fic: MMOM #23: Angels Don’t Get Christmas (Dean/Castiel)
Title: Angels Don’t Get Christmas
Author: eggblue
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Supernatural, Sam, Dean and Castiel are not belong to me.
Word Count: 1025
Notes: A Christmas story. Just post ‘Heaven and Hell’ (4.10).
Dean walked out from under the hotel awning and into the falling snow. He was kind of angry.
“What are you doing here, Cas? You haven’t shown up in weeks.”
The angel stood and waited for Dean to come to him, his hands in his coat pockets. “It’s Christmas.”
And Dean just kind of stood there, a few feet from Castiel, and looked at the softly falling snow and the utter silence in the air and the angel standing in front of him with the joy of the season in his eyes. Figures, he shrugs. “So what do you want me to do about it?”
Castiel blinks. “We want you to be happy, Dean Winchester.”
“You guys are insane, you know that,” he growls, and snaps his fingers. “There, done. I’m happy.”
“You’re not happy that I dragged you out of hell so that you could have this day with your brother.”
“Aw hell, Cas, how grateful do you want me to be?”
“I had thought, after last year, that you had changed your mind about this day. About the importance of gifts, and family.”
“What, you were watching me? That means you were watching us get tortured by pagan gods in the kitchen then?”
“Yes. And I was watching when Sam decided to give you a Christmas.”
Shit. “Uh, maybe we should go inside or something. It’s getting cold out here.”
“Dean, you’re dreaming.”
Oh. “Yeah, I knew that.”
Castiel pursed his lips together. That wasn’t quite a sigh. “I am here for a reason. I have a gift for you.”
Dean realized his arms were crossed in front of him, and he felt sheepish, dropped his hands to his sides and decided to see what Castiel had to give. “Okay.”
Dean felt kind of crappy too that he didn’t have anything to offer. He didn’t like owing this angel anything, but the debt was becoming deeper all the time, and not making any more sense. “What should I do?”
“Just watch, Dean.” And maybe Castiel was smiling just a bit.
Dean watched through the snow as the white coalesced into shapes behind Castiel’s back. Into wings.
They were full and feathered. Like birds’ wings, but for really huge birds. Birds with power. They shined as bright as the sun shined off the snow. It hurt Dean’s eyes to look at them, but he couldn’t look away either. Like everything about Castiel, it made him feel a longing to be worthy, and it made him angry.
Castiel sensed his anger, and dimmed his wings. Whatever hopes he had were fading now. “What’s wrong, Dean?”
“Why? Why did you show me that now?” When it made him feel this way? When it hurt to look at something so bright after so long spent in the dark. When you’ve been here all along.
And what did it mean? “Uriel said that you liked me, Cas. Like that was something bad. And you guys want to kill Anna? How’m I supposed to trust you?” And why do I want to?
“We had our orders.”
“Your orders are bullshit, Cas. You guys attack a fallen angel like you’re cleaning up heaven’s garbage.” And yeah, he had turned Anna in, but that couldn’t be what made the angel’s wings shine so sharply. “So don’t come to me on Christmas and try to teach me a lesson about family.”
Cas’ wings were completely hidden. “Angels have lived a long time without mercy. I know what it’s like to be without it. I know you have more mercy than that, Dean.”
“If you’re looking to learn about mercy from me, than I feel sorry for you…”
Castiel cut him off. “No. Your heart is filled with mercy and compassion. Just not for us.”
Not for them, no. “Maybe for you.”
Damn, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “I mean,” and yeah, he needed to say this, “I know that you’re different from the rest of them.”
And Castiel’s expression turned pained at that.
“Maybe you don’t even think so. Ok, but it’s just a feeling I have, alright? And it might not mean anything now, but maybe one day it will. And you’ll remember that I said you were different, that you were better. And it will mean something then.”
Castiel narrows his eyes. “You’re trying to get me to be loyal to you. I can’t do that. Not even for you, Dean.”
Oh, he thinks he could. Dean shrugs. “Maybe not. But at least you’ll remember that I tried. Don’t think of it as being loyal to me. Think of it as being loyal to Castiel. What Castiel wants.”
“That’s assuming that you and I want the same thing.”
“Don’t we?” When he said it, it occurred to Dean that they did want the same thing.
But he didn’t know what that was.
Castiel frowned. Then frowned deeper. They stared at each other and the snow kept falling.
Something important was happening, and right before Castiel disappeared and Dean opened his eyes, they thought maybe they had found it - the thing that gave them an answer, the thing that scared them.
Dean had the feeling he wouldn’t see Castiel again for a long time, not even in his dreams. He wouldn’t be able to make it up to him, about his gift of his wings. And what did Castiel mean to show him? How was he expecting Dean to feel?
Castiel didn’t return for a long time, not until Dean returned from the spirit world barely intact. Dean would be no less angry by then. He would almost forget his dream, fuzzy as dreams were. But sometimes, when he would be in the middle of a desperate jerk off session while trying to fall asleep, he would see flashes of white feathers and sunlight catching crystals of snow.
But for now, Sam was there and it was Christmas, and he could really use some of his kick-ass egg nog. If Christmas was something they don’t get in hell or in paradise, they better take advantage of it here. Convenience stores and beer can wreaths be damned.
