This was totally 95% written via text message emailed to my self because I was so bored somewhere ; hehehe... This chapter is split into two parts. The more deelishous bits will be updated sometime tonight. The song that gets mentioned in here is Dance of Death by Iron Maiden. :U
Castiel didn't believe his eyes, he saw something staring back at him - so intently he felt like he would burn up under the gaze. He knew in the pit of his soul that this was Anyz never mind the pelt draped across the diety's shoulders, or the otherworldy glint to those vivid green eyes. Something tugged embarrassingly in his heart as he looked on at the man who seemingly appeared out of thin air.
"You called, I'm here" The god said gruffly through a mouth of pointed teeth. Castiel would have thought he had inconvenienced the deity, if not for the soft expression on his face. Dean's form was rapidly diminishing back into his most simple human shape. Before the excess of his power was removed, he grabbed the mortal's shoulders. He tipped his nose to the dark haired man's forehead, and dug his claws in.
Startled, Castiel tried to cry out in alarm but his mouth would only work furiously against the arms that held him in an impossibly tight grip, no sound could be heard. Castiel felt no pain where he knew blood was trickling, and his eyes felt blinded by the rush of power curling itself into his chest. He could not see the god's eyes that were glowing a furious forest-green, but he felt a growl rumble through Dean's chest.
What could have been a few heartbeats or a series of days, the forest god released his iron grip on Castiel. Castiel felt the surging of energy diminish. It felt tingling, like the skin would be raised as though burned - but no pain whatsoever. The god crumpled to his knees, the blessing clearly took a toll on him. His eyes were pinpointed into the distance, and he was panting like a wounded animal. He gripped at the mortal and struggled to stand. The last thing he remembered before his thought's turning black was the sensation of being lifted through the air.
It was a quick walk to the only bedroom in the efficiency apartment. Castiel had no trouble lifting the now-human deity into his arms and the few feet to the mattress on the floor. The human yanked off mud soaked boats from the god's feet and painstakingly tucked him in. His gut gave a slight flip from embarrassment, but he did his best to brush it off. He couldn't leave the god, a god who actually gave a shit, to freeze in the middle of his floor thank-you-very-much. Castiel stole a glance as he turned to leave. The shadows made the God's face more angular, somehow making him look smaller amongst the mismatched Goodwill sheets. Castiel's heart gave a violent surge of joy everytime the blankets gave a rise and fall, the small action somehow reassured him that what happened was very much real and he wasn't passed out on a bender somewhere.
Castiel gave one last searching look at the unconscious figure before going to busy himself in the kitchen. He wasn't any help here watching while the other man slept, and he really didn't relish the thought of being caught staring.
If this is what death felt like, then Dean wouldn't mind it so much. Through his swimming thoughts he relished the softness of the bed under him - the woody scent of the pillow underneath his nose. He was warmer than he'd felt in years, the steady hum of prayers in his ear wove their way around his heart, making him sigh out of sheer 's eyes fluttered open, only to be met with oppressive darkness. His eyes rang with ripples of gray and white as they fought to see in the blackness.
The low murmur of worried prayer brushed against his tendril of thought, making Dean's face turn flush. 'Cas,' he thought smugly to himself, "cares". At least until this mortal got bored with spirituality he didn't have to whole up in filthy motels and converse with the roaches. He didn't have to taste death every night in his dreams and wake up to the rotting stench of lipgloss and daddy issues from behind paper thin walls. Dean idly drew a fistful of blanket and held it to his chest. When the time came, he'd die living long enough to be remembered again and fulfilling the needs of others.
By the time his eyes adjusted, a sliver of light peeked from under the door. The telltale cumbersome footfalls gave away Cas' presence outside the door. The god was tensed like a gargoyle at the foot of the mattress. The wildling's green eyes stared wide with an unmistakable feral air. The sight of a filthy half wild man on his bed was almost enough to question his sanity. Almost. Shortly after settling the other man, he studied his tingling arm in the mirror. An animal print, no a bear print, seemed to be formed under red and bloody skin. Castiel couldn't explain it - and as his bigoted preacher liked to say "faith moves in mysterious ways".
Dean's muscles relaxed as he saw the dark haired man carrying a candle, obviously lit in his honor. It stank of gas-station and hooker perfume, but the gesture was appreciated none the less, he felt the little flame flicker in his chest. It melted some of the ferocity out of his movement. His gaze stayed transfixed on Castiel as he sat on the opposite side of the bedroom to sit on a threadbare paisley chair. Dean mimicked the motion, and settled back against the mound of pillows. Castiel picked a stray thread, examining it with a cold alien gaze. He tilted his head slightly as he inspected it, "I needed to say thanks". Castiel's words felt heavy as they slipped from his tongue. "Not many people seem to be listening, -". He paused, realizing that he hadn't been introduced outside of a few sentences in a book.
