Slow burn - for spn_in_space
Title: Slow Burn
Author: Gedry
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Rating: PG - 13
Word Count: 4,872
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
Beta: wolfrider89
Spoilers: none
Warnings: none
Summary: Originally written for 50 first kisses - Slow Burn. Dean’s a conduit, sending his soul out amongst the stars for exploration. His only problem is that conduits need guides. Dean’s luck with guides is unfortunate, to say the least. But, with the addition of his new partner comes a whole new set of concerns. Dean now has to manage their rocky professional relationship, while wrestling with his own need for a more personal one.
Slow Burn
Dean didn’t like him at first.
His new partner was weird, cold and impersonal. Castiel Novak stood out against the stark outline of the other new recruits in the docking bay of the shuttle station, completely out of place; instead of a uniform he had on an oversized tan tunic. His boots weren’t polished; his hair was sticking up everywhere. Most importantly, though: none of the other newbies were talking to him. That more than anything told Dean how off the guy must be.
Space is a scary place, big and lonely. The new guys always flock together.
Dean has learned to love space. He hates flying, always has, but something about the cool stream of slipping into the pod and letting your soul slip out to shoot across the galaxy is a comfort to him.
Sam thinks he’s nuts. Sam and his entourage of politicians.
The problem with Pooling, as the pilots have chosen to call it, is that it’s a two man experience. Dean is not exactly a two man kind of guy. He’s on his fifth Guide this year and his captain has finally told him if he can’t make it work with the new guy then Dean is grounded. Captain Singer even told him it didn’t matter anymore that Dean is the best Conduit they have.
The first few times they pool it’s rough. The joining of Conduits to Guides requires a certain level of intimacy, or better yet, affection. Dean has nothing but a bad feeling about Castiel, and Castiel doesn’t seem to feel anything at all in return.
Dean Pools in too early, causing his body to seize. Castiel yanks him out too late, forcing him to share the same symptoms.
It takes them weeks of trying, fighting, blaming, before they finally get it right.
Dean has missed being out here so much.
It’s not until he’s sweeping through an asteroid belt, formless and free, soul held to his body only by Castiel’s still somewhat eerily silent presence at the back of his consciousness, that Dean feels a spark of what he can only call wonder from his Guide.
Wonder, and possibly fear.
They can’t talk to each other like this, part of the reason why learning each other has been so difficult and why Guides and Conduits often never leave one another once they’re partnered up. They have to learn to feel each other's souls in the emptiness of space for Pooling to work.
He and Castiel haven’t learned each other yet, not at all, but he pulses back reassurance and hopes it comes through. Dean is a pro at this; he’s so much better at this than he is at being in his body. He wants Castiel to trust him.
His Guide’s presence settles against his again, more firmly this time, and Dean shoots off to the next star hoping to show something wonderful to Castiel, something that will make his new Guide understand why they have to make this work.
Dean can’t lose this.
He tries to smother the sadness he feels when Castiel’s soul, still linked to his, tugs him home. Dean thinks Castiel felt some of it anyway, though, because along his being he feels something, nothing he’s ever felt before. It's like what Singer once described as a soul’s kiss.
He doesn’t get a chance to explore it; the pod is opening and Dean awakens, shooting up all wired and full of energy like every time he comes home.
Castiel looks shaken, his eyes tired, clearly exhausted. It’s odd enough that Dean checks the clock on his pod and realizes he’s been gone half a day instead of their planned hour.
“Why?” Dean questions gruffly. Pooling might energize a Conduit, but it wears the Guides out.
“It had been so long,” Castiel shrugs. “You were joyful and…I’ve never been out except in simulations. It was amazing.”
Maybe this guy’s not so bad after all.
Dean’s just going to have to see.
*****
They’re nine months into their year long partnership; the parties that rule over the fleet require each Guide and Conduit pair to make a year long commitment prior to formally accepting a joining.
It’s not that serious. Dean has been through four other trial years before this thing he has with Cas began. None of them amounted to anything but anger and rejection. Dean just moved onto the next. He never really cared about any of it, just went on to the next Guide, just wanted to get back to the Pooling, where he belongs.
But this time, Dean is getting nervous. By nine months into his previous partnerships he and his Guide already knew they hated each other. Dean was well aware that at the end of the trial period he was going to be getting a new Guide.
He doesn’t want a new Guide this time. He wants Castiel. The problem is that Dean hasn't got a damned clue what Castiel wants: the guy never says anything about it. It’s like he doesn’t give a damn, and if he doesn’t care that their time together is getting shorter and shorter then Dean has to assume that Castiel isn’t happy with his performance.
Maybe this time it’s Dean who will be getting replaced.
The idea of it eats at him. He turns it over again and again in his head. Dean has never given a lot of thought to joining with someone. He’s always known it was part of the job, so in the long run he figured it was coming. He had hoped to find a Guide that was tolerable. He hadn’t counted on falling for the awkward, reserved Castiel.
And he has fallen for him. Dean Winchester, Casanova of the republic fleet, in love like a teenage girl. With a guy that probably doesn’t even notice him outside of their friendship and working relationship, no less.
Dean’s got no idea how to broach the subject; words have never really been his strong point.
“Dean?” Castiel’s voice so close to him gives Dean the shivers. “Are you well?”
Of course Cas would be worried. Dean has been sitting here in front of him at dinner staring off into nothing with his fork halfway to his mouth for who knows how long.
“I’m fine, Cas.” Dean goes for a grin and can tell immediately by the look on his friend’s face that it falls flat. “I was just thinking about tomorrow.” It’s a lie. Dean is thinking of another day many months in the future.
“You’re concerned about our Pooling the Gulf?” Castiel asks, head tilting slightly to the side as he assesses Dean with narrowed blue eyes. “I assure you, I’m well prepared.”
