AN: Hey guys. Hopefully this chapter will be a better length. Much like my other fanfic, it includes a mini-story sort of. In a different way.
To show how much I appreciate your reviews, I'm going to respond to them. All of them. All the way back from chapter 1. Except for repeats or "Wow can't wait for more! Don't read the responses if you don't want to.
jokergirl94: More Than Words is by The Extreme. It's beautiful. I'm currently trying to re-teach it to myself on the guitar. It's a challenge.
Pyro42x: Thanks! I didn't even think about the interaction between Meg and Cas until Goodbye Stranger. My mind was blown when I found out they had a ship. And I kinda half ship it. Just the whole "unicorn" thing. It was too adorable to resist.
Pyro42x: You'll see where I'm going with the Impala thing. Maybe soon. We'll see.
catchthegoldensnitch7: Thanks! I always feel like them calling each other pet names is a little OOC. I mean, it's frikkin adorable, but there you have it. Both Dean and Castiel have always seemed like men of action to me.
despntiel: All will be well soon enough, my dear.
catchthegoldensnitch7: Yeah, I feel you. Indian style sounds weird. I'm glad you like the term I used. Dean can't stay mad at Cas for too long. I'll make it as long as I can but I don't want to stretch it out unnecessarily. And don't worry, I enjoy a happy ending.
JPS: Thanks! I hate when people ruin a character or make them bitchy just because the get in the way of their ship.
MissNica: Thanks! The deaf!Dean high school AU was requested by maggiemoooo.
NOW ONWARDS TO THE STORY!
Chapter 9
Castiel flattened his white button down and straightened his tie as he approached Dean in the hallway. A few months had passed since the whole debacle. Dean had continued ignoring Cas's attempts at apologizing, though never as extremely as he had the first day. He just had stared resolutely forwards as the notes piled on his desk every day. Castiel took every feeling he put into each one of those notes and applied it to making things right.
Cas shook himself out of his memories of the past few months. He steeled himself with a deep breath, reaching out to grab Dean's shoulder. The boy whipped around, startled, his surprised expression turning to a glare when he saw Castiel. He yanked his shoulder away from Cas's hand, flipped him off, and turned to walk down the hallway. Cas grabbed his arm and pulled him back around.
That's not the only sign language I understand, Castiel signed, trying to hide his smirk as Dean's jaw practically dropped to the floor.
You know how to sign? Dean's green eyes were wide with shock as his fingers fumbled in his haste to respond.
I learned. For you.
Suddenly, Dean's eyes hardened. That doesn't magically make things better between us.
I know.
Just because you learned sign language doesn't mean I can trust you again.
I know. But I thought it would help. Will you let me explain?
After a few moments of consideration, Dean nodded, his jaw tight.
I understand why you're so hurt, Cas began. He had rehearsed what he was going to say, but it didn't make it any easier. You trusted me, and I betrayed you.
You're not exactly making me feel better, Dean interrupted. However, his chest warmed slightly at the realization that now, thanks to Castiel, he could interrupt.
Can I finish? Castiel raised an eyebrow, giving Dean an almost chastising look. Dean ducked his head sheepishly, motioning for Cas to continue.
Meg had feelings for me, and I didn't realize it, Castiel went on.
I'm sorry, but you didn't notice? Dean couldn't help but interrupt again. She was coming on even stronger than I was.
Castiel stared at Dean pointedly.
Sorry, sorry, go on, Dean signed.
As you know, I had no sexual attraction to her. Castiel blushed. He was still not entirely comfortable with the idea of sex, and was nowhere near as flippant about it as either Meg or Dean. When she discovered I asked you out, she was hurt and tried to explain her feelings. I refused to believe her. I think I was mostly afraid of puncturing the bubble that surrounded her and me in our perfect world. To prove her point, she kissed me. As you're well aware, that's when you walked in.
Dean's jaw tightened as memories of the rejection and hurt washed through him.
I promise you, Castiel continued, neither of us meant any harm to you. Meg had grown desperate in proving her affections, and I had grown desperate in deflecting them. We've worked it out, however. There are no romantic intentions between either of us.
You're still friends with her. Dean's expression told Castiel it was a statement, not a question.
Yes. And I've been trying to make this whole disaster up to you. Thanks to her, I believe have. It was her idea I learn sign language. But she helped with something more. I'd really love to show it to you, if you don't mind.
Castiel's blue eyes were hopeful and apologetic. Dean chewed on his lip, unsure.
Fine, Dean signed eventually. But I can't promise I'll forgive you.
Cas nodded excitedly. He held a hand out, silently asking for Dean's. After a moment's hesitation, Dean complied. Castiel led him down the hallway and out the door to the parking lot. The energy on Castiel's face combined with the light pressure of his hand in Dean's made it hard for Dean not to smile. They climbed into Castiel's Impala and were out of the lot in no time.
When they got to Castiel's house, Castiel helped Dean out of the car, stepping behind him and placing a hand over his eyes. Dean tensed, now robbed entirely of sight and sound, but relaxed slightly when Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him forward into the house.
Castiel removed his hand, and Dean had to blink repeatedly against the sudden brightness. Sitting on a table in front of Dean was a sketchbook. He reached for it hesitantly, Castiel nodding encouragingly next to him.
