Vi veri veniversum vivus vici 16/19
AN: Again beta'd by the marvellous citizencandy
Dean knew he had been childish. What would waiting another hour or two accomplish? It just gave Sam all the more reason to try to talk Dean into admitting his undying gay love for Castiel. Damn, put like that it sounded even more ridiculous.
As soon as it got dark, then he'd talk. Yeah. He'd join Castiel once more and talk to him. At least that way he didn't have to see the Angel's face.
~*~
Castiel joined them in the cool Navis about an hour before Crowley had to act, once again, as delivery service. They were just debating if it would be pizza or Chinese take away when the Angel stiffly sat down next to Dean.
Crowley watched him carefully - his entire plan relied on the Angel being able to fight Lucifer. He was quite sure he would be able to talk Dean into giving his consent - perhaps not today but soon enough. No, he was more worried about the Angel. He, too, had once been a warrior of God. He knew what they were able to pull off even if already half dead, but this... This was Lucifer! Not only an Archangel but one schooled by millennia spent in hell. He was the ultimate adversary! The only one that could stand off to even Michael.
Crowley expanded his senses, looked behind the material facade of flesh, and straight into Castiel's Grace. It was diminished enough not to hurt his eyes - as expected. He could clearly make out the slices and cuts where the carvings had penetrated his vessel and injured the Angel's Grace. Crowley would need a hell of a lot power to mend those wounds. Clear, white energy was still leaking through each and every cut, draining away Castiel's strength, leaving him weak and tired.
Crowley changed back to his vessel's mundane senses, enhanced by his demonic powers. Although he knew the Angel must be struggling to stay awake, Crowley could hardly spot any signs. Angels truly were stubborn fighters. A small smile sneaked across the Demon's face. Perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone? He faked interest in whatever Sam was currently talking about and once more tapped into his otherworldly powers.
~*~
Although Castiel was tired, it felt good to no longer have to lie in bed. Crowley had been right; they needed to act as soon as possible, so he tried to steer the conversation into the right direction. Planning their next step wasn't something he particularly enjoyed, but it had to be done. Castiel had learned to value Sam and Bobby's input; both humans were very resourceful and even Dean, who tended to act as if he was the dumber counterpart of their little team, had had great ideas in the past.
They were still debating what kind of meal to choose for dinner. And if Castiel had learned one thing, it was that you didn't get concessions from a hungry human. He had to wait at least until this discussion was settled and for the demon to purchase nutrition.
The wooden pews were not exactly comfortable - normally a small nuisance like this would have been ignored, but his borrowed body was already aching so much it tarnished his ability to concentrate. Perhaps it would be best if he returned to the bed and waited until the humans had finished their dinner.
Something warm and sluggish suddenly started to expand in Castiel's chest, spreading towards his limbs and filling them with lead. He felt how his eyes grew heavy, how his thoughts drifted off...
~*~
Dean felt Castiel fidget next to him. The Angel was obviously bored by their discussion but it was very important to decide whether to give the local pizza a try or not. Maybe if he'd clued Cas into their decision-making procedure he would stop acting as if he was about to smite somebody just to prove his point.
Dean noticed Crowley was watching them - the demon was even creepier than the others of his kind - except Alistair. Because nobody out-creeped Alistair other than Alistair himself.
Dean felt Castiel go still next to him, their shoulders touching, as he asked him, "What would you like for dinner, Cas?"
After a few seconds of quiet he added, "Cas? You have to eat, too..."
When there was still no answer he tried again. "Cas?"
Instead of an answer he felt his friend's head settling on his shoulder. Slowly the hunter looked down, dreading the sight he knew he would meet. The Angel‘s eyes were closed, dark lashes resting on pale cheeks. His face was slack, the troubled expression gone, replaced with peacefulness. Castiel's breath escaped his slightly opened mouth in soft snores.
Dean made a surprised movement that made Castiel slide a bit, threatening to topple over and fall to the floor. Quickly he draped an arm around his friend's back, holding the sleeping Angel in place, pressing the slack body to his own.