“No shit,” Dean snorts. “Like you’re ever not prepared.”
It’s a long standing joke between them. For as much as Dean likes to literally fly by the seat of his pants, Castiel has to be the most planned out Guide in the fleet. They’re still learning how to balance each other in that area, but it’s one of those topics that’s become more of a joke between them than a cause for conflict.
“There are things I’m not yet ready to deal with,” Castiel answers cryptically. Dean doesn’t get the chance to ask him what he means, because Cas gets up and goes to turn his tray in, waving at him as he walks out the door and into the dim corridor outside of the ship’s dining hall.
Dean stares at his empty place at the table for a long time.
When Dean slips out of his body as part of the Pooling process the next morning, he gets his first moment of peace about the whole joining issue in days. With Castiel’s presence snuggled in tight at the back of his awareness Dean can’t even consider that his partner wouldn’t want to do this forever; they fit perfectly here despite all their weirdness while in their bodies.
Dean has never felt closer to someone than he feels to Castiel when they Pool, their souls sent out into the wide empty surroundings of space to explore. They’re the best team in their rank and class. They’ve been called upon to go on a number of explorations, this one being to a place called “The Gulf;” a deep, dark expanse of space where nothing seems to exist. The fleet has been studying it for decades, not able to discover much from long range explorations, so Pooling was decided to be the best option.
Dean and Cas have been planning and practicing for weeks now, and as Dean’s spirit slips closer to the edge of the blackened area he can feel Cas shift and squirm against him through their bond. Dean can feel his Guide’s nervous excitement; sometimes it’s easy for him to forget that while Pooling is something he’s done for years, Cas was fresh off the simulators at the training academy when they first met.
He pulses warmth and support back to his guide through their link and ripples with happiness as Castiel returns the gesture. Castiel touches places inside of Dean he’s never shown to anyone else. It’s with that thought that he enters the empty place in space; knowing Castiel has his back, trusting his Guide to bring him home.
*****
Dean wakes to the sound of alarms and Castiel’s panicked face hovering over him. His Guide is shaking all over, dripping sweat, and they’re half in and half out of the pod they share for Pooling, Dean draped across the floor as Castiel clings to him.
“What happened?” Dean gasps. He hears the medical team running toward them, their boots banging against the metal flooring.
“Are you alright?” Castiel questions as his freezing cold fingers cup and smooth over Dean’s face like he’s trying to memorize it. “Are you with me?”
“I’m fine,” Dean huffs, shoving Castiel off him and struggling to a sitting position before the doctors strap him to some kind of gurney because they think something’s wrong with him. “Tell me what happened?!”
“You were gone.” Castiel chokes out, curling in on himself like he’s lost and cold. “We Pooled into the Gulf and you were gone, our connection was gone, I was out there alone, I couldn’t find you. It took me hours to make it back to the ship. I couldn’t find my way back into my body without you. One minute I was trapped out there, the next I was back inside. You woke up, just now, like nothing had happened.”
Dean doesn’t remember anything after slipping into the darkness. “How long?” he asks, even as he's diving back into the pod to check the sensors. The clock doesn’t lie.
They were gone nine hours.
Dean only remembers fifteen minutes of the Pool.
He’s not shocked when they’re grounded; not surprised at the guarded stares he gets from the rest of the ship's crew as he makes his way slowly to his cabin to begin the three day bed rest the medical staff ordered for both he and Castiel. What does get to him is the almost too quiet swish of his cabin door an hour later as Castiel breaks into his rooms, slips through his apartment in the darkness, and crawls into bed beside him.
“You disappeared,” Castiel whispers just as Dean almost slips into sleep. Dean reaches out to trace along Castiel’s cloth covered arm in the darkness. He tangles their fingers together under the sheet as he tugs Cas closer, settles his friend more firmly against his body.
“I’m here now,” he whispers back.
It’s a long time before either of them sleep.
*****
“Fuck!” Dean snarls as the medics stab him with yet another needle. “I’m not a pin cushion. Let me up.”
“Let them finish,” Castiel orders, his hand settling firmly against Dean’s arm. It’s not a tone Dean is used to from his Guide. Castiel is usually the quiet one when it comes to being out in public, but the situation is different this time.
This time, for the first time, Dean is going against everything his friend has asked of him. He’s going back out there, back into the Gulf. He has to know what happened to them.
It’s been two weeks of observation and testing, and Dean still draws a total blank for the whole of the event. The only way they’re going to know if this thing is dangerous is to give it another shot. Castiel is not sold on the idea, doesn’t want to risk it again.
On some level Dean is aware that he’s being pigheaded, but that’s never stopped him before.
Finally cleared, two hours later, he slips into the front area of the pod, the part designed for Conduits, and settles back waiting for Castiel to be hooked up as his Guide. The shell shuts down over them with a hiss and the air pressurizes just like normal. Dean closes his eyes and inhales deeply, sliding free of his body and out into the welcoming arms of space. It's like coming home.
Castiel’s presence is less comforting now, and clingier. His Guide feels like a thousand pound weight tied to his back. Dean does his best to project comfort and a feeling of security. Castiel pumps back with something that feels like maybe his Guide thinks he’s being an idiot. Dean shoves back with irritation, and Cas slams back at him with frustration and fear.
It’s the fear that shoves Dean over the edge of being even remotely reasonable. They’re just reaching the edge of the Gulf when he gets angry; it’s like Castiel doesn’t trust him, like he’s trying to drag Dean back to the ship before they even get started. Dean slams out aggravation and anger at his Guide. It’s sharp and sudden and Dean can tell from the stunned feeling of Castiel’s soul that it must have been the spiritual equivalent of being punched in the face. He wants to sooth, wants to reach out to offer some kind of comfort but Castiel withdraws into himself, only hanging onto Dean by the thinnest of connections.
