OMG, I'm so, so sorry this story seems to have fallen by the way side! I knew exactly where I wanted it to go, but not exactly how, and then I got suckered in to other stories, and now they're about to start season 12 with an idea I had when I came up with this sequel/Dean's angelic powers. Well, kind of. I mean, Dean's not an angel, but what he's about to do is kind of what Amara just did ... this is my punishment for not updating this story enough! I am back on it though, even though I know it's not going to be as good/smutty as the original ;)
Sam was eyeing Dean warily as they sat at that small table. Castiel assumed it was after the knowledge that Dean had tried to kill him, although it may have been because Dean and Castiel were continuing their mental conversation. They hadn't said a word out loud since Dean had appeared in the doorway; they hadn't needed to for themselves. But Sam and Becky were both looking at them with the same judgemental expression which only highlighted the differences between their true faces. Becky's unblemished, innocent, naive facade; Sam's demon-blood-damaged mess of soul, both managed to convey the exact same emotion. Castiel swallowed around a lump in his throat, and made himself talk out loud. Becky and Sam deserved to hear it all.
"So, you can see people's souls, as well as my grace?"
You know that, Cas.
Gabriel fused us together through our graces, Dean, Sam and Becky weren't included in that deal. And maybe you should answer because I think Sam's going to get annoyed.
"Yeah," Dean grunted, shifting in his seat, hunching his shoulders together as he leaned heavily on the table, still glaring at Sam.
"And what, my soul is …" Sam frowned. "It's complete, isn't it? You got it all out of the cage?"
Castiel nodded.
"So, what's wrong then? Why did you want to kill me?"
Sam gave his brother one of his most endearing expressions. Brows high, eyes wide, a slight pout to his mouth. His please-don't-hurt-me-I'm-so-innocent face. Castiel was used to it, the way you could see one of his eyes that way, the way his jowls seemed to hang just that much further down. But clearly it was hard for Dean to take. He closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
I don't think I can tell them.
Dean sounded so resigned, and Castiel felt his heart thrumming in his chest. He closed his fingers around Dean's wrist, trying to be reassuring.
"I'd never really considered it before, Sam, but … your soul is tainted. It's probably always been that way. It has been since I've known you, anyway. The influence of the demon blood, it shows on your soul."
There was a silence in the room, as Sam and Becky both processed what Castiel was telling them. Castiel could hear the hum of the fluorescent light above them as they tried to understand.
"There's nothing you could have done, Sam. The first time Azazel fed you his blood, it started warping your soul. It took me a long time to get used to how it looked, to see past it to the good behind the damage. I didn't quite realise … I should have known … whenever I've become human, it's been easier to see the real you, I stopped seeing how the demon blood ruined you. Even when I have my powers back, I don't see it any more." Castiel shot a sideways look at Dean, but he knew already that he was allowed to carry on. "I should have warned Dean, prepared him for it. That's my fault."
There was another stretch of silence, at least in the kitchen.
So, it's going to get easier? Looking at Sam?
I hope so.
I can't … Cas, I practically raised him. And now he's a mess. I want to hurt whoever did this to him.
If it gives you comfort, Dean, you killed him.
"I haven't had any demon blood for ages," Sam finally spoke, his voice shaky.
"It doesn't matter. You had some, some was enough." Castiel rubbed his thumb across Dean's wrist, massaging the hard knot at the top, as though he could give some comfort to both brothers with that one small action.
"I need some air," Dean finally spoke, and disappeared from the spot before Castiel could hear him think another word. His hand dropped heavily on the table, and he looked down at it, wondering what he was meant to do now. Sam sat back in his seat, the chair protesting slightly as he did so, running his hands through his hair as he tried to deal with what was going on. Becky was biting her lip, watching Sam avidly.
"What's he thinking?" Sam asked, his hands full of his hair.
"That he wanted to hurt Azazel all over again."
Sam nodded slowly, and tipped his head far back.
"He's accepting that it's you, that's a step forward," Castiel pushed on, hoping he wasn't making the younger Winchester angry. "There's a lot more to him becoming an angel than he really considered. Than I even thought about."
"It's not your fault, Cas," Sam sounded distant, thoughtful, and Castiel could tell how upset he was. "You didn't want this either."
"So, what happens now?" Becky interrupted quietly. Castiel wasn't sure what could happen, he had no idea where Dean had gone. Sam sat up and looked at her, trying to smile, his eyes full of tenderness.
"I guess we try and get him used to me, and hope this doesn't cause more problems."
"I'll keep talking to him," Castiel reassured him. Sam nodded slowly, still looking at Becky.
"Can you try and do it out loud if we're around? It was kind of freaky, how quiet you were."
Castiel nodded, and Sam slowly stood up and stretched, before turning to Becky.
"Maybe we should go home, give Dean a chance to get used to being an angel."
"Couldn't we stay here? I mean," Becky looked quickly at Castiel, before returning her attention to her husband. "When Dean comes home, isn't it better if he gets used to how you look like to him now? I don't want him to forget and threaten you every time we see him."