It took Dean's brain a moment to catch up with the situation before he finally noticed that he was full on cuddling Castiel. A deep blush spread across the hunter's face, swallowing his freckles, nevertheless he didn't withdraw his arm, and instead kept supporting his friend's limp frame and raised his head, ready to face the laughter and humiliation he knew would follow. To his surprise Bobby and Father Ignatius were studying one of the songbooks as if it held the key to preventing Armageddon, Sam was obviously learning each and every item on the Chinese menu by heart and Crowley - the demon was the only one to look directly at them. He seemed... no longer smug but satisfied and gave Dean an encouraging nod towards the door to the priest's chamber.
The hunter looked down again, studying the peaceful expression on his friend's face that caused some kind of warmth to spread inside his chest and wondered how he could possibly carry Castiel to the bed without waking him up in the process.
~*~
When Castiel woke up again it was already dark, the old church was quiet except for the occasional creaking of weathered wood.
He blinked a few times to get rid of the last bit of sleep that made his thoughts sluggish and his movements clumsy. Carefully, he turned on his side, scanning the dark for another body; he somehow knew he would find Dean near. As expected, he caught sight of his friend sitting in the wooden chair, head resting on his chest; he'd fallen asleep in a position that looked painful even to his untrained eyes.
Slowly, he sat up and stood at last, each movement measured and carefully carried out to avoid rousing his friend or inadvertently pulling at his various injuries.
When Castiel finally stood next to Dean, he realized that he had to move the hunter somehow to the bed, too.
The carvings prevented him from using his Grace the way he needed to in order to transport his friend unto the bed. Crowley had told him about the binding spell carved inside his Grace. About this spell and the other one, the one which effectively made him a beacon that announced his presence to anyone who simply knew what to look for. This was another reason he wanted their little group to finally act.
~*~
Dean woke to a tugging sensation. Somebody was trying to lift him up. He heard a low grunt next to his head as the other person finally succeeded in hauling him up and propping him against another warm body; an arm snuck around his waist, efficiently keeping him upright.
Whoever had lifted him up was breathing heavily, smelling like a warm blanket, blissful sleep, contentedness. Dean turned a bit, planning on burying his face in Sammy's shoulder, but instead encountered soft hair that tickled his face. No, this wasn't Sam. This one was way smaller. Still, being half asleep, he really didn't care. The other person was warm, smelt good and felt even better when he wrapped his arms around the other's torso and pressed their bodies together.
When the other person flinched violently and grunted with pain when Dean had hugged the warm body with determination, the hunter suddenly jerked awake. Castiel! He immediately let the other body go.
"Sorry, Cas! Shit... did I hurt you? Why aren't you sleeping anyways?"
"I woke up and saw that you had fallen asleep in a very uncomfortable position. Dean, please join me in bed. It is cold and we both fit..."
"No!" Dean exclaimed almost frantically. He would not repeat the... the incident.
"Dean..."
"No, sorry, Cas. I can't."
"Why?"
"Because... Just because..." He shook his head exasperated with his own inability to voice the truth. Damn, he'd had really planned on telling Cas...
~*~
Castiel didn't need his enhanced senses to see the turmoil raging inside his friend. He could clearly hear fear bleeding through when Dean refused to talk to him.
How was he supposed to understand why he'd been acting so strange lately? How was he supposed to understand when Dean wouldn't tell him what was wrong. Castiel felt once again frustrated, a feeling he had come to know since he had first tried to talk to the eldest Winchester. He still hated it.
He licked his lips, gaze fixed on Dean, thinking about a way to get his friend to finally talk to him. Perhaps...
"Dean, you know I could just read your mind and see what it is that you can't bring to words. But I would prefer it for you to tell it to me." It was a bluff; even with his Grace restored and backed up by the Host once again, he would not be able to simply look at the human's thoughts. Reading his soul was one thing, but his mind was something completely different. It wasn't a lie per se, because Castiel knew spells that could accomplish this very task. But he neither possessed the ingredients nor the power to perform one on-the-fly.
