hot for him, his skin tinged red with the undo heat.
What's happening to me? he wondered briefly, and then gasp as a jolt shook his body, causing him to drop through the sky suddenly. He managed to catch himself after a few feet, and he gripped at his head, struggling to keep flapping and flying correctly in the direction he wanted - home. Home was safe, home was good, and he hoped Elizabeth would have some answers for him. As his Trusted, she should know what was happening and what to do about it, or at least he hoped so. Just a little further, you can do it...Flap. Flap!
Another jolt shook his frame and he dropped further through the air, his wings barely able to catch him time as he hit a brief gust of upward air, which steadied him. "W-What?" he uttered shakily. His breaths became puffs of flame, fire seeping from his mouth even as he released a drawn-out, sharp scream, the fire burning his throat as smoke erupted from his nose. He dropped once more, except this time, the pain was too great and he was unable to catch himself. Crashing through the trees, he brought his wings up just in time to save him from face-planting harshly into the ground, but the landing was still rough and unsteady.
He dropped to his knees, gasping, tears burning his eyes as fire tinged his clothes, seemingly coming out of his very core, seeping through his pores to ignite his body. The heat only continued to grow and a shout erupted from his burning throat as he threw his head back, his fingers clawing at the ground as he hunched forward on his knees. Fire shot from his mouth like a hose and caught several trees aglow with the flaming warmth. He felt bones shifting, much as they had been before, but this time it didn't seem to be stopping. They continued to shift, to shudder through his body, and suddenly he felt himself being wrapped in a cocoon of fire, a heat so deep and so there that he couldn't even feel it.
Exhausted, aching and confused, he closed his fiery red eyes and disappeared into the flames.
Castiel paced through his room, struggling to control his racing thoughts. All he could think about was Dean and how he was a dragon, an actual dragon. All he could see in his mind was fire, the spark that had zapped him, and the fiery feathers of Dean's wings, a shade darker than his eyes...eyes that had been green originally, but was that just a disguise? Dragons could look human. Dragons were evil. But Castiel just couldn't picture Dean like that. Dean, in the week he'd known him, had been kind and had become the best friend Castiel had ever had. He'd seemed honestly worried for Castiel's well-being when he'd asked about the bruises, and he was sure Dean hadn't been faking. He just couldn't picture Dean as a ruthless, vile dragon.
But he was...he was a dragon. A fire dragon, of all things, said to be created by fire and to be the most rare and cruel of all the dragons. Conflicting thoughts raced through Castiel's mind. He continued pacing, wondering what to do. He knew that if one saw a dragon, they were supposed to report it to the authorities so that dragon could be taken care of. But the thought of Dean being 'taken care of' like that certainly didn't settle well with Castiel.
In fact, it sent a certain shiver through his body that he couldn't quite explain. Even though dragons were supposed to be mankind's greatest enemy, he just couldn't turn Dean in. Sure, they had only known each other for a week, but for some reason, it really did feel longer than that. Castiel shook his head and collapsed onto his bed, burying his face into his pillow.
What should I do? he thought, growling to himself. What do I do?
The door to his room opened suddenly and he gasped, quickly sitting up on his bed, his body rigid. His blue eyes flew wide as a man stumbled into the room, angry looking and a dark, drunken look on his face as he scowled and staggered toward the bed, towering over Castiel as he cowered toward the wall. "D-Dad," he whispered shakily, his heart racing wildly in his chest. It wasn't too often that his father got drunk, but when he did, it always meant the pain was going to be so much worse, and Castiel felt his tear deck swelling up.
His father grabbed his arm roughly and threw him to the ground. As he rolled, the carpet rubbing painfully against his skin, he struggled to regain his footing, his only thought being to get the hell out of there. His father slammed him back into the ground and threw a harsh kick to his side, slurring something drunkenly that Castiel couldn't quite understand. However, the blood rushing through his ears due to the pain was pretty damn distracting.
"Stop!" he screeched, struggling to roll away and get to his feet. His father grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged his head back sharply, bending it to a painful angle. A harsh punch landed in his stomach as he was harshly rolled over and pinned, his father's knees digging deep into his arms, causing him to flinch and cry out in pain. Fists slammed into his face, over and over, and he tasted blood due to his busted lip he wriggled and struggled to break free, but he wasn't strong enough. He was just a lanky teen and his father was a bulky, tall man who used his drunken fury to his advantage. "D-Dad, please!" It was hard to talk due to his lip and that way his father kept hitting him. A punch landed in his neck and he gasped, the breath harshly knocked out of him, and he panted to regain it.