It's a feeling Dean has experienced before, with his previous Guides. It’s how they touched him toward the end of their partnerships, like Dean’s soul was something distasteful and ugly. He turns and dives for the breach of the gulf without hesitation. He never wanted Castiel to touch him that way.
The blackness closes around them…
And Dean wakes up in the pod, once again to the sound of alarms and the pounding feet of the medical staff. Only this time they aren’t coming for him, they’re coming for Castiel.
*****
“Wake up,” Dean begs with a voice now hoarse from hours of pleading. “Please, wake up for me.”
Castiel’s pale, sleeping face doesn’t twitch even as Dean traces along the tiny lines next to his eyes. Brain-dead they say; the medical staff ran every diagnostic they could on the comatose Guide while Dean paced and screamed and demanded they run them again and again.
Now it’s just the two of them, off in the corner of the sick ward. Castiel’s body is covered by too thin a blanket, don’t they know he gets cold? Dean sits on the platform bed next to his friend and wills him to wake up with every bit of strength left in his soul.
It’s no use.
“Please,” Dean croaks out before leaning down and pressing his face into Castiel’s neck as he sobs. He doesn’t care who hears him, doesn’t care if the whole universe stops right now, because he lost Cas. He lost everything.
“Please, don’t let this be how we end.”
Dean never hears the nurse approach him, almost doesn’t feel the hiss of the injector before whatever they gave him knocks him out cold.
*****
Have you gotten your answer?
Dean slams back into wakefulness in his quarters; his eyes dart around the room in momentary panic until he knows where he is. The strangest feeling of Pooling hangs onto him as he comes out of his dream and he’s never felt that before.
He’s struggling to get up, headed for the medical wing, to Cas, when Singer’s voice rings out from the foot of his bed, “He’s still sleeping. Don’t worry, son, no one is going to hurt him.”
“I already did,” Dean answers before he thinks about what he’s planning to say. The lights come up slowly around them and Dean’s eyes turn warily towards his Captain.
“I don’t know what you think you did, Dean,” Singer sighs as he gets up out of the chair in the corner. “But I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”
“What if he’s lost out there?” Dean breathes out the thing that’s been eating at him since he woke up.
“In space?”
“Last time, he said he couldn’t find his way back to his body without me,” Dean swallows the sickening twist in his gut at the idea. “With me in here, what if he’s lost out there trying to get back in?”
“Guides can’t do that, Dean,” Singer answers sadly. “You know that. Only Conduits really Pool. Without you Castiel can’t survive in the in-between. Neither can Conduits for that matter, it’s why you’re paired.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Dean snarls. “But nothing makes sense about the Gulf. What if that’s what happened? I need to go back out there, Bobby. I need to go get him.”
“Absolutely not,” Captain Singer snaps. “You won’t make it through the Pooling processes without a Guide with you and there’s no way Castiel’s brain-dead body sitting in the back of that pod counts.”
“He’s not brain-dead,” Dean growls as his body shakes. “Don’t you ever say that to me again. You get the hell out.”
Dean watches with bleary eyes as his Captain takes his leave. That’s the problem with space travel: no doors to slam when you need them. Everything is so fucking automated.
*****
Dean spends most of the next eight days either at Castiel’s bedside or arguing violently with anyone and everyone who will pause long enough to listen. He needs to get back out, back to the pod, back to the Gulf, back to Cas.
The problem is no one believes him. Dean barely eats, runs himself down until he physically can’t make his body go anymore and falls into dreams that make no sense.
Have you gotten your answer?
He doesn’t even know the fucking question. But it feels like he should, feels like he’s missing something huge pressed right into the back of his brain where Cas lives when they Pool together.
He’s dropping the ball, can’t see the clues, fucking it all up, just like his father used to say he would.
Dean is falling apart.
“You look worse than he said you would.”
Dean whirls on his heels and looks up, up, up, into his little brother’s face.
“Sam?” Sam, the politician, the good kid, the one with big goals and a bright future, standing in the doorway. “Why are you here?”
“Bobby sent for me,” Sam says as he walks across the room toward Castiel’s bed. “Said you needed me.”
Dean turns back to the still form on the bed at his side and can’t stop himself from whispering, “He won’t wake up, Sammy.”
When Sam takes the rest of the room in three huge strides and wraps his extra long arms around him, Dean collapses, turns into his brother’s embrace and lets Sam guide him to somewhere more private. Then he retells the whole story, from start to finish and waits for his brother’s response.
“You love him?” Sam asks.
“I tell you I think a giant black cloud in space kidnapped my partner’s soul and all you want to know is if I love him?” Dean snaps.
Sam just gives him the puppy eyes and waits, the shit.
“Yeah,” Dean sighs. “I do. Just never got the balls to tell him, and now…”
He trails off, waiting for Sam to shove him in the shoulder and tell him it’s time to move on, or that Cas is in a better place, or some shit like what the rest of the people on board this rust bucket have been feeding him. That’s not what happens.
“Okay,” Sam shrugs as he puts down his coffee and takes off his jacket. “Let’s do this thing then.”
Dean is sure he’s gone crazy. “What?”
“Look, Dean,” Sam says as he heads for the door. “You’re my brother, all the family I have. You’re also the best damn Conduit the Republic has. So if you say your Guide is out there and you think you can bring him back then I’m going to help you. Besides, I want you to be happy, you deserve it.”
Okay, so Sam’s pretty awesome. Dean owes him a hell of an awesome birthday gift this year. “Sam…”
“Don’t say it.”
So he doesn’t, he just follows his brother back to the medical ward where Cas is still and silent and gathers up his friend. After that it’s just a mad rush down suspiciously empty hallways to the pod deck. “No one’s trying to stop us,” Dean hisses as the doors slide shut behind them.
