Have a Little Faith (Part 7)
Title: Have A Little Faith Part 7
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Rating: PG
Genre: Case Fic
Word Count: ~1700
Spoiler: General season 6
Warning: Profanity (I’m beginning to realize that Dean inspires a lot of profanity in my writing), Mild Violence
Summary: Dean wakes up the day after being resurrected again, and realize he has to face the fact he kissed the angel. Twice.
A/N: This went through so many rewrites because I know where I want to go and just don’t know how to get here. This is the version I liked the best.
Have A Little Faith Masterpost
Dean woke up to the sound of Sam’s fingers rapidly tapping across the keyboard. A second later he heard the sound of the tiny motel coffee pot starting to percolate and he grumpily rolled over to look at the clock. 6:20am?
“God dammit Sammy, at least let me sleep in the day after I die.”
“Sorry. Thought I’d get a head start on research about what the hell we're up against.”
Dean sat up and started rubbing his eyes in an effort to wake up. “According to Cas his name is Paimon and he’s a badass. The jerk that cut my throat was named Bebal. That’s all I got.”
Dean groggily rolled out of bed and headed towards the pot of fresh made coffee. He scoffed at the tiny Styrofoam coffee cup and grabbed the larger glass cup from the counter by the sink. He poured the entire contents of the teeny little coffee pot into the cup.
“Hey!”
“Recently deceased gets first dibs on the coffee, Sammy.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Are you going to use your death against me all day?”
“Yes.” He sat on the foot of the bed and flipped on the TV. “Oh hey, look, a Doctor Sexy marathon.”
Sam groaned. “Recently deceased gets to choose the channel?”
“Yep.”
“Then I might have to kill myself.” Dean ignored him.
A few minutes passed while Sam searched for anything he could find on Paimon. He was considered a ‘King of Hell,’ but he apparently had a rough time possessing a body. There wasn’t much information beyond that, though. The guy didn’t leave Hell often so there just wasn’t much to know.
He spared a glance up at his brother, who had taken to a comfortable reclining position against the headboard of the bed. Dean was absently rubbing his fingers over his shirt just above the scar on his shoulder and Sam wondered if he even realized he was doing it. He’d seen that kiss they’d shared when Castiel resurrected him. It wasn’t exactly a surprise, but getting it out in the open was going to be difficult.
“So, Dean?”
“What?” He looked irritated at being interrupted by the engrossing drama that is Doctor Sexy.
“You met Castiel last night after I passed out?”
“Yeah, I woke up covered in my own blood and felt too gross to keep sleeping. After I showered we grabbed a bite. Why?”
“Are you and Cas ‘a thing’ now?”
“’A thing’? What, are you 12?”
“What, you want me to say ‘relationship’? ‘Boyfriends’? The guy you’re fucking?”
“We aren’t fucking,” Dean turned back to the TV.
“Really?” Dean was usually quick to cut to the chase. “Wait, was that your first kiss last night?”
“’First kiss’?” For a moment he just stared at his brother. Then he threw the nearest thing he could find, which was apparently an old dirty sock, and threw it at Sam.
The younger Winchester batted the sock away before it could smack him in the face. “Well, whatever you want to call it, you guys are… whatever it is?”
Dean looked extremely annoyed now. “Yeah, whatever it is, we are… that.”
“Right.”
Screw the Doctor Sexy marathon. Dean needed air. “I’m going out to breakfast. Alone. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean to-“
“Just,” he held his hand up to cut him off. “Recently deceased gets to take a breather, alright?” He fetched a clean pair of socks from his duffle and put them on. “I’m just rattled from yesterday. I just need to take a drive. Clear my head.” He slipped his shoes on and grabbed his jacket off the hook by the door. “I’ll be back by lunch time.”
“Yeah, ok. Just… do what you need to. I’ll call you if I find something. Sorry if I-”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back later.”
-
Dean had no destination in mind really. He hopped on the freeway and headed east hoping to put some space between him and Flagstaff. He wasn’t mad at Sam. Not really. The situation with Castiel was complicated and he didn't know how to describe it. Even for a hunter, being in a ‘relationship’ (and he hated Sam for putting that word in his head) with an angel of the Lord was a highly unusual state of affairs. There really needed to be an Angel Handbook or something, because he had no idea what he was doing here.
He couldn’t really compare this to any other relationships he’d been in. Most had been one-night stands and every single one of them had been human (as far as he knew anyway). And oh yeah, they’d all been women, too. And ok, he knew the mechanics of sex between two men even if he’d never done it before. He wasn’t really concerned about that part. But he had no idea how far to take it with a frickin angel. As dickish as angels could be, he still saw them as righteous beings. Especially Castiel. And more importantly he trusted Castiel. He actually cared about him.