"Worthless..." his father growled through a string of drunken slurs. Castiel somehow managed to bring his knee up enough to somehow knock his father off of him enough that his arms were released. He shoved the man away from him and quickly jumped to his feet, staggering out of the room as fast as he could with the pain, his only thought being that he needed to get out as quick as possible.
He stumbled out of the house with a gasp, the night chill in the air slamming into him and burning his lungs as he breathed it in quickly and harshly, his legs pumping quickly as he darted off the front porch with a leap, not bothering to take the stairs for fear that his father would catch up t o him. He hit the ground, gasp, hit his knees, and rolled, coming up standing as he continued to run. Every part of his body, every muscle and joint, ached terribly but he continued running nevertheless, into the trees, the massive trees that surrounded the house. Nearby stood a mountain and around that, a lake - he knew this from pictures and from the one time he'd gone exploring early in the morning before school, not wanting to be home and around his father. He headed toward the mountain eagerly, desperate for escape, release, freedom from his father. Ever since his mother died, things had been rough at home, but lately it had just been ten times worse.
Thinking about it caused bile to form in the back of Castiel's throat, and so he shut similar thoughts down quickly. He continued running, not caring where he was going, and ran up a gentle slope that seemed to go on forever. The further away from the house and his father he was, the better. Some irrational part of his mind whispered that his father would find him if he stopped, but he would be safe if he just kept running, and so he did. He ran for all he was worth, pushing through brambles and low hanging branches blindly, tears pricking furiously at his eyes as the pain increased, his body protesting his movement.
Suddenly his foot slipped and he felt himself falling forward and downward, over the edge of a small cliff. He must have been running up a part of the mountain or something, he realized faintly. Gasping, he clawed and reached frantically for the side and found a brief handhold. He held for everything he was worth, despite the aching and protesting of his sore and abused muscles. "No," he uttered shakily, because sure, he was hurting and his life wasn't necessarily that great, but he didn't want to die. Against his better judgment, he looked down.
Far below him stretched a seemingly endless amount of trees, the tops of them clearly visible to him. To fall would mean death, he was sure, or at least about a million broken bones and no way to move to get help, which would also lead to death. The tears itched more violently at his eyes as he looked back up and tried to claw his way up the side, but it didn't seem to be happening. All it resulted in was him slipping somewhat, and he could feel his grip going. Terrified of trying to move, all he could do was remain still and shout for help, even though he was certain there was no one around to hear him, and no way they would be able to get to him before he fell anyway.
"Help!" he cried as his fingers continued to slip. Why, oh why, couldn't he have just watched where he was going? Why did he have to run so blindly? Growling at his own stupidity, he shook his head and clung more to the side even though his grip was fading, and quickly. "Help! Please!"
Castiel didn't want to die. His mind fought against it with everything he had but it was beginning to seem inevitable. Really and truly inevitable. Death was in his immediate future. Denial clawed at him even as he clawed fervently at the side of the cliff wall.
I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die... It was a mantra that echoed through his mind and body, his denial pure and strong. He couldn't believe this was how it was all going to end. I DON'T WANNA DIE!
And then suddenly, like an answer to his prayers, he saw someone move above him on the edge of the cliff. A face peered down at him and he stared, shocked, because it was Dean, frowning in confusion. "Cas? What the hell?" He shook his head. "Hold on, okay?" He reached a hand down and Castiel stretched his aching arm up shakily, struggling to reach him but he was a few inches too short.
"D-Dean, I can't...!" he said shakily, because everything was truly beginning to look hopeless. "Dean!"
And then his grip disappeared. His fingers slid the rest of the way off the rock he was clinging onto and he dropped through the air, taking notice of the shock on Dean's face as he fell.
"DEAN!" he cried, his heart stuttering fearfully in his chest as he plummeted through the air at a quickening speed.
Like a bullet, Dean jumped over after him, his face set in determination as he reached out for Castiel. Castiel felt warm, so very warm, arms encircle him and tug him against an equally warm chest, but they were still falling. Desperately, he buried his face into Dean's chest, trusting him to get them out of this, since he'd jumped over after them. Dean's wings tore from his back like angelic safety, the fiery redness standing out somewhat against the harsh, black night sky, the moon floating high above them seemingly without a care in the world. Their fall stopped abruptly as wind gathered beneath Dean's sturdy, feathered wings, the warm arms still tight around Castiel. The warmth wasn't unpleasant - in fact, it was the opposite. It was good, safe, and made him feel like he belonged, if that made any sense at all.
With a few flaps, they were turning in the air, soaring higher and higher, and Castiel dared to look down. The mountainside was far below them, the tree tops nearly sinking into the ground like ants, they were so small, and he clunged tighter to Dean, gasping. "Don't let me fall," he whispered shakily, unable to stop himself from sliding his arms tightly around Dean's neck. "Please don't."