"Dean. Dean Winchester if you look at my forged birth certificate. Look enough of this chickflick shit," Dean insisted. Castiel's eyebrowns knitted together. In his experience God was supposed to be otherworldly and certainly very against swear words. This god looked as fragile as any other human, sprawled out in some seriously nasty hobo clothes, with a shit eating grin plastered across his face. "Nice to formally meet you then Mr. Winchester. I'm Castiel-" the mortal started, all politeness and airs that he learned in prayer-service back with his father.
"It's Dean or His royal fucking highness. Yeah, Yeah. You're Cas, Castiel - named after an angel by Daddy dearest. Bloodtype O. Can't stand the orange chicken from that place on First Ave," Dean prattled off the list as though he knew Cas his entire life. After catching the shocked look on Cas's face he gave a crooked grin and tapped two fingers over his heart. "You can't hide from a god's eyes".
Castiel surely hoped that he could hide his thoughts at the least, because they were falling into very nonprofessional territory. Cas coughed to cover his embarrassment."I'm surprised you're still here, don't make a mistake I'm very glad you are, but I thought omnipresent things had bigger things then an insignificant speck in NYC," Castiel wondered aloud. The look Dean gave Castiel positively tore his heart broken and bleeding from his chest. The god quickly looked down at his folded palms. "Can't lie, that was some pretty powerful prayers from someone who thinks they're a speck. Truth is, haven't heard anything like it since... Jesus. Yeah jesus is about sums it up." Dean relaxed under Castiel's stunned gaze, and folded his arms under his head.
"I don't have the oomph and pixiedust to just zap myself where I want. When I did earlier to get here, it about killed me," The wildling could almost taste Castiel's worry in the air. "If you don't feel like looking at my ugly mug I can find other places to be," Dean lied. He wouldn't like having to find somewhere in this city to go. Not so soon after being finding someone who believed in him and warming himself on those notions. Cas could easily imagine what gutters Dean slept in dressed like that. He rose to grab clothes from off the clean pile on his dresser. He tossed them to Dean. "I'd appreciate your company for as long as you can tolerate me. For the city, it gets quite quiet up here," he confessed, he turned away feeling the dam break in his chest. "If you go across the hall you'll find Manhatten's smallest shower."
Dean ran his hands over the well worn flannel pajama pants and tank. He pointedly avoided Castiel's gaze to avoid imposing on what clearly seemed like private emotion. "Yeah i don't need to be stankin up your bed anymore,"he mumbled. Dean rose and practically sauntered out of the room, hoping to lift the mood a little, after he closed the bathroom door behind him he heard a stifled giggle. Score one, Winchester.
Cas practically buckled under the strangeness of the day. He changed the mud streaked sheets and put on pajamas to try and coax some sense of normalcy through it all. There was a god probably as old as time showering in his bathroom like it was an everyday thing. Castiel lingered in the hall to listen to what sounded like singing.
My free spirit was laughing and howling down at me
Below my undead body
Just danced the circle of dead
Until the time came to reunite us both
My spirit came back down to me
I didn't know if I was alive or dead
As the others all joined in with me
Castiel wasn't the most well-verse with music, but he could have sworn he heard Lucifer listening to something similar in the past. The heavy thud of soap hitting the floor turned the song into "come here you sunnuvabitch". The image of a very soapy Dean in the shower went quickly to work at turning Cas' cheeks red and sent his heart thudding.
Cas was nursing a beer on a beatup sofa when Dean came in rubbing half dressed and rubbing his hair with one of Cas' only towels. A strange feeling fluttered in Cas' chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol.
"Worse water pressure of my life pal," Dean complained as he dried his torso in the kitchen. "Comes with being 17 stories up in the city," Cas shrugged. Dean reached into the fridge, pulled out another beer, and settled on the other end of the couch like he's been doing in his whole life."I don't know about you, but I am absolutely famished," Castiel asked as he set his empty can down. Dean finished the last dregs of his before setting it down beside Cas'. "I can cook and earn my keep if you want" Dean suggested with an exaggerated wink. Cas fought a blush down that threatened to embarrass him. Dean's ears didn't miss the little prayer of god... hook into his heart, making him reflexively swallow.