When he said he had faith in Castiel he truly meant it. Four years ago he would have never considered himself religious, but Cas made him want to pray to him everyday. He didn’t, of course, because that’d probably get annoying to whatever angels were listening. And that was another thing that bugged him. How did his prayers work? If he prayed to Cas, could anyone else hear him? Did he have to shut his eyes? Did he have to verbalize it? Seriously, they needed a fucking Handbook.
When he saw a sign for Historic Route 66 he decided to get off and take it for a stretch. He had a few hours to kill and he could use some good back road driving. With no other cars on the road he could pull over and just have a minute to himself. He liked the idea of it being just him, the desert, the asphalt, and the Impala.
About a mile down the road he found a decently isolated spot and pulled over. He grabbed a beer from the cooler in the trunk and took his familiar place on the hood of his baby. The sun was only starting to rise over the desert landscape and he was glad he got to see this before it became unbearably hot. Heavy jeans and flannel did not jive well with the scorching heat of Arizona.
About a minute into his peaceful Impala Meditation Routine he felt a strange and uncomfortable tight feeling in his chest. This almost felt like… oh shit!
He was flung from the hood of the car and landed face first in the coarse dirt. He got to his feet and looked around for whatever creature was playing telekinetic yo-yo with him. It was that same black haired demon girl from the office building. “Didn’t we kill you already?”
“Different demon, sweetheart.” She clenched her fist and he fell to his knees in pain. Every muscle felt like it was going to explode and he wanted to punch that bitch in the face. Hard. “My name is Abalam. You did, however, kill my sister. You can imagine that’s pissed me off a little.”
He was frozen and in pain and had absolutely no back up. He really only had one option to get out of this. He didn’t want to abuse this privilege, but this was a pretty desperate situation and if he was going to use it now was the time. “CASTIEL!” he shouted. Or maybe it was a prayer. Maybe both.
The was clearly frightened and began backing away from him. Yeah, she recognized the name all right. Suck it. Cas appeared behind her and instantly reached to exorcise her. But she dodged out of the way and disappeared immediately. Clearly Abalam was the smarter of the two demons if he knew to get lost when an archangel made an appearance.
Dean got off the ground and dusted off his jeans. “Bitch! Can you track her?”
“No. Whoever that young woman was, she knew how to work some powerful spellwork.” Cas touched Dean’s forehead, healing him from his brutal collision with the desert floor.
“You mean the demon?”
“No, whoever that black hair woman was is the one who originally summoned this set of demons. It’s why both Bebal and Abalam chose to possess her.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic. Do we know who she is?”
“No, unfortunately.”
Dean spotted his broken bottle of beer a few feet away. What a waste of perfectly good beer. He sighed and shook his head. “We should probably get back to the motel. Sam needs to know about this.”
“What are you doing way out here?”
“I needed time to think.”
“About?”
“Sam already tried that,” he said as he walked back towards the Impala. “There are some things I just don’t talk about. This is one of them.” Cas could have been a total jerk and read his mind, but Dean trusted him not to. And you hear that Cas? If you’re reading my mind right now you better stop.
Dean stopped at the door of his car and looked back to Cas. The angel nodded. Was he listening to that warning? Or was he just agreeing with what he’d verbally spoken? Whatever. It didn’t matter. Dean felt that he had some sense of privacy at the moment even if his emotions were broadcasting to the angel loud and clear. He still hadn’t gotten comfortable with that idea, but at least his thoughts were safe.
“You want to ride back with me? Or did I interrupt some important angel meeting?”
“No, I was going to return soon anyway.”
“Ok.”
He hadn’t even gotten an hour away from the motel when he pulled over, so the ride back was going to be pretty short. When he sat down he immediately called Sam and explained the situation. He wasn’t sure if Castiel used the door or not, but he was beside him in the car and he didn’t really care how he got there.
-
The car ride back had been mostly quiet. His thoughts drifted from the new demons they had on their hands to his whole dying experience yesterday to the fact that he actually never did get breakfast and they should probably stop somewhere. The poor angel must have been confused by his rapidly changing emotions, but he seemed content respecting his privacy at the moment.
He ended up pulling through a drive thru and getting some disgusting breakfast off the menu before driving back to the motel. He hoped Cas didn’t want to sample this particular meal because the guy deserved better.
When he walked through the door Sam shot up from his seat. “You ok?”
“Of course. It was just a demon, Sammy.”
“A demon whose sister killed you yesterday.”
“Yeah, a demon whose sister was vaporized by this guy,” he said as he gestured over his shoulder at Castiel.
“Well, regardless, I’m glad you’re ok.”
“Thanks.” Their little moment of brotherly love was shattered when Dean shoved a greasy bag of fast food at Sam. “Eat up.” Sam sneered, but accepted the bag.