"Relax," Dean said in that casual, easy, smooth voice of his that seemed to have an immediate, comforting effect on Castiel. "I'm not going to drop you, Cas. Calm down and enjoy the ride."
Enjoy the ride? Yeah, like that was possible! All he wanted to do was plant his feet firmly into the ground and never leave it again. He was sick of heights, sick of feeling the wind all around him, and he just wanted to be put down. But he didn't bother opening his mouth to say anything, mostly because the warmth was all-consuming and he found that he enjoyed this feeling, the weight of Dean's arms clamped around him so tightly, pressing their bodies together in a clingy, intimate way that left him blushing. Why did he like this so much? It didn't quite make sense to him, but he blamed that on the altitude. It was making him think and feel crazy things, that was all. Nothing more.
Dean soared quietly through the air, as though one with the sky, his wings held out like a never-ending strength. Every once in a while, he'd give a small flap, but otherwise, he just glided smoothly, and Castiel dared to look around. The clouds were all around him, the moon so close and so large. It almost felt like he could reach out and touch it, along with the glistening stars that shone down on them like tiny fireworks, splendid in their glory.
"I...guess this isn't so bad," Castiel murmured reluctantly, loosening his hold on Dean's neck somewhat.
Dean's chuckle was a warm rumble through his body. "Not bad at all." Then he dove downward, curving through the air so suddenly that Castiel's death grip was back on his neck, clutching for all he was worth as he gasped in shock and buried his face into Dean's warm chest once more. Like a rocket, they fell from the sky, darting downward so quickly that Castiel was sure something was wrong, that they were going to crash and die.
But then Dean pulled out of it and Castiel heard the barest rippling of small waves. Frowning, he blinked his eyes open and looked to see that they were now gliding about a foot above the waves of the lake surrounding part of the mountain. It looked beautiful from this view, like something inhuman, the sky above it uniquely reflected to shine like a warm glow into Castiel's eyes. Against his judgment, he found himself smiling, even through the aches and pains that echoed through his sore body. Come to think of it, he was pretty sure he looked a mess. Surely his face was bruised and his lip was bloody...
Except, he didn't taste blood anymore. Good, then it must have stopped.
Dean landed gently on the bank of the lake and set Castiel down on his own two feet. Shakily, Castiel stepped back and got used to his own weight as gravity sank into him. In the air, with Dean and his wings and warmth, he'd felt weightless. Swallowing, he looked at Dean, who was frowning at him. "Oh, Cas..." He shook his head and stepped closer to Castiel. Castiel frowned and stepped back. "I'm not going to hurt you," Dean told him quietly. "Just...let me help you."
"How?" Castiel asked before he could stop himself. What happened to being somewhat afraid of Dean for being a freaking dragon? Suddenly he didn't really care that Dean wasn't human. All doubt faded from his mind, because Dean had saved him. Dean had held onto him, hadn't let go, and had let him feel the joy of being weightless for a few brief moments of wonder. Dean was his friend. He wasn't bad just because he was a dragon.
"Can you just...trust me on this? Just for right now?" Dean asked somewhat timidly, looking away as he averted his gaze toward the ground.
Castiel blinked at him, frowning. Had he really reacted so badly before that Dean honestly thought he didn't trust him? "I trust you," he murmured softly, nodding his head as though confirming the fact for himself.
Dean looked up, as though a little shocked, and then smiled warmly. He stepped closer to Castiel, slowly at first, but then he seemed to regain his confidence. His hand came up to rest gently against Castiel's cheek. In his shock, he didn't even bother to shift away as Dean's unique warmth began to consume him, warming his face and soothing the aches of his head.
Like magic, he felt his busted lip heal, no longer sore or swollen or anything. He could practically feel his bruises disappearing, the tender flesh invigorated, refreshed, and no longer sore, just like his lip. He stared at Dean, into those fiery red eyes that had seemed to strange before, but now simply made a calming feeling come over him. Dean's wings hung limply from his back, yet also so sturdy in their fiery glow.
"W-What did you just do?" Castiel murmured as Dean pulled his hand away and that warmth left him. "What happened? How did you...?"
Dean shrugged slowly. "Like you said," he said, "I'm a dragon." He looked at the ground as though ashamed.
Castiel swallowed and stepped toward Dean as the dragon stepped back, flinching somewhat as though he half-expected Castiel to strike him. "Dean...I'm so sorry...for earlier. I shouldn't have reacted like that, I know that now. So what if you're...a dragon?" He shook his head. "You're my friend...and you saved my life...that's all that matters. You're not any different just...because you're a dragon."
Dean's fiery eyes raised to meet his. "Honest?"
"Honest," Castiel told him, smiling faintly. "So...what did you do to my face? How?"