Sam stroked her hair back, behind her ear, cupping her face gently.
"I don't either. But I think with his new powers, and the wedding planning and everything … maybe he's just not ready for us right now."
He gave a small, sad smile, and Castiel felt awful. No one pointed out that when Sam said 'we', he was clearly talking about himself. He obviously needed the comfort of including Becky in Dean's sudden aversion to him. They stood together, and Castiel followed them through the bunker, wishing that they weren't leaving him. Sam helped Becky into her jacket, and turned back to Castiel.
"Keep us up-to-date, okay? We'll see each other soon."
Sam gave him a hug, squeezing him far too tightly, and Becky gave him a small peck on the cheek before they started walking up the stairs to the front door together, arm-in-arm. Castiel watched them go, feeling a little bereft. Sam and Becky didn't want to be there, Dean had disappeared, and Castiel was at a loss as to how to go on. He did the only thing he could think of, and began doing more research for the wedding, hoping to find something he liked that Dean would agree was a safe choice.
Castiel had been laying on their bed, studying the ceiling tiles when he felt the shift in the atmosphere that announced Dean's return. Dean was in another part of the bunker entirely, but his thoughts were as clear as if he were pressed against Castiel, whispering in his ear.
Did they leave?
Yes. They said that they were giving you space to adjust, but I think Sam was crushed.
Dean's thoughts were quiet, reflecting on what Castiel had proffered.
No one blames you. Personally, I blame Gabriel.
I guess there's a lot for me to learn, huh?
I can help, you know. Isn't that the point of a relationship?
He heard Dean's amusement, knew he was considering what he had once told Castiel himself.
Where are you?
Bunker.
I'm in bed.
Okay, be there in a minute. I just want to look something up.
Dean's thoughts went back to near silence, and Castiel felt frustrated. Had Dean already learned how to shut him out of his thoughts?
No.
Am I being too needy again?
Always, Cas.
Castiel heard the humour in the response, but no further thoughts, no more emotion from Dean.
Where did you go?
You don't know?
No. I think this connection only stretches so far.
Oh. I thought it was a little less neurotic for a while.
Castiel felt hurt, by Dean's bad joke and the fact that he wasn't talking about what he had been doing. It was almost as though Dean was trying to push him away, trying to deal with his transformation on his own-
Cas, please. Stop. I'm fine. I'm just trying out my powers, seeing what I can do. I came across this plant when I was out there, I just wanted to look it up. Might be good for our wedding, so long as it keeps the guests safe. That is it, okay? Don't be that guy.
I am that guy.
I'll be there in a couple of minutes, okay? And we can fool around.
It went quiet again, and Castiel assumed Dean was continuing to look up the plant he had found. At least he didn't want an argument, not over this.
Although make up sex is always fun.
Don't you have a flower to research?
Dean zapped in on top of Castiel, straddling him, a mischievous look on his face.
Sex with you wins.
I'm so flattered.
Castiel rolled his eyes, but happily pulled Dean down into a kiss, his fingers knotting into Dean's shirt as his fiancé flopped down onto him, pressing him into the mattress. Castiel listened to Dean's thoughts, which were coming fast and muddled, overlapping each other. How beautiful Castiel was with his grace, how good their kisses felt, what he wanted to do right then. For all of Castiel's anxieties, it was a relief to hear Dean so wild, so determined to love him. He put everything he had, every emotion he felt for Dean, into their kiss, their mouths barely able to make contact, their teeth clicking together almost violently, Dean's breath already laboured and his own breathing catching up fast. He almost felt light headed as Dean's fingertips grazed over his abdomen, his skin tingling from the touch, almost recoiling from the intense pleasure he already felt.
All of Castiel's thoughts were consumed with what Dean was doing, with how good it felt, with how much he loved it when they connected like this, their bodies already so insistent that they come together as one that they barely had to think about what to do anymore. Dean was pouring adoration onto him, covering his entire body with sloppy kisses, working his way down to Castiel's cock. And then he got a flashback, to Gabriel talking about how much Dean loved giving head, and he froze. He couldn't do this, as much as he wanted it, as amazing as it felt to have Dean's hot breath and skilled tongue cover him, teasing all his nerve endings. What if Gabriel was still watching, somehow getting off on the idea of their love making?
I don't care. It's kind of hot.
I do, Dean. This should be private, just for us.
He told you he wouldn't watch.
It's still Gabriel.
There was a moment while Dean considered this, resting his head against Castiel's stomach.
I can't go without sex with you.
I don't want to go without sex with you.
So what do we do?
Castiel had no answers.
And for the record, I only like giving you head. You taste like pie.
Not dick pie again.
Totally dick pie again. They need to make banana cream lube.
How is that both disgusting and erotic?
Dean started laughing loudly, taking over his whole body, making the bed shake.
Admit it, you want to taste my banana cream dick too.
