Every Night (Oneshot)
Rating: PG-13
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel pre-slash
Spoilers: through 8x02
Warnings: None
Word Count: ~2,000
Summary: Dean prays. And works through some baggage before he runs into Benny.
Castiel, you stupid sonovabitch.
S'your damn fault in the first place, all of this. I warned you, but no, you had to put on daddy’s shoes and faceplant climbing the stairs. Do you have any idea how hard we fought to clean up your mess, while you were dead or re-enacting Eternal Sunshine or whatever the hell happened?
Oh right, you don’t, because you weren’t there for damn near all of it.
So how’s the weather in your neck of the woods? Bad, I hope. Don't worry about me, by the way. I’m peachy. Minor blood loss, broken rib… oh, and I feel like I've been through the spin cycle in a clothes dryer full of rocks. No big deal. Not like I could use an insta-heal or anything.
Should’ve known you’d skip out on me. Wouldn’t be the first time, that’s for damn sure. Here I was thinking I could trust you again, put the whole wannabe-god thing behind us, and you turn tail the second our feet hit the dirt. It’s friggin’ déjà vu at this point.
All right, maybe I’m not being fair. Maybe you sensed a disturbance in the force. Maybe you were grabbed by some evil nasty, and you’re busy trying to survive, same as me. ‘Course, I doubt it would kill you to drop by for five seconds and tell me that.
Fair warning. I’m coming for you, one way or another. And you better be half-mauled when I find your sorry ass.
…Where are you?
***
I am beyond pissed right now. Spent six hours tracking a werewolf, but the thing was stuck in permanent beast mode. Not great with words. Most of them aren’t great with words, actually. And then I wasted another chunk of my life interrogating a vamp. I was so sure it knew something. The way it looked at me when I mentioned an angel…
Whatever. Either I was wrong, or the bastard took the info to his grave.
None of these ugly chuckleheads seem to know anything about you. I’ve sliced my way through dozens of ‘em and I have jacksquat to show for it. I'm beginning to wonder if you're dead, which honestly? I'd resurrect you just to gank you for that. You owe me, man. You don't get to die yet.
***
Ground control to Major Tom.
Starting to think I'm talking to myself. Can you even hear me in this shithole? Dunno if the rules are different here. If I'm just shouting into the void. Sure feels that way some days. Okay, most days.
So it turns out wounds heal faster here, and I’m never really hungry, which let me tell you is downright strange. And this morning I ran into something slimy and eight feet tall that almost ripped my arms off. That was new. But I cut off its head, which seemed to work all right.
Amen, I guess.
***
Cas, please. You gotta hear me. There's... there are these things. Never seen one before, never even heard of them, and now I run into three. Teeth as long as my arm. I'm pinned down in a ditch. Gully? What's the difference, anyway? Only one has tree-hugging fairies?
…Damn, I think they're tracking me. Scenting my blood. My ankle’s twisted or fractured or something. Hurts to put weight on it. Can’t run anymore. Can't hardly breathe.
Oh shit, I hear them. Please, Cas. I could really use a wingman right now.
It’s so dark. I think they’re surrounding me. I wouldn't even see them-
Sonovabitch, no, no, ah! Get off. Shit, shit, fucking ow, oh God…
Cas! Cas, please!
***
Hey, Cas.
Screw you. If I never see your face again, it’ll be too soon.
***
So last night… I didn't mean that.
Well, I did. But not, uh. Permanently. Kinda hard to get a grip on perspective when half my leg’s torn to shreds. I’m sure you understand, what with the Leviathan chestbursters and all.
I mean, you could be stuck fighting some mean-ass monsters. I haven’t ruled that out yet. Or your brains could still be scrambled, for all I know. I sure hope not, because pacifism and staying alive are mutually exclusive options here. That and all the bees have a bad case of roid rage. Or maybe you flat out can’t hear me. I mean, you would have answered by now, right?
That’s okay. I’ll find you. I’ll find you and we’ll figure this out.
***
C'mon Cas. If you can hear me, give me a sign. One damn sign. Is that too much to ask? You pulled a disappearing act, I know the angel mojo isn't totally broken.
Well, looks like I got your machine again.
Ha. I sound like a crazy ex. "I called you twenty-six times Cas, why won't you pick up?"
You probably wouldn't know much about that. I've been lucky myself, all things considered. But back when Sam was still playing college boy, I had this one-night-stand in Seattle. I leave her place before morning, crash at the motel, and when dad wakes me up for dinner, my inbox is full. At least a hundred friggin' texts. And this chick, she goes through whatdyacallem... the five stages of grief right in front of my eyes. First ones are like "you must be picking up breakfast, chocolate doughnuts are my fav, winkyface," and then it's like "I've been crying for two hours straight," and finally she gets to "I’m moving on, don't bother calling me."
It was kind of pathetic.
...Please call me back, Cas.