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Rating: PG
Genre: Case Fic
Word Count: ~1700
Spoiler: General season 6
Warning: Profanity (I’m beginning to realize that Dean inspires a lot of profanity in my writing), Mild Violence
Summary: Dean wakes up the day after being resurrected again, and realize he has to face the fact he kissed the angel. Twice.
A/N: This went through so many rewrites because I know where I want to go and just don’t know how to get here. This is the version I liked the best.
Have A Little Faith Masterpost
Dean woke up to the sound of Sam’s fingers rapidly tapping across the keyboard. A second later he heard the sound of the tiny motel coffee pot starting to percolate and he grumpily rolled over to look at the clock. 6:20am?
“God dammit Sammy, at least let me sleep in the day after I die.”
“Sorry. Thought I’d get a head start on research about what the hell we're up against.”
Dean sat up and started rubbing his eyes in an effort to wake up. “According to Cas his name is Paimon and he’s a badass. The jerk that cut my throat was named Bebal. That’s all I got.”
Dean groggily rolled out of bed and headed towards the pot of fresh made coffee. He scoffed at the tiny Styrofoam coffee cup and grabbed the larger glass cup from the counter by the sink. He poured the entire contents of the teeny little coffee pot into the cup.
“Hey!”
“Recently deceased gets first dibs on the coffee, Sammy.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Are you going to use your death against me all day?”
“Yes.” He sat on the foot of the bed and flipped on the TV. “Oh hey, look, a Doctor Sexy marathon.”
Sam groaned. “Recently deceased gets to choose the channel?”
“Yep.”
“Then I might have to kill myself.” Dean ignored him.
A few minutes passed while Sam searched for anything he could find on Paimon. He was considered a ‘King of Hell,’ but he apparently had a rough time possessing a body. There wasn’t much information beyond that, though. The guy didn’t leave Hell often so there just wasn’t much to know.
He spared a glance up at his brother, who had taken to a comfortable reclining position against the headboard of the bed. Dean was absently rubbing his fingers over his shirt just above the scar on his shoulder and Sam wondered if he even realized he was doing it. He’d seen that kiss they’d shared when Castiel resurrected him. It wasn’t exactly a surprise, but getting it out in the open was going to be difficult.
“So, Dean?”
“What?” He looked irritated at being interrupted by the engrossing drama that is Doctor Sexy.
“You met Castiel last night after I passed out?”
“Yeah, I woke up covered in my own blood and felt too gross to keep sleeping. After I showered we grabbed a bite. Why?”
“Are you and Cas ‘a thing’ now?”
“’A thing’? What, are you 12?”
“What, you want me to say ‘relationship’? ‘Boyfriends’? The guy you’re fucking?”
“We aren’t fucking,” Dean turned back to the TV.
“Really?” Dean was usually quick to cut to the chase. “Wait, was that your first kiss last night?”
“’First kiss’?” For a moment he just stared at his brother. Then he threw the nearest thing he could find, which was apparently an old dirty sock, and threw it at Sam.
The younger Winchester batted the sock away before it could smack him in the face. “Well, whatever you want to call it, you guys are… whatever it is?”
Dean looked extremely annoyed now. “Yeah, whatever it is, we are… that.”
“Right.”
Screw the Doctor Sexy marathon. Dean needed air. “I’m going out to breakfast. Alone. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean to-“
“Just,” he held his hand up to cut him off. “Recently deceased gets to take a breather, alright?” He fetched a clean pair of socks from his duffle and put them on. “I’m just rattled from yesterday. I just need to take a drive. Clear my head.” He slipped his shoes on and grabbed his jacket off the hook by the door. “I’ll be back by lunch time.”
“Yeah, ok. Just… do what you need to. I’ll call you if I find something. Sorry if I-”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back later.”
-
Dean had no destination in mind really. He hopped on the freeway and headed east hoping to put some space between him and Flagstaff. He wasn’t mad at Sam. Not really. The situation with Castiel was complicated and he didn't know how to describe it. Even for a hunter, being in a ‘relationship’ (and he hated Sam for putting that word in his head) with an angel of the Lord was a highly unusual state of affairs. There really needed to be an Angel Handbook or something, because he had no idea what he was doing here.
He couldn’t really compare this to any other relationships he’d been in. Most had been one-night stands and every single one of them had been human (as far as he knew anyway). And oh yeah, they’d all been women, too. And ok, he knew the mechanics of sex between two men even if he’d never done it before. He wasn’t really concerned about that part. But he had no idea how far to take it with a frickin angel. As dickish as angels could be, he still saw them as righteous beings. Especially Castiel. And more importantly he trusted Castiel. He actually cared about him.