The End
Author: eggblue
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Supernatural, Sam, Dean and Castiel are not belong to me.
Word Count: 1025
Notes: A Christmas story. Just post ‘Heaven and Hell’ (4.10).
Dean walked out from under the hotel awning and into the falling snow. He was kind of angry.
“What are you doing here, Cas? You haven’t shown up in weeks.”
The angel stood and waited for Dean to come to him, his hands in his coat pockets. “It’s Christmas.”
And Dean just kind of stood there, a few feet from Castiel, and looked at the softly falling snow and the utter silence in the air and the angel standing in front of him with the joy of the season in his eyes. Figures, he shrugs. “So what do you want me to do about it?”
Castiel blinks. “We want you to be happy, Dean Winchester.”
“You guys are insane, you know that,” he growls, and snaps his fingers. “There, done. I’m happy.”
“You’re not happy that I dragged you out of hell so that you could have this day with your brother.”
“Aw hell, Cas, how grateful do you want me to be?”
“I had thought, after last year, that you had changed your mind about this day. About the importance of gifts, and family.”
“What, you were watching me? That means you were watching us get tortured by pagan gods in the kitchen then?”
“Yes. And I was watching when Sam decided to give you a Christmas.”
Shit. “Uh, maybe we should go inside or something. It’s getting cold out here.”
“Dean, you’re dreaming.”
Oh. “Yeah, I knew that.”
Castiel pursed his lips together. That wasn’t quite a sigh. “I am here for a reason. I have a gift for you.”
Dean realized his arms were crossed in front of him, and he felt sheepish, dropped his hands to his sides and decided to see what Castiel had to give. “Okay.”
Dean felt kind of crappy too that he didn’t have anything to offer. He didn’t like owing this angel anything, but the debt was becoming deeper all the time, and not making any more sense. “What should I do?”
“Just watch, Dean.” And maybe Castiel was smiling just a bit.
Dean watched through the snow as the white coalesced into shapes behind Castiel’s back. Into wings.
They were full and feathered. Like birds’ wings, but for really huge birds. Birds with power. They shined as bright as the sun shined off the snow. It hurt Dean’s eyes to look at them, but he couldn’t look away either. Like everything about Castiel, it made him feel a longing to be worthy, and it made him angry.
Castiel sensed his anger, and dimmed his wings. Whatever hopes he had were fading now. “What’s wrong, Dean?”
“Why? Why did you show me that now?” When it made him feel this way? When it hurt to look at something so bright after so long spent in the dark. When you’ve been here all along.
And what did it mean? “Uriel said that you liked me, Cas. Like that was something bad. And you guys want to kill Anna? How’m I supposed to trust you?” And why do I want to?
“We had our orders.”
“Your orders are bullshit, Cas. You guys attack a fallen angel like you’re cleaning up heaven’s garbage.” And yeah, he had turned Anna in, but that couldn’t be what made the angel’s wings shine so sharply. “So don’t come to me on Christmas and try to teach me a lesson about family.”
Cas’ wings were completely hidden. “Angels have lived a long time without mercy. I know what it’s like to be without it. I know you have more mercy than that, Dean.”
“If you’re looking to learn about mercy from me, than I feel sorry for you…”
Castiel cut him off. “No. Your heart is filled with mercy and compassion. Just not for us.”
Not for them, no. “Maybe for you.”
Damn, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “I mean,” and yeah, he needed to say this, “I know that you’re different from the rest of them.”
And Castiel’s expression turned pained at that.
“Maybe you don’t even think so. Ok, but it’s just a feeling I have, alright? And it might not mean anything now, but maybe one day it will. And you’ll remember that I said you were different, that you were better. And it will mean something then.”
Castiel narrows his eyes. “You’re trying to get me to be loyal to you. I can’t do that. Not even for you, Dean.”
Oh, he thinks he could. Dean shrugs. “Maybe not. But at least you’ll remember that I tried. Don’t think of it as being loyal to me. Think of it as being loyal to Castiel. What Castiel wants.”
“That’s assuming that you and I want the same thing.”
“Don’t we?” When he said it, it occurred to Dean that they did want the same thing.
But he didn’t know what that was.
Castiel frowned. Then frowned deeper. They stared at each other and the snow kept falling.
Something important was happening, and right before Castiel disappeared and Dean opened his eyes, they thought maybe they had found it - the thing that gave them an answer, the thing that scared them.
Dean had the feeling he wouldn’t see Castiel again for a long time, not even in his dreams. He wouldn’t be able to make it up to him, about his gift of his wings. And what did Castiel mean to show him? How was he expecting Dean to feel?
Castiel didn’t return for a long time, not until Dean returned from the spirit world barely intact. Dean would be no less angry by then. He would almost forget his dream, fuzzy as dreams were. But sometimes, when he would be in the middle of a desperate jerk off session while trying to fall asleep, he would see flashes of white feathers and sunlight catching crystals of snow.
But for now, Sam was there and it was Christmas, and he could really use some of his kick-ass egg nog. If Christmas was something they don’t get in hell or in paradise, they better take advantage of it here. Convenience stores and beer can wreaths be damned.
The End