***
Today was a real bad day. And this is coming from someone who’s had nothing but bad days for months, maybe years. I’m talking that split-second hesitation in the middle of a brawl, because wouldn’t it be easier to just…
But then I tell myself, I bet Sammy’s pulling all-nighters right now figuring out how to jailbreak us. Calling contacts, raiding libraries, pinning up a wall with yarn and newspaper clippings, all serial killer-like. He's the research whiz kid, he'll find something. We just got to hold out until he does. Piece of cake, right?
Damn it, now I want cake. I’m so desperate I’d settle for cake, Cas. The Wonder Bread of desserts.
I wish he’d hurry up.
***
So this is a fantastic reward for saving the world. I’m covered in monster guts, you’re still AWOL, and we’re both trudging through a bad remake of Apocalypse Now. Two thumbs up, would save again. Man, sometimes I'm glad your dad skipped town, because if he were still at the wheel I'd know the universe was run by a sadistic bastard.
Wait, I take it back. I do know he’s a sadistic bastard. Why else would he have created all this in the first place, huh? The monsters trying to eat my spleen and their nice little prison dimension?
Why else would he have created us?
***
There’s this thing on my mind lately. An itch I can’t scratch. Nothing to do but walk and fight and think these days, so I twist myself into knots sometimes. More than usual, I mean. And I figure you’re probably not hearing a word of this, so what the hell, right?
I've been thinking about this lame Balthazar one-liner from awhile back.
Okay, so he’s a self-absorbed dick whose first language is sarcasm. I did assume he was joking. But then there was that blonde bitch Hester, and some other stuff with Uriel, and few things you told me before Sam fell down the rabbit hole… I’m starting to feel like all your weirdo feathered friends know something I don’t. Like you know something I don’t.
He called your trench coat dirty, and he… you know what, forget it. Forget I said anything. Pretty sure I’m losing my mind.
Great, now I have Celine Dion stuck in my head.
***
-my heart will go ooooooon aaaaand ooooooooooon.
Not gonna stop ‘till you show, Cas. I can keep this up for a long time. I guarantee it’s hurting me more than you, but I don’t give a damn as long as it hurts you. I will be a friggin’ mosquito in your ear, and you will get so fed up you’ll have to swat.
I swear to God, I’ll break out the ABBA. You don’t want to go there, trust me.
Where was I? Oh, right. You’re heeeeere, there’s nooooothing I fear-
***
Cas. Caaaaaas.
Got stung by a bee, now I’m floating like a butterfly. Heh. Hahaha!
Well, it was more like a huge-ass hornet than a bee. It’s okay, I killed it dead. Now it’s just a… gross-looking smear on a tree. And I can taste the rainbow.
I’m not big on the bugs, but man, this is great. Usually I need upwards of ten shots before I feel this good. If someone could bottle and sell…hey, maybe this is what kicking the bucket’s supposed to feel like. When you go all peaceful in your sleep with false teeth and two dozen grandchildren. I wouldn't know, I’ve only ever died bloody.
Bloody’s such a dumb word. Bloody hell. Haha, would you listen to that? Now I’m British or Australian or something. Blimey, bugger, bloke. What if I just talked like this all the time, Cas? Wouldn’t that be awesome? I bet I could pick up chicks by reading the friggin’ phone book. Why do they keep making phone books, anyway? Seems like such a waste of…
Such a waste…
***
I drunk dialed you yesterday, didn’t I? Sorry ‘bout that.
If it helps, I have the mother of all venom-hangovers now. And I woke up half-naked in a tree. I guess Uriel was onto something with all that monkey talk. It’s a friggin’ miracle nothing ate me. So you better not have laughed. I mean it. If I find out you laughed, I will club you like a baby seal.
If you just smiled, I might let it slide.
***
You were right, you know. I did forgive you. I still do.
***
What’s that saying… insanity is trying something over and over again and expecting a different result? Yeah, I lit that fuse a long time ago. Here I am. Same bat time, same bat channel.
Must be going stir crazy. I don’t know why I keep doing this. I don’t know what to believe anymore. I haven’t for a long time, not since… but it’s sharper here. The dark stuff. When it’s too quiet, all your thoughts sound like shouting.
Not even sure how many days it’s been. I lost track. There’s nothing but trees and more trees. And monsters that your good old-fashioned lions and tigers and bears ain’t got nothing on. I don’t think I’ve slept more than an hour at a time since we got here.
…I’m scared, Cas. Remember how you always used to come when I called? I’m scared about why you aren’t coming, because I’ve been calling on the regular, but I’m still alone.
And I’m so tired.
***
Sometimes I just want to run. Everything hits me at once, and the tiniest sound sets it off. My whole body freezes like some stupid deer in the middle of the highway, and I am this close to bolting. Like when I was a kid, and I had a nightmare, and I’d run down the hall to my parents’ room.
But there’s nowhere safe here. Nowhere to run, except toward you.
Then Sam came along, and I didn’t do that anymore. I had to protect him, you know? And it made me braver than I was, having someone else to look out for. Someone who needed me.
…I miss you, assbutt. I miss you, and I swear I’ll find you. We’ll bust out of here together or not at all.
Stay safe.