“Yeah.” Sam smiles as he helps Dean settle Castiel’s body into his portion of the pod. “Bobby called in a few favors.”
“He told me I was crazy,” Dean comments as he fits himself into position.
“He told me we were both crazy,” Sam chuckles. “But he’s family.”
It’s easy for Dean to remember now, why he never accepted a transfer to a bigger, better station. He never wanted to leave Captain Singer behind, already too far from Sam to have Bobby out there on his own too.
“Sammy,” Dean starts as his brother gets ready to shut the lid to the pod. “Look, I’m not sure how this is going to do down. Cas usually leads me through it and he’s not exactly here right now. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but don’t open the lid, no matter what.”
“Or what?” Sam asks with a look on his face that says Dean better come up with a good answer or Sam might do it anyway.
“Or you’ll fry us both for good.” Dean meets his gaze, lets his brother know he’s telling the truth. Good or bad, once he starts there’s no way to stop it.
Sam nods, slams the lid shut and puts his too huge hand on the glass. Dean reaches up to press against the other side when the first wave of pain hits him. He groans, eyes closing as he tries to ride it out. He’s used to the easy slip slide of warmth as he goes into the Pool, used to Cas’ soul sliding along his as they settle together. This is nothing like that. He screams as it starts to feel like he’s being electrocuted; all of his nerve-endings lighting up with fire as the pain amplifies again and again. It’s not until darkness is touching the edges of his vision that something starts changing, the world around him blurring and shifting.
Dean might not make it; everything is going to end here.
Then he’s free, out in the open expanse but still wracked with pain. It’s not right, he can’t focus, feels too much, distracted. Without Castiel to focus him Dean has to struggle just to hold himself together, never mind move towards his goal. He’s nothing if not determined, though, and while it takes him so much longer than he had counted on, Dean finally makes his way to the edge of the Gulf. He throws himself head first into the blackness with all that he is, only to find himself back on the outside.
He tries again, and again.
Nothing changes. Dean had thought this would hold all of the answers, that if he got this far then he would find Cas and bring him home. But now, he can’t even get inside.
He curls in on himself, bleeding out pain, loss, and grief. He’s not even going to try to get back to the ship, doesn’t have it in him. This is it for him.
Have you gotten your answer?
That damned disconnected voice is sounding in his head even though there’s no voice in space. And then Dean hears Castiel answer, Yes.
And then he’s there, Cas’ soul sliding back against his like they’ve never been separated. Dean has never felt anything so good, so right. He pushes out everything he’s held in for so long, his hope, his love, his fears about Castiel not wanting him, and finds so much of his own feelings returned.
Such strange beings, the voice sounds again. The Conduit so concerned the other won’t stay, and the same reversed for the Guide. You’ve gained a greater understanding of one another now?
Yes, we have, Castiel answers.
Then you’re ready for the next step?
Dean wants to ask what the hell they mean, but the sweet-hot blast of longing that comes from his Guide stills him, makes him ache. Please. Castiel sounds desperate.
Then, it is done. The voice says warmly inside Dean’s soul. It’s time for celebration. Be merry. You have earned it.
Dean looses focus for a moment and the next thing he knows he’s jerking awake inside the pod, turning to grab for his partner seated behind him and finds himself staggered as Castiel gets to him first. They land in a pile of limbs inside Dean’s area of the pod. Dean opens his mouth to ask what just happened and finds himself being kissed instead.
A joyous jumble of Castiel’s feelings tumble through their link; a link that never existed before now outside of their time spent Pooling. Dean doesn’t really mind, too distracted by the man in his arms and the taste of Castiel on his lips to care.
They can sort the rest out later.
*****
One day Dean is going to calculate the number of hours he has spent in the medical ward and realize it’s over half his adult life.
“So you’re telling me that a giant space alien cloud decided to play matchmaker for us and then married our souls?”
Dean knows it sounds insane even as he says it, but he’s still shocked by the little burst of mirth that erupts from his link with Castiel. The other man is sitting stone-faced on the exam table across the room from him. But clearly, he’s enjoying this conversation.
Seems like Dean still has a whole lot to learn about his partner after all.
“It would appear that would be the case,” Castiel answers, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a tiny grin.
Dean can’t take it. He gets to his feet maybe a little too suddenly for the comfort of the medical staff that he’s been yelling at for over a week now. He’s probably going to have to buy them all dinner or something later to make up for how he acted while Cas was away. They quickly back off from their examination, like wild animals, skittish and afraid.
Dean crosses the room to where Castiel sits watching, steps between his Guide’s legs and wraps his arms around Castiel’s body, enjoying how the other man sighs and immediately leans against him, Cas’ arms sliding around his hips as he buries his face in Dean’s neck.
“I thought maybe you didn’t want to join with me,” Dean whispers into Castiel’s ear and shares the warmth of the other man’s embarrassment as Castiel answers with, “I had the same concern about you.”
“We’re pretty pathetic,” Dean snorts as he runs this hand down Castiel’s back. The nurses creep closer and Dean’s shocked to feel aggravation, frustration, and possessiveness coming through from Cas in their bond. Cas must have felt his confusion because his Guide shifts against him restlessly and murmurs, “I want them to leave us alone.”
Dean discovers that the first draw back of this whole bonding thing is that Cas experiences Dean’s hot blast of arousal at the idea of what they could do together, alone, just a moment after Dean does. His cheeks flame red and he ducks his head in shame until he feels a similar response from his Guide.
“I want you,” Castiel says softly. One of the nurses nearby must have heard them because she drops one of the instruments to the ground. “I love you.”
“Yeah,” Dean smiles as he feels the warmth of Castiel’s love. “I know. I love you, too.”
Castiel’s smile is blinding. “I’m aware.”
