Fic: When Fate Falls on You (SPOILERS FOR 4.16)
Fic: When Fate Falls on You (SPOILERS FOR 4.16)
Author: eggblue
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, PG-13
Word Count: <500 words
Summary: Ficlet for scenes after the ending of 4.16.
Disclaimer: I do not own; don't sue.
Note: There are too many songs about kissing in my head, and I don’t want Castiel to fall. Plus I was screaming “KISS HIM!” at the end of the episode and I knew I couldn’t sleep without setting the world right in my head. There, all better. I haven’t posted a story in years. It took an angel to bring me back ;) Feedback is nice.
***
So. Was the end of the world.
Castiel kissed the tear pooling in the corner of Dean’s mouth and healed him. There, that ended it. So he waited.
Dean looked down. He was remembering dreams. “So, uh, Cas, this is all we got, I guess.” He was remembering dreams of Castiel. He was thinking of memories too. Of his father. Of Alastair. Of Sam. He didn’t want to think about that. “I don’t know what to do. Please, tell me what to do, Cas.”
Castiel watched Dean’s tears fall. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” This would require more kissing. But. “But. I know that we are meant to be here. I know that I was meant to find you, and save you.”
He spoke through Dean’s doubt. He knew doubt now. “Dean, I knew something was wrong with the Devil’s Trap because angels are agents of fate. I am an agent of your fate. And you were meant to be here with me. Right now.”
He was stating truth and fact. He was finally certain of that. Dean had sounded like Anna, but he wasn’t Anna. He felt different. He remembered the way Dean had looked at him in the hotel room before, the way he had argued with Uriel. Dean had been right all along. And Dean had faith in him too. “Come with me.”
As it turned out, his world ended in an orange, cowboy hotel room outside of Cheyenne.
Castiel touched every freckle Dean had with his mouth. Sometimes with just his lips. Sometimes just the tip of his tongue. Sometimes the insides of his cheeks. His nose. His forehead. Castiel felt Dean.
Still, Dean sometimes thought of Alastair, messily and detached. Confused. His revenge fantasies were disjointed, replaced by dissipating weaknesses and both of their deaths. Dean often thought of Sam, fearfully, fearfully, about the coming storm, the anger he doesn’t know how to feel. Dean needed to let go of all of it. He needed release.
So Castiel got down on his knees. There was not a speck of dirt on him. His clothes were grubby. His hair, windblown. They had both been swept clean.
Castiel knew how to hum and to sing. He knew how to praise. There was light, and the sound of birds, and the scent of breath.
Dean made short sounds with his throat and beat against the headboard.
Castiel never wanted to close his eyes. There was witnessing, he thought. There was comfort, he thought. Even with strangers.
Dean came into his mouth and groaned with his whole soul.
Fate, yes. Yes. Their fathers were right in loving them. In entrusting them. This proved it. His fate rested with Dean. No matter what.
Castiel felt. He watched Dean for a long time. He watched until the dying light of the day pooled in his eyes. He wished he could kiss it away.
“Dean, there is something I have to tell you.”
Dean looked up at him and Castiel held him in his arms.
“After I fell, at the factory, your brother attacked Alastair. He pulled the truth from the demon’s throat. Then he killed him.” Castiel watched Dean’s irises move until he spoke, and afterwards. They were dark, and green.
“With the knife?”
“No.” Castiel paused. “Not with the knife.”
The End
Kissing songs du jour
Scout Niblett - Kiss
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Kiss Kiss
Author: eggblue
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, PG-13
Word Count: <500 words
Summary: Ficlet for scenes after the ending of 4.16.
Disclaimer: I do not own; don't sue.
Note: There are too many songs about kissing in my head, and I don’t want Castiel to fall. Plus I was screaming “KISS HIM!” at the end of the episode and I knew I couldn’t sleep without setting the world right in my head. There, all better. I haven’t posted a story in years. It took an angel to bring me back ;) Feedback is nice.
***
So. Was the end of the world.
Castiel kissed the tear pooling in the corner of Dean’s mouth and healed him. There, that ended it. So he waited.
Dean looked down. He was remembering dreams. “So, uh, Cas, this is all we got, I guess.” He was remembering dreams of Castiel. He was thinking of memories too. Of his father. Of Alastair. Of Sam. He didn’t want to think about that. “I don’t know what to do. Please, tell me what to do, Cas.”
Castiel watched Dean’s tears fall. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” This would require more kissing. But. “But. I know that we are meant to be here. I know that I was meant to find you, and save you.”
He spoke through Dean’s doubt. He knew doubt now. “Dean, I knew something was wrong with the Devil’s Trap because angels are agents of fate. I am an agent of your fate. And you were meant to be here with me. Right now.”
He was stating truth and fact. He was finally certain of that. Dean had sounded like Anna, but he wasn’t Anna. He felt different. He remembered the way Dean had looked at him in the hotel room before, the way he had argued with Uriel. Dean had been right all along. And Dean had faith in him too. “Come with me.”
As it turned out, his world ended in an orange, cowboy hotel room outside of Cheyenne.
Castiel touched every freckle Dean had with his mouth. Sometimes with just his lips. Sometimes just the tip of his tongue. Sometimes the insides of his cheeks. His nose. His forehead. Castiel felt Dean.
Still, Dean sometimes thought of Alastair, messily and detached. Confused. His revenge fantasies were disjointed, replaced by dissipating weaknesses and both of their deaths. Dean often thought of Sam, fearfully, fearfully, about the coming storm, the anger he doesn’t know how to feel. Dean needed to let go of all of it. He needed release.
So Castiel got down on his knees. There was not a speck of dirt on him. His clothes were grubby. His hair, windblown. They had both been swept clean.
Castiel knew how to hum and to sing. He knew how to praise. There was light, and the sound of birds, and the scent of breath.
Dean made short sounds with his throat and beat against the headboard.
Castiel never wanted to close his eyes. There was witnessing, he thought. There was comfort, he thought. Even with strangers.
Dean came into his mouth and groaned with his whole soul.
Fate, yes. Yes. Their fathers were right in loving them. In entrusting them. This proved it. His fate rested with Dean. No matter what.
Castiel felt. He watched Dean for a long time. He watched until the dying light of the day pooled in his eyes. He wished he could kiss it away.
“Dean, there is something I have to tell you.”
Dean looked up at him and Castiel held him in his arms.
“After I fell, at the factory, your brother attacked Alastair. He pulled the truth from the demon’s throat. Then he killed him.” Castiel watched Dean’s irises move until he spoke, and afterwards. They were dark, and green.
“With the knife?”
“No.” Castiel paused. “Not with the knife.”
The End
Kissing songs du jour
Scout Niblett - Kiss
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Kiss Kiss