Dean walked over to the bed and sat down with a heavy sigh. "Look, Cas... The point is..."
Castiel joined his friend, sitting down next to him, waiting for him to continue his sentence.
The silence lasted long enough for the Angel to check whether the human had accidentally fallen asleep. Apparently he was still thinking.
"We're friends, Cas, right?"
"I presume we are."
"You don't sound very convinced..."
"I am not entirely sure of my feelings for you."
~*~
Dean felt himself blushing. Something was suddenly constricting his throat which made swallowing near impossible.
"Why, Dean? Why is our... friendship preventing you from giving your consent?"
Crap. Dean cleared his throat, still trying to muster up the courage needed to... Oh, fuck it.
"Cas, I'm not sure about what I'm feeling, too. You know, I really don't wanna talk about stuff like that, leave the heart-to-hearts to the girls... But it's the freakin' Apocalypse and I think I can make an exception - if you don't tell anyone, okay?"
Castiel nodded solemnly, watching Dean closely. Although the hunter couldn't see more than the outline of another body next to him, he knew Cas was staring at him again.
"I've always thought we were friends, but... lately... you see, I've come to care a lot. About you, that is. Probably more than I should. And I... I've... I'm just not sure if it's a bright idea to share a body when you are able to read my thoughts. You might find them disturbing..."
The entire time he was talking, Dean kept his gaze cast down, looking at the black floor beneath his boots. When the soft touch of a hand on his shoulder made him look up again he nearly jumped because Castiel's face was just inches away.
Dean was about to open his mouth to ask a question that was forever lost as suddenly the Angel leaned forward, closing the last few inches and pressing his soft mouth gently against Dean's.
Their first kiss was tender, very innocent and way too short. As they parted again and Dean looked at Castiel and frowned uncertainly; he could see determination in the Angel's eyes despite the lack of light. Determination and devotion. He felt a gentle hand caressing the soft hairs in his nape before he was pulled into their second kiss. It lasted significantly longer.
Dean knew he had been childish. What would waiting another hour or two accomplish? It just gave Sam all the more reason to try to talk Dean into admitting his undying gay love for Castiel. Damn, put like that it sounded even more ridiculous.
As soon as it got dark, then he'd talk. Yeah. He'd join Castiel once more and talk to him. At least that way he didn't have to see the Angel's face.
~*~
Castiel joined them in the cool Navis about an hour before Crowley had to act, once again, as delivery service. They were just debating if it would be pizza or Chinese take away when the Angel stiffly sat down next to Dean.
Crowley watched him carefully - his entire plan relied on the Angel being able to fight Lucifer. He was quite sure he would be able to talk Dean into giving his consent - perhaps not today but soon enough. No, he was more worried about the Angel. He, too, had once been a warrior of God. He knew what they were able to pull off even if already half dead, but this... This was Lucifer! Not only an Archangel but one schooled by millennia spent in hell. He was the ultimate adversary! The only one that could stand off to even Michael.
Crowley expanded his senses, looked behind the material facade of flesh, and straight into Castiel's Grace. It was diminished enough not to hurt his eyes - as expected. He could clearly make out the slices and cuts where the carvings had penetrated his vessel and injured the Angel's Grace. Crowley would need a hell of a lot power to mend those wounds. Clear, white energy was still leaking through each and every cut, draining away Castiel's strength, leaving him weak and tired.
Crowley changed back to his vessel's mundane senses, enhanced by his demonic powers. Although he knew the Angel must be struggling to stay awake, Crowley could hardly spot any signs. Angels truly were stubborn fighters. A small smile sneaked across the Demon's face. Perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone? He faked interest in whatever Sam was currently talking about and once more tapped into his otherworldly powers.
~*~
Although Castiel was tired, it felt good to no longer have to lie in bed. Crowley had been right; they needed to act as soon as possible, so he tried to steer the conversation into the right direction. Planning their next step wasn't something he particularly enjoyed, but it had to be done. Castiel had learned to value Sam and Bobby's input; both humans were very resourceful and even Dean, who tended to act as if he was the dumber counterpart of their little team, had had great ideas in the past.