Dean can’t do anything but kiss him then. In the background he hears the nurses applaud and the doctor groan. He knows there will be meeting upon meeting about this, and for the next year he and Castiel will live under a microscope. But he doesn’t care. They’ll live together, and that’s all he really cares about.
He’s finally found his partner, and nothing else really matters at all.
Author: Gedry
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Rating: PG - 13
Word Count: 4,872
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
Beta: wolfrider89
Spoilers: none
Warnings: none
Summary: Originally written for 50 first kisses - Slow Burn. Dean’s a conduit, sending his soul out amongst the stars for exploration. His only problem is that conduits need guides. Dean’s luck with guides is unfortunate, to say the least. But, with the addition of his new partner comes a whole new set of concerns. Dean now has to manage their rocky professional relationship, while wrestling with his own need for a more personal one.
Slow Burn
Dean didn’t like him at first.
His new partner was weird, cold and impersonal. Castiel Novak stood out against the stark outline of the other new recruits in the docking bay of the shuttle station, completely out of place; instead of a uniform he had on an oversized tan tunic. His boots weren’t polished; his hair was sticking up everywhere. Most importantly, though: none of the other newbies were talking to him. That more than anything told Dean how off the guy must be.
Space is a scary place, big and lonely. The new guys always flock together.
Dean has learned to love space. He hates flying, always has, but something about the cool stream of slipping into the pod and letting your soul slip out to shoot across the galaxy is a comfort to him.
Sam thinks he’s nuts. Sam and his entourage of politicians.
The problem with Pooling, as the pilots have chosen to call it, is that it’s a two man experience. Dean is not exactly a two man kind of guy. He’s on his fifth Guide this year and his captain has finally told him if he can’t make it work with the new guy then Dean is grounded. Captain Singer even told him it didn’t matter anymore that Dean is the best Conduit they have.
The first few times they pool it’s rough. The joining of Conduits to Guides requires a certain level of intimacy, or better yet, affection. Dean has nothing but a bad feeling about Castiel, and Castiel doesn’t seem to feel anything at all in return.
Dean Pools in too early, causing his body to seize. Castiel yanks him out too late, forcing him to share the same symptoms.
It takes them weeks of trying, fighting, blaming, before they finally get it right.
Dean has missed being out here so much.
It’s not until he’s sweeping through an asteroid belt, formless and free, soul held to his body only by Castiel’s still somewhat eerily silent presence at the back of his consciousness, that Dean feels a spark of what he can only call wonder from his Guide.
Wonder, and possibly fear.
They can’t talk to each other like this, part of the reason why learning each other has been so difficult and why Guides and Conduits often never leave one another once they’re partnered up. They have to learn to feel each other's souls in the emptiness of space for Pooling to work.
He and Castiel haven’t learned each other yet, not at all, but he pulses back reassurance and hopes it comes through. Dean is a pro at this; he’s so much better at this than he is at being in his body. He wants Castiel to trust him.
His Guide’s presence settles against his again, more firmly this time, and Dean shoots off to the next star hoping to show something wonderful to Castiel, something that will make his new Guide understand why they have to make this work.
Dean can’t lose this.
He tries to smother the sadness he feels when Castiel’s soul, still linked to his, tugs him home. Dean thinks Castiel felt some of it anyway, though, because along his being he feels something, nothing he’s ever felt before. It's like what Singer once described as a soul’s kiss.
He doesn’t get a chance to explore it; the pod is opening and Dean awakens, shooting up all wired and full of energy like every time he comes home.
Castiel looks shaken, his eyes tired, clearly exhausted. It’s odd enough that Dean checks the clock on his pod and realizes he’s been gone half a day instead of their planned hour.
“Why?” Dean questions gruffly. Pooling might energize a Conduit, but it wears the Guides out.
“It had been so long,” Castiel shrugs. “You were joyful and…I’ve never been out except in simulations. It was amazing.”
Maybe this guy’s not so bad after all.
Dean’s just going to have to see.
*****
They’re nine months into their year long partnership; the parties that rule over the fleet require each Guide and Conduit pair to make a year long commitment prior to formally accepting a joining.
It’s not that serious. Dean has been through four other trial years before this thing he has with Cas began. None of them amounted to anything but anger and rejection. Dean just moved onto the next. He never really cared about any of it, just went on to the next Guide, just wanted to get back to the Pooling, where he belongs.
But this time, Dean is getting nervous. By nine months into his previous partnerships he and his Guide already knew they hated each other. Dean was well aware that at the end of the trial period he was going to be getting a new Guide.
He doesn’t want a new Guide this time. He wants Castiel. The problem is that Dean hasn't got a damned clue what Castiel wants: the guy never says anything about it. It’s like he doesn’t give a damn, and if he doesn’t care that their time together is getting shorter and shorter then Dean has to assume that Castiel isn’t happy with his performance.
Maybe this time it’s Dean who will be getting replaced.
The idea of it eats at him. He turns it over again and again in his head. Dean has never given a lot of thought to joining with someone. He’s always known it was part of the job, so in the long run he figured it was coming. He had hoped to find a Guide that was tolerable. He hadn’t counted on falling for the awkward, reserved Castiel.
And he has fallen for him. Dean Winchester, Casanova of the republic fleet, in love like a teenage girl. With a guy that probably doesn’t even notice him outside of their friendship and working relationship, no less.
Dean’s got no idea how to broach the subject; words have never really been his strong point.
“Dean?” Castiel’s voice so close to him gives Dean the shivers. “Are you well?”
Of course Cas would be worried. Dean has been sitting here in front of him at dinner staring off into nothing with his fork halfway to his mouth for who knows how long.
“I’m fine, Cas.” Dean goes for a grin and can tell immediately by the look on his friend’s face that it falls flat. “I was just thinking about tomorrow.” It’s a lie. Dean is thinking of another day many months in the future.