Another shrug. "I'm a dragon. Dragons have - and are half created by - magic. It comes with the whole dragon thing, I guess, I don't know. I just know I can heal people, sometimes...it's why Sammy never gets sick." A brief, fond smile crossed Dean's face, probably in thought of Sammy, or Sam, who Castiel knew was Dean's little brother from their conversations at school. "Does it...bother you?" Dean asked timidly.
Castiel certainly wasn't used to Dean behaving as such, as at school, he was usually always so confident in himself and in others. Now he seemed uncertain and Castiel knew that was partially his fault for reacting as he had. "Not really," he finally replied, sighing. Then he frowned. "What happened? Earlier, I mean...in the car."
A hooded look came over Dean's face. "I don't know. But I know I don't ever want it to happen again."
"So that wasn't...common?"
"No. Why would it be?"
"Well, Elizabeth...when I called her...acted like she knew what was happening, what was going on. She told me not to get too close to you...I was confused at first, but...then you kinda zapped me..."
Dean winced. "Yeah, sorry about that...I couldn't control it." His hands flexed at his sides. "I don't know what happened...but it seems to be gone now. I'm in control again. I hope that never freaking happens again."
Castiel nodded slowly. "Same here." He could remember the worry and fear he'd felt at Dean's strange, weak, pained behavior in the car. "Do you think Elizabeth knows?"
Dean shrugged. "I haven't seen her...I, um...left the car and flew around for a while...and I think I blacked out. Then when I woke up, I heard you shouting for help and went to investigate." He paused. "You're lucky I woke when I did, Cas. You should be more careful."
Castiel nodded. "Noted. You too. You don't need to be blacking out while flying."
Dean smirked faintly. "Very true." He shook his head. "You wanna tell me how you got those bruises and why you were out there in the first place?"
Castiel's first instinct was to say no, that nothing was wrong and he was fine, but Dean had obviously just healed him so he would certainly know that was a load of crap. The dragon had just saved his life, after all - so didn't he owe him some truth? "My dad..." he murmured finally, looking down at the ground. "He, um...got drunk. Hit me...I ran. Then I slipped and fell and...that's where you found me."
Dean paused. "Why don't you tell someone? The police? I'm sure they could help you."
Castiel shrugged. "It's not always bad. And why? What would the point me? What are they going to do? I'm almost eighteen. Then I'll be free to do as I want."
Dean paused. "I guess so." He shook his head. "But you still shouldn't have to go through that..." He sighed heavily. "How about this...if you really don't mind that I'm a dragon and you still want to be my friend...then why don't you come to my place when you think he's in a hitting mood or drunk? Sound okay?"
Castiel hesitated. "Are you serious?"
"Do I look like I'm kidding?"
"...For real? You'd let me...do that? After how I..."
"Trust me, I'm sure a lot of people would have reacted way worse than you." Dean shook his head. "I was kind of expecting it...I mean, if someone ever found out, I knew they would...react badly." He shrugged. "But whatever. I don't care. I am what I am, right? Anyway, yeah, you can come to my place any time. I'll tell Elizabeth not to hassle you or anything."
Castiel nodded slowly. "...Thanks, Dean."
Dean grinned at him. "No problem, Cas. Do you want me to take you home, or my place, or...?"
Castiel swallowed, suddenly finding it hard to speak. "Can we just...stay here for a while?"
"If that's what you want," Dean said with a shrug. "It's Friday so I don't have a particular time to be home. My cell is still in my car, though...but I'm sure Elizabeth knows I'm flying or something, since you said she sort of knew what to do or say or whatever." He sighed heavily. "This dragon business isn't all that fun."
Castiel nodded. "I see. You really don't mind...staying here with me?"
"Why would I?" Dean seemed genuinely confused.
"I don't know...I just..." He shook his head, feeling a faint blush darken his cheeks as he turned away so Dean wouldn't see. "Never mind. Thanks, again."
"No problem." Dean sat at the water's edge, his wings disappearing into his back, the fiery glow in his eyes dispersing into that bright green he usually had. Castiel blinked at him in confusion.
"How do you do that?" he asked, sitting next to Dean. "Does it hurt?"
"What? Put my wings in?" At Castiel's nod, Dean shrugged. "I don't know, I haven't really thought about it, I guess. I just will them to go away and they do. It's natural to me, I guess."
Castiel nodded and then looked out over the water, enjoying the moment.
And even though he never would have thought he would ever be sitting this close to a fire dragon, he couldn't think of anywhere else he'd rather be.
So...good, bad? Love it, hate it? Like it? lol please let me know! I might change the ending or something, I'm not sure yet. Also, I apologize in advance for any typos. Thanks again and please review!
~Muffy the Dough Slayer~