They were still debating what kind of meal to choose for dinner. And if Castiel had learned one thing, it was that you didn't get concessions from a hungry human. He had to wait at least until this discussion was settled and for the demon to purchase nutrition.
The wooden pews were not exactly comfortable - normally a small nuisance like this would have been ignored, but his borrowed body was already aching so much it tarnished his ability to concentrate. Perhaps it would be best if he returned to the bed and waited until the humans had finished their dinner.
Something warm and sluggish suddenly started to expand in Castiel's chest, spreading towards his limbs and filling them with lead. He felt how his eyes grew heavy, how his thoughts drifted off...
~*~
Dean felt Castiel fidget next to him. The Angel was obviously bored by their discussion but it was very important to decide whether to give the local pizza a try or not. Maybe if he'd clued Cas into their decision-making procedure he would stop acting as if he was about to smite somebody just to prove his point.
Dean noticed Crowley was watching them - the demon was even creepier than the others of his kind - except Alistair. Because nobody out-creeped Alistair other than Alistair himself.
Dean felt Castiel go still next to him, their shoulders touching, as he asked him, "What would you like for dinner, Cas?"
After a few seconds of quiet he added, "Cas? You have to eat, too..."
When there was still no answer he tried again. "Cas?"
Instead of an answer he felt his friend's head settling on his shoulder. Slowly the hunter looked down, dreading the sight he knew he would meet. The Angel‘s eyes were closed, dark lashes resting on pale cheeks. His face was slack, the troubled expression gone, replaced with peacefulness. Castiel's breath escaped his slightly opened mouth in soft snores.
Dean made a surprised movement that made Castiel slide a bit, threatening to topple over and fall to the floor. Quickly he draped an arm around his friend's back, holding the sleeping Angel in place, pressing the slack body to his own.
It took Dean's brain a moment to catch up with the situation before he finally noticed that he was full on cuddling Castiel. A deep blush spread across the hunter's face, swallowing his freckles, nevertheless he didn't withdraw his arm, and instead kept supporting his friend's limp frame and raised his head, ready to face the laughter and humiliation he knew would follow. To his surprise Bobby and Father Ignatius were studying one of the songbooks as if it held the key to preventing Armageddon, Sam was obviously learning each and every item on the Chinese menu by heart and Crowley - the demon was the only one to look directly at them. He seemed... no longer smug but satisfied and gave Dean an encouraging nod towards the door to the priest's chamber.
The hunter looked down again, studying the peaceful expression on his friend's face that caused some kind of warmth to spread inside his chest and wondered how he could possibly carry Castiel to the bed without waking him up in the process.
~*~
When Castiel woke up again it was already dark, the old church was quiet except for the occasional creaking of weathered wood.
He blinked a few times to get rid of the last bit of sleep that made his thoughts sluggish and his movements clumsy. Carefully, he turned on his side, scanning the dark for another body; he somehow knew he would find Dean near. As expected, he caught sight of his friend sitting in the wooden chair, head resting on his chest; he'd fallen asleep in a position that looked painful even to his untrained eyes.
Slowly, he sat up and stood at last, each movement measured and carefully carried out to avoid rousing his friend or inadvertently pulling at his various injuries.
When Castiel finally stood next to Dean, he realized that he had to move the hunter somehow to the bed, too.
The carvings prevented him from using his Grace the way he needed to in order to transport his friend unto the bed. Crowley had told him about the binding spell carved inside his Grace. About this spell and the other one, the one which effectively made him a beacon that announced his presence to anyone who simply knew what to look for. This was another reason he wanted their little group to finally act.
~*~
Dean woke to a tugging sensation. Somebody was trying to lift him up. He heard a low grunt next to his head as the other person finally succeeded in hauling him up and propping him against another warm body; an arm snuck around his waist, efficiently keeping him upright.