“You’re concerned about our Pooling the Gulf?” Castiel asks, head tilting slightly to the side as he assesses Dean with narrowed blue eyes. “I assure you, I’m well prepared.”
“No shit,” Dean snorts. “Like you’re ever not prepared.”
It’s a long standing joke between them. For as much as Dean likes to literally fly by the seat of his pants, Castiel has to be the most planned out Guide in the fleet. They’re still learning how to balance each other in that area, but it’s one of those topics that’s become more of a joke between them than a cause for conflict.
“There are things I’m not yet ready to deal with,” Castiel answers cryptically. Dean doesn’t get the chance to ask him what he means, because Cas gets up and goes to turn his tray in, waving at him as he walks out the door and into the dim corridor outside of the ship’s dining hall.
Dean stares at his empty place at the table for a long time.
When Dean slips out of his body as part of the Pooling process the next morning, he gets his first moment of peace about the whole joining issue in days. With Castiel’s presence snuggled in tight at the back of his awareness Dean can’t even consider that his partner wouldn’t want to do this forever; they fit perfectly here despite all their weirdness while in their bodies.
Dean has never felt closer to someone than he feels to Castiel when they Pool, their souls sent out into the wide empty surroundings of space to explore. They’re the best team in their rank and class. They’ve been called upon to go on a number of explorations, this one being to a place called “The Gulf;” a deep, dark expanse of space where nothing seems to exist. The fleet has been studying it for decades, not able to discover much from long range explorations, so Pooling was decided to be the best option.
Dean and Cas have been planning and practicing for weeks now, and as Dean’s spirit slips closer to the edge of the blackened area he can feel Cas shift and squirm against him through their bond. Dean can feel his Guide’s nervous excitement; sometimes it’s easy for him to forget that while Pooling is something he’s done for years, Cas was fresh off the simulators at the training academy when they first met.
He pulses warmth and support back to his guide through their link and ripples with happiness as Castiel returns the gesture. Castiel touches places inside of Dean he’s never shown to anyone else. It’s with that thought that he enters the empty place in space; knowing Castiel has his back, trusting his Guide to bring him home.
*****
Dean wakes to the sound of alarms and Castiel’s panicked face hovering over him. His Guide is shaking all over, dripping sweat, and they’re half in and half out of the pod they share for Pooling, Dean draped across the floor as Castiel clings to him.
“What happened?” Dean gasps. He hears the medical team running toward them, their boots banging against the metal flooring.
“Are you alright?” Castiel questions as his freezing cold fingers cup and smooth over Dean’s face like he’s trying to memorize it. “Are you with me?”
“I’m fine,” Dean huffs, shoving Castiel off him and struggling to a sitting position before the doctors strap him to some kind of gurney because they think something’s wrong with him. “Tell me what happened?!”
“You were gone.” Castiel chokes out, curling in on himself like he’s lost and cold. “We Pooled into the Gulf and you were gone, our connection was gone, I was out there alone, I couldn’t find you. It took me hours to make it back to the ship. I couldn’t find my way back into my body without you. One minute I was trapped out there, the next I was back inside. You woke up, just now, like nothing had happened.”
Dean doesn’t remember anything after slipping into the darkness. “How long?” he asks, even as he's diving back into the pod to check the sensors. The clock doesn’t lie.
They were gone nine hours.
Dean only remembers fifteen minutes of the Pool.
He’s not shocked when they’re grounded; not surprised at the guarded stares he gets from the rest of the ship's crew as he makes his way slowly to his cabin to begin the three day bed rest the medical staff ordered for both he and Castiel. What does get to him is the almost too quiet swish of his cabin door an hour later as Castiel breaks into his rooms, slips through his apartment in the darkness, and crawls into bed beside him.
“You disappeared,” Castiel whispers just as Dean almost slips into sleep. Dean reaches out to trace along Castiel’s cloth covered arm in the darkness. He tangles their fingers together under the sheet as he tugs Cas closer, settles his friend more firmly against his body.
“I’m here now,” he whispers back.
It’s a long time before either of them sleep.
*****
“Fuck!” Dean snarls as the medics stab him with yet another needle. “I’m not a pin cushion. Let me up.”
“Let them finish,” Castiel orders, his hand settling firmly against Dean’s arm. It’s not a tone Dean is used to from his Guide. Castiel is usually the quiet one when it comes to being out in public, but the situation is different this time.
This time, for the first time, Dean is going against everything his friend has asked of him. He’s going back out there, back into the Gulf. He has to know what happened to them.
It’s been two weeks of observation and testing, and Dean still draws a total blank for the whole of the event. The only way they’re going to know if this thing is dangerous is to give it another shot. Castiel is not sold on the idea, doesn’t want to risk it again.
On some level Dean is aware that he’s being pigheaded, but that’s never stopped him before.
Finally cleared, two hours later, he slips into the front area of the pod, the part designed for Conduits, and settles back waiting for Castiel to be hooked up as his Guide. The shell shuts down over them with a hiss and the air pressurizes just like normal. Dean closes his eyes and inhales deeply, sliding free of his body and out into the welcoming arms of space. It's like coming home.
Castiel’s presence is less comforting now, and clingier. His Guide feels like a thousand pound weight tied to his back. Dean does his best to project comfort and a feeling of security. Castiel pumps back with something that feels like maybe his Guide thinks he’s being an idiot. Dean shoves back with irritation, and Cas slams back at him with frustration and fear.