The first page contained a few words, written in carefully inked calligraphy.
I know you appreciate art, and I understand why. I, on the other hand, find comfort in words. As of late, though, I've seen how the two complement each other, giving them a magnitude that cannot be achieved when each stands alone.
Dean turned the page with trembling fingers. The left hand page had a painting, while the right hand page had more of Castiel's elegant calligraphy. Dean's eyes moved over the painting, drinking it in.
There was a single figure, the silhouette of a man, plain and gray, curled in a ball on the floor. Its arms were wrapped around its legs, its head resting on its knees. A tine white space surrounded the figure. Outside of the small circle of protection, dozens of grinning beasts lay waiting, each one blood red.
Once upon a time, you were alone and afraid. Anyone and everyone was a threat, another potential opportunity for pain. You put up a barrier that no one challenged.
Dean turned the page quickly, eager for more. The next drawing showed the same figure, this time with a bright blue winged figure hovering over it. The gray man's body now had some pale blue in it too, the brightest area being his shoulder, where the angel's hand was placed. Already, the snarling creatures in the background were fading to a soft red.
Even from the beginning, I think you painted me in your mind as an angel. I was your angel, the first to even attempt to break down your walls. And I found it was easy, that you were craving companionship just as much as I was.
Dean flipped the page more slowly this time, his chest full of warmth, yet aching.
Now, the two figures were in the air, flying above the beasts, which had now paled to a light pink. Both figures were bright yellow now, the original suspended in the air by his angel.
I'd like to think we made each other better, you and I. We didn't just survive; we lived. We thrived.
The dull ache in Dean's chest grew as he realized what had to come next. Sure enough, the next page showed the angel hovering alone in the air, no longer yellow, but blood red, like the monsters from the first page. It too was grinning, showing sharp pointed teeth. The wings looked more angular, like that of a bat. The first figure was now pure black, and falling through the air. Directly beneath him was a pit filled with flames, lower than the original ground. The black figure's hands reached out for the angel, but the angel had turned away. The opposite page contained only one sentence.
Your angel became a demon.
Dean turned the page quickly again, not wanting to be reminded of the moment any more than necessary. The next painting showed two different places, separated by a jagged line down the middle of the page. The demon and the man sat in positions very similar to that on the first page, facing away from each other in a near-fetal position. Both silhouettes were black. This time, instead of the stalking beasts waiting for them, they were both entirely alone, surrounded only by empty whiteness. The demon still grinned ferociously, but tears slid down its face. Blood trailed down its back where its wings had once been.
We were both ruined. I would say I could only imagine the pain I put you through, but that's not true. I know that anguish, I've experienced it firsthand. I think that's the worst part of all this.
Dean took a deep breath to steady himself before turning to the next page.
The demon was now simply a man, with bandages on his back to cover the wounds from the lost wings. He stood over the first figure, who was still curled in his original position from page one. The second man's arm was extended, waiting for the first one to take his hand.
I'd like to start over, not as an angel, not as a demon, but as a man. I've seen the battlefield, just like you, but my wounds are healing. I hope yours can, too.
Beneath the neat calligraphy was another note. This was written in Castiel's normal handwriting, both neatly imperfect and imperfectly neat.
The rest of this sketchbook is empty. Our story isn't over, and I don't know what will happen next. The rest is for you to fill in as we go along, if you want. I know my artwork is nowhere near as spectacular as yours, but I hope you appreciate it all the same. Yours, Castiel.
Dean closed the sketchbook slowly, his fingers tracing the edges. He kept his eyes down, sorting through the emotions swirling up inside him. Part of him felt raw and hurt, the betrayal still fresh in his mind. But as he looked down at the book in front of him, the sharp holes in his chest began to dull and close. Eventually, he looked up to find Castiel's blue eyes watching him nervously.
I still have feelings for you, Castiel signed quickly. But I know what I did, and I've learned recently that losing a friendship isn't worth it. I'm ready to be whatever you need.
Can I have a pencil, please? Dean signed back. Castiel furrowed his brow in confusion, but complied. Dean flipped to the next page in his new sketchbook, quickly sketching. When he was done, he handed the book to Cas.
Castiel examined the sketch, still confused. Even having been done in a matter of seconds, the drawing was exquisite. The two figures sat facing each other, each leaning forward towards the other. Their lips met in the middle. Castiel whipped his head up quickly, a question forming on his lips.
Instantly, Dean's mouth was on his. At first, Castiel's eyes widened in surprise, but they quickly fluttered shut as Dean's lips opened against his own. He lost himself in the kiss, his fingers moving to thread themselves into the hair at the base of Dean's neck. He responded to Dean's eager lips with an urgency of his own, gasping as Dean pulled him closer with a hand around his tie.
Eventually, they broke apart, gasping for air. Castiel's hair was ruffled, his face flushed, his lips pink and swollen.
So… Cas signed. Is that a yes?
Dean rolled his eyes with a grin, yanking Cas down by his tie for another kiss.
AN: Woo! I'm thinking one more chapter, sort of epilogue-ish. I hope you enjoyed. If anyone wants to fanart this *COUGH COUGH HINT HINT WINK WINK NUDGE NUDGE* feel free.