Whoever had lifted him up was breathing heavily, smelling like a warm blanket, blissful sleep, contentedness. Dean turned a bit, planning on burying his face in Sammy's shoulder, but instead encountered soft hair that tickled his face. No, this wasn't Sam. This one was way smaller. Still, being half asleep, he really didn't care. The other person was warm, smelt good and felt even better when he wrapped his arms around the other's torso and pressed their bodies together.
When the other person flinched violently and grunted with pain when Dean had hugged the warm body with determination, the hunter suddenly jerked awake. Castiel! He immediately let the other body go.
"Sorry, Cas! Shit... did I hurt you? Why aren't you sleeping anyways?"
"I woke up and saw that you had fallen asleep in a very uncomfortable position. Dean, please join me in bed. It is cold and we both fit..."
"No!" Dean exclaimed almost frantically. He would not repeat the... the incident.
"Dean..."
"No, sorry, Cas. I can't."
"Why?"
"Because... Just because..." He shook his head exasperated with his own inability to voice the truth. Damn, he'd had really planned on telling Cas...
~*~
Castiel didn't need his enhanced senses to see the turmoil raging inside his friend. He could clearly hear fear bleeding through when Dean refused to talk to him.
How was he supposed to understand why he'd been acting so strange lately? How was he supposed to understand when Dean wouldn't tell him what was wrong. Castiel felt once again frustrated, a feeling he had come to know since he had first tried to talk to the eldest Winchester. He still hated it.
He licked his lips, gaze fixed on Dean, thinking about a way to get his friend to finally talk to him. Perhaps...
"Dean, you know I could just read your mind and see what it is that you can't bring to words. But I would prefer it for you to tell it to me." It was a bluff; even with his Grace restored and backed up by the Host once again, he would not be able to simply look at the human's thoughts. Reading his soul was one thing, but his mind was something completely different. It wasn't a lie per se, because Castiel knew spells that could accomplish this very task. But he neither possessed the ingredients nor the power to perform one on-the-fly.
Dean walked over to the bed and sat down with a heavy sigh. "Look, Cas... The point is..."
Castiel joined his friend, sitting down next to him, waiting for him to continue his sentence.
The silence lasted long enough for the Angel to check whether the human had accidentally fallen asleep. Apparently he was still thinking.
"We're friends, Cas, right?"
"I presume we are."
"You don't sound very convinced..."
"I am not entirely sure of my feelings for you."
~*~
Dean felt himself blushing. Something was suddenly constricting his throat which made swallowing near impossible.
"Why, Dean? Why is our... friendship preventing you from giving your consent?"
Crap. Dean cleared his throat, still trying to muster up the courage needed to... Oh, fuck it.
"Cas, I'm not sure about what I'm feeling, too. You know, I really don't wanna talk about stuff like that, leave the heart-to-hearts to the girls... But it's the freakin' Apocalypse and I think I can make an exception - if you don't tell anyone, okay?"
Castiel nodded solemnly, watching Dean closely. Although the hunter couldn't see more than the outline of another body next to him, he knew Cas was staring at him again.
"I've always thought we were friends, but... lately... you see, I've come to care a lot. About you, that is. Probably more than I should. And I... I've... I'm just not sure if it's a bright idea to share a body when you are able to read my thoughts. You might find them disturbing..."
The entire time he was talking, Dean kept his gaze cast down, looking at the black floor beneath his boots. When the soft touch of a hand on his shoulder made him look up again he nearly jumped because Castiel's face was just inches away.
Dean was about to open his mouth to ask a question that was forever lost as suddenly the Angel leaned forward, closing the last few inches and pressing his soft mouth gently against Dean's.
Their first kiss was tender, very innocent and way too short. As they parted again and Dean looked at Castiel and frowned uncertainly; he could see determination in the Angel's eyes despite the lack of light. Determination and devotion. He felt a gentle hand caressing the soft hairs in his nape before he was pulled into their second kiss. It lasted significantly longer.