It’s the fear that shoves Dean over the edge of being even remotely reasonable. They’re just reaching the edge of the Gulf when he gets angry; it’s like Castiel doesn’t trust him, like he’s trying to drag Dean back to the ship before they even get started. Dean slams out aggravation and anger at his Guide. It’s sharp and sudden and Dean can tell from the stunned feeling of Castiel’s soul that it must have been the spiritual equivalent of being punched in the face. He wants to sooth, wants to reach out to offer some kind of comfort but Castiel withdraws into himself, only hanging onto Dean by the thinnest of connections.
It's a feeling Dean has experienced before, with his previous Guides. It’s how they touched him toward the end of their partnerships, like Dean’s soul was something distasteful and ugly. He turns and dives for the breach of the gulf without hesitation. He never wanted Castiel to touch him that way.
The blackness closes around them…
And Dean wakes up in the pod, once again to the sound of alarms and the pounding feet of the medical staff. Only this time they aren’t coming for him, they’re coming for Castiel.
*****
“Wake up,” Dean begs with a voice now hoarse from hours of pleading. “Please, wake up for me.”
Castiel’s pale, sleeping face doesn’t twitch even as Dean traces along the tiny lines next to his eyes. Brain-dead they say; the medical staff ran every diagnostic they could on the comatose Guide while Dean paced and screamed and demanded they run them again and again.
Now it’s just the two of them, off in the corner of the sick ward. Castiel’s body is covered by too thin a blanket, don’t they know he gets cold? Dean sits on the platform bed next to his friend and wills him to wake up with every bit of strength left in his soul.
It’s no use.
“Please,” Dean croaks out before leaning down and pressing his face into Castiel’s neck as he sobs. He doesn’t care who hears him, doesn’t care if the whole universe stops right now, because he lost Cas. He lost everything.
“Please, don’t let this be how we end.”
Dean never hears the nurse approach him, almost doesn’t feel the hiss of the injector before whatever they gave him knocks him out cold.
*****
Have you gotten your answer?
Dean slams back into wakefulness in his quarters; his eyes dart around the room in momentary panic until he knows where he is. The strangest feeling of Pooling hangs onto him as he comes out of his dream and he’s never felt that before.
He’s struggling to get up, headed for the medical wing, to Cas, when Singer’s voice rings out from the foot of his bed, “He’s still sleeping. Don’t worry, son, no one is going to hurt him.”
“I already did,” Dean answers before he thinks about what he’s planning to say. The lights come up slowly around them and Dean’s eyes turn warily towards his Captain.
“I don’t know what you think you did, Dean,” Singer sighs as he gets up out of the chair in the corner. “But I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”
“What if he’s lost out there?” Dean breathes out the thing that’s been eating at him since he woke up.
“In space?”
“Last time, he said he couldn’t find his way back to his body without me,” Dean swallows the sickening twist in his gut at the idea. “With me in here, what if he’s lost out there trying to get back in?”
“Guides can’t do that, Dean,” Singer answers sadly. “You know that. Only Conduits really Pool. Without you Castiel can’t survive in the in-between. Neither can Conduits for that matter, it’s why you’re paired.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Dean snarls. “But nothing makes sense about the Gulf. What if that’s what happened? I need to go back out there, Bobby. I need to go get him.”
“Absolutely not,” Captain Singer snaps. “You won’t make it through the Pooling processes without a Guide with you and there’s no way Castiel’s brain-dead body sitting in the back of that pod counts.”
“He’s not brain-dead,” Dean growls as his body shakes. “Don’t you ever say that to me again. You get the hell out.”
Dean watches with bleary eyes as his Captain takes his leave. That’s the problem with space travel: no doors to slam when you need them. Everything is so fucking automated.
*****
Dean spends most of the next eight days either at Castiel’s bedside or arguing violently with anyone and everyone who will pause long enough to listen. He needs to get back out, back to the pod, back to the Gulf, back to Cas.
The problem is no one believes him. Dean barely eats, runs himself down until he physically can’t make his body go anymore and falls into dreams that make no sense.
Have you gotten your answer?
He doesn’t even know the fucking question. But it feels like he should, feels like he’s missing something huge pressed right into the back of his brain where Cas lives when they Pool together.
He’s dropping the ball, can’t see the clues, fucking it all up, just like his father used to say he would.
Dean is falling apart.
“You look worse than he said you would.”
Dean whirls on his heels and looks up, up, up, into his little brother’s face.
“Sam?” Sam, the politician, the good kid, the one with big goals and a bright future, standing in the doorway. “Why are you here?”
“Bobby sent for me,” Sam says as he walks across the room toward Castiel’s bed. “Said you needed me.”
Dean turns back to the still form on the bed at his side and can’t stop himself from whispering, “He won’t wake up, Sammy.”
When Sam takes the rest of the room in three huge strides and wraps his extra long arms around him, Dean collapses, turns into his brother’s embrace and lets Sam guide him to somewhere more private. Then he retells the whole story, from start to finish and waits for his brother’s response.
“You love him?” Sam asks.
“I tell you I think a giant black cloud in space kidnapped my partner’s soul and all you want to know is if I love him?” Dean snaps.
Sam just gives him the puppy eyes and waits, the shit.
“Yeah,” Dean sighs. “I do. Just never got the balls to tell him, and now…”
He trails off, waiting for Sam to shove him in the shoulder and tell him it’s time to move on, or that Cas is in a better place, or some shit like what the rest of the people on board this rust bucket have been feeding him. That’s not what happens.
“Okay,” Sam shrugs as he puts down his coffee and takes off his jacket. “Let’s do this thing then.”
Dean is sure he’s gone crazy. “What?”
“Look, Dean,” Sam says as he heads for the door. “You’re my brother, all the family I have. You’re also the best damn Conduit the Republic has. So if you say your Guide is out there and you think you can bring him back then I’m going to help you. Besides, I want you to be happy, you deserve it.”
Okay, so Sam’s pretty awesome. Dean owes him a hell of an awesome birthday gift this year. “Sam…”
“Don’t say it.”