When he said he had faith in Castiel he truly meant it. Four years ago he would have never considered himself religious, but Cas made him want to pray to him everyday. He didn’t, of course, because that’d probably get annoying to whatever angels were listening. And that was another thing that bugged him. How did his prayers work? If he prayed to Cas, could anyone else hear him? Did he have to shut his eyes? Did he have to verbalize it? Seriously, they needed a fucking Handbook.
When he saw a sign for Historic Route 66 he decided to get off and take it for a stretch. He had a few hours to kill and he could use some good back road driving. With no other cars on the road he could pull over and just have a minute to himself. He liked the idea of it being just him, the desert, the asphalt, and the Impala.
About a mile down the road he found a decently isolated spot and pulled over. He grabbed a beer from the cooler in the trunk and took his familiar place on the hood of his baby. The sun was only starting to rise over the desert landscape and he was glad he got to see this before it became unbearably hot. Heavy jeans and flannel did not jive well with the scorching heat of Arizona.
About a minute into his peaceful Impala Meditation Routine he felt a strange and uncomfortable tight feeling in his chest. This almost felt like… oh shit!
He was flung from the hood of the car and landed face first in the coarse dirt. He got to his feet and looked around for whatever creature was playing telekinetic yo-yo with him. It was that same black haired demon girl from the office building. “Didn’t we kill you already?”
“Different demon, sweetheart.” She clenched her fist and he fell to his knees in pain. Every muscle felt like it was going to explode and he wanted to punch that bitch in the face. Hard. “My name is Abalam. You did, however, kill my sister. You can imagine that’s pissed me off a little.”
He was frozen and in pain and had absolutely no back up. He really only had one option to get out of this. He didn’t want to abuse this privilege, but this was a pretty desperate situation and if he was going to use it now was the time. “CASTIEL!” he shouted. Or maybe it was a prayer. Maybe both.
The was clearly frightened and began backing away from him. Yeah, she recognized the name all right. Suck it. Cas appeared behind her and instantly reached to exorcise her. But she dodged out of the way and disappeared immediately. Clearly Abalam was the smarter of the two demons if he knew to get lost when an archangel made an appearance.
Dean got off the ground and dusted off his jeans. “Bitch! Can you track her?”
“No. Whoever that young woman was, she knew how to work some powerful spellwork.” Cas touched Dean’s forehead, healing him from his brutal collision with the desert floor.
“You mean the demon?”
“No, whoever that black hair woman was is the one who originally summoned this set of demons. It’s why both Bebal and Abalam chose to possess her.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic. Do we know who she is?”
“No, unfortunately.”
Dean spotted his broken bottle of beer a few feet away. What a waste of perfectly good beer. He sighed and shook his head. “We should probably get back to the motel. Sam needs to know about this.”
“What are you doing way out here?”
“I needed time to think.”
“About?”
“Sam already tried that,” he said as he walked back towards the Impala. “There are some things I just don’t talk about. This is one of them.” Cas could have been a total jerk and read his mind, but Dean trusted him not to. And you hear that Cas? If you’re reading my mind right now you better stop.
Dean stopped at the door of his car and looked back to Cas. The angel nodded. Was he listening to that warning? Or was he just agreeing with what he’d verbally spoken? Whatever. It didn’t matter. Dean felt that he had some sense of privacy at the moment even if his emotions were broadcasting to the angel loud and clear. He still hadn’t gotten comfortable with that idea, but at least his thoughts were safe.
“You want to ride back with me? Or did I interrupt some important angel meeting?”
“No, I was going to return soon anyway.”
“Ok.”
He hadn’t even gotten an hour away from the motel when he pulled over, so the ride back was going to be pretty short. When he sat down he immediately called Sam and explained the situation. He wasn’t sure if Castiel used the door or not, but he was beside him in the car and he didn’t really care how he got there.
-
The car ride back had been mostly quiet. His thoughts drifted from the new demons they had on their hands to his whole dying experience yesterday to the fact that he actually never did get breakfast and they should probably stop somewhere. The poor angel must have been confused by his rapidly changing emotions, but he seemed content respecting his privacy at the moment.
He ended up pulling through a drive thru and getting some disgusting breakfast off the menu before driving back to the motel. He hoped Cas didn’t want to sample this particular meal because the guy deserved better.
When he walked through the door Sam shot up from his seat. “You ok?”
“Of course. It was just a demon, Sammy.”
“A demon whose sister killed you yesterday.”
“Yeah, a demon whose sister was vaporized by this guy,” he said as he gestured over his shoulder at Castiel.
“Well, regardless, I’m glad you’re ok.”
“Thanks.” Their little moment of brotherly love was shattered when Dean shoved a greasy bag of fast food at Sam. “Eat up.” Sam sneered, but accepted the bag.