"I'd feel much better if you rested," Cas crossed to look into his mostly empty fridge and even emptier cabinets. Suddenly self-conscious he felt the need to explain. "I hate carrying groceries to far up when the elevator isn't very reliable," Castiel trailed off watching Dean pull on a shirt. "Now I know for a fact that NY had the best pizza. You call I'll buy. I hate talking to the pimply faced dorks who always pick up," Dean suggested. Waiting for Castiel answer, Dean started rubbing the stubble under his chin. "O-Of course," Castiel breathed.
Lombardi's Pizza lived up to delivery to their delivery motto of 30 minutes or less, and a very out of breathe delivery man showed up at the door. Dean pulled a wad of crumpled up bills with questionable fluids on them and tossed them to the pizza man who was starting to stare in. He clicked the door shut before the deliveryman could start hitting on him, or turn him into a lampshade.
A feral growl ripped through Dean as he sniffed appreciatively at the pizza. It instantly reminded Cas of what exactly was standing in his kitchen, behind the bravado of cocky grins and beer guzzling was a feral creature just beneath the surface."I wouldn't think, deitys would eat. I assume my presumptions are incorrect?" Castiel asked nervously while fiddled with a pack of paperplates. "I don't gotta as much as you, but by god is it satisfying. Where do you think libations go exactly? " Dean grunted and rubbed his stomach obnoxiously.
It was a bit surreal to be eating fucking pizza with his personal Jesus, and Dean picked up on Castiel's awe quickly, feeling it make his own heart flutter in sympathetic uncertainty. "Years ago there were so many of us. A god for every shrub, disease, need, Clan - you name it," Dean began to explain as he picking oregano from his teeth. "We walked the earth, living the high life, and you know lending our power when we could. Most of us were forgotten when good ole Jesus H. Christ came about. Don't get me wrong, he did a whole lot of good. Just some of his followers went a bit mental on the one-true-god-thing. So us lesser gods were apparently idols and were spurned I moved on, assimilated, I didn't wanna bite the big one just yet." Dean covered his lame finish with a larger-than-usual swig of beer.
The mortal was at a loss for words. He opted for tossing a second slice of meat covered pizza onto Dean's plate."You look dead on your feet, Dean," Castiel fretted. It was the first time the mortal spoke dean's name. Dean couldn't help watching Castiel's lips form the word, he felt Castiel's gaze burn into him. He was saved from an awkward moment by Cas's old school Nokia buzzing on the counter.
Dean leaned to look at it. "Someone named Gabe's calling. You should really replace that hunk of shit," he suggested around a mouthful of pizza. Castiel crossed to his cell. "It serves its purpose. I had a new one, for about a day until some punk robbed me. No one looks twice at this," he sassed. Instead of giving Dean the chance to scoff he hit talk and pressed it to his ear.
"CASSY" came his brother's excited yell that could be heard in the next state over. 'Cassy' Dean mouthed with a smirk. Cas blushed and set down on the couch. Dean grinned to himself and swept the crumbs off the counter, and threw the leftovers in the fridge. He felt pretty damn lucky to be under a roof tonight and he didn't want to be thrown out on his ass because he wasn't pulling his weight.
Dean stared at a single picture on the fridge. A husband and wife stood with their children in front of them. It was dated a few years back. His eyes passed over a girl with red hair, a young man with a lip ring, what he assumed was a young Cas, and a really goofy looking short kid. He reached and touched the tape holding the picture to the fridge, and nearly jumped when Castiel slid behind him.
His chest was to Dean's back, they were pressing perfectly into each other's curves with what should have been practiced ease. Castiel reached over Dean's shoulder to point at the picture. "This is my mother, who passed two years ago. This is in front of the Church of New Beginnings. Over there's Anna and Lucifer. That's Gabriel, I was just speaking with him." Castiel's gravelly voice was soft, and rumbled against Dean's ear making gooseflesh creep up his arms. Castiel stepped back to lean against the counter. "Fond of him?" Dean asked politely, trying to cover the slight shiver that crept over him. "He's always been the most supportive to me. He called to complain about APA style essays," Castiel explained. Dean nodded vacantly, he never indulged in educational pursuits so he was lost as a lamb in the slaughterhouse. "He's training to be a doctor. His 'gentleman' finally set on being a lawyer after waffling about it. He made a point to say he's coming to visit soon." Castiel gave him an apologetic look, not wanting to spring family on top of all this insanity. Dean only shrugged, unphased. Stranger things certainly have happened to Dean Winchester.