So he doesn’t, he just follows his brother back to the medical ward where Cas is still and silent and gathers up his friend. After that it’s just a mad rush down suspiciously empty hallways to the pod deck. “No one’s trying to stop us,” Dean hisses as the doors slide shut behind them.
“Yeah.” Sam smiles as he helps Dean settle Castiel’s body into his portion of the pod. “Bobby called in a few favors.”
“He told me I was crazy,” Dean comments as he fits himself into position.
“He told me we were both crazy,” Sam chuckles. “But he’s family.”
It’s easy for Dean to remember now, why he never accepted a transfer to a bigger, better station. He never wanted to leave Captain Singer behind, already too far from Sam to have Bobby out there on his own too.
“Sammy,” Dean starts as his brother gets ready to shut the lid to the pod. “Look, I’m not sure how this is going to do down. Cas usually leads me through it and he’s not exactly here right now. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but don’t open the lid, no matter what.”
“Or what?” Sam asks with a look on his face that says Dean better come up with a good answer or Sam might do it anyway.
“Or you’ll fry us both for good.” Dean meets his gaze, lets his brother know he’s telling the truth. Good or bad, once he starts there’s no way to stop it.
Sam nods, slams the lid shut and puts his too huge hand on the glass. Dean reaches up to press against the other side when the first wave of pain hits him. He groans, eyes closing as he tries to ride it out. He’s used to the easy slip slide of warmth as he goes into the Pool, used to Cas’ soul sliding along his as they settle together. This is nothing like that. He screams as it starts to feel like he’s being electrocuted; all of his nerve-endings lighting up with fire as the pain amplifies again and again. It’s not until darkness is touching the edges of his vision that something starts changing, the world around him blurring and shifting.
Dean might not make it; everything is going to end here.
Then he’s free, out in the open expanse but still wracked with pain. It’s not right, he can’t focus, feels too much, distracted. Without Castiel to focus him Dean has to struggle just to hold himself together, never mind move towards his goal. He’s nothing if not determined, though, and while it takes him so much longer than he had counted on, Dean finally makes his way to the edge of the Gulf. He throws himself head first into the blackness with all that he is, only to find himself back on the outside.
He tries again, and again.
Nothing changes. Dean had thought this would hold all of the answers, that if he got this far then he would find Cas and bring him home. But now, he can’t even get inside.
He curls in on himself, bleeding out pain, loss, and grief. He’s not even going to try to get back to the ship, doesn’t have it in him. This is it for him.
Have you gotten your answer?
That damned disconnected voice is sounding in his head even though there’s no voice in space. And then Dean hears Castiel answer, Yes.
And then he’s there, Cas’ soul sliding back against his like they’ve never been separated. Dean has never felt anything so good, so right. He pushes out everything he’s held in for so long, his hope, his love, his fears about Castiel not wanting him, and finds so much of his own feelings returned.
Such strange beings, the voice sounds again. The Conduit so concerned the other won’t stay, and the same reversed for the Guide. You’ve gained a greater understanding of one another now?
Yes, we have, Castiel answers.
Then you’re ready for the next step?
Dean wants to ask what the hell they mean, but the sweet-hot blast of longing that comes from his Guide stills him, makes him ache. Please. Castiel sounds desperate.
Then, it is done. The voice says warmly inside Dean’s soul. It’s time for celebration. Be merry. You have earned it.
Dean looses focus for a moment and the next thing he knows he’s jerking awake inside the pod, turning to grab for his partner seated behind him and finds himself staggered as Castiel gets to him first. They land in a pile of limbs inside Dean’s area of the pod. Dean opens his mouth to ask what just happened and finds himself being kissed instead.
A joyous jumble of Castiel’s feelings tumble through their link; a link that never existed before now outside of their time spent Pooling. Dean doesn’t really mind, too distracted by the man in his arms and the taste of Castiel on his lips to care.
They can sort the rest out later.
*****
One day Dean is going to calculate the number of hours he has spent in the medical ward and realize it’s over half his adult life.
“So you’re telling me that a giant space alien cloud decided to play matchmaker for us and then married our souls?”
Dean knows it sounds insane even as he says it, but he’s still shocked by the little burst of mirth that erupts from his link with Castiel. The other man is sitting stone-faced on the exam table across the room from him. But clearly, he’s enjoying this conversation.
Seems like Dean still has a whole lot to learn about his partner after all.
“It would appear that would be the case,” Castiel answers, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a tiny grin.
Dean can’t take it. He gets to his feet maybe a little too suddenly for the comfort of the medical staff that he’s been yelling at for over a week now. He’s probably going to have to buy them all dinner or something later to make up for how he acted while Cas was away. They quickly back off from their examination, like wild animals, skittish and afraid.
Dean crosses the room to where Castiel sits watching, steps between his Guide’s legs and wraps his arms around Castiel’s body, enjoying how the other man sighs and immediately leans against him, Cas’ arms sliding around his hips as he buries his face in Dean’s neck.
“I thought maybe you didn’t want to join with me,” Dean whispers into Castiel’s ear and shares the warmth of the other man’s embarrassment as Castiel answers with, “I had the same concern about you.”
“We’re pretty pathetic,” Dean snorts as he runs this hand down Castiel’s back. The nurses creep closer and Dean’s shocked to feel aggravation, frustration, and possessiveness coming through from Cas in their bond. Cas must have felt his confusion because his Guide shifts against him restlessly and murmurs, “I want them to leave us alone.”
Dean discovers that the first draw back of this whole bonding thing is that Cas experiences Dean’s hot blast of arousal at the idea of what they could do together, alone, just a moment after Dean does. His cheeks flame red and he ducks his head in shame until he feels a similar response from his Guide.
“I want you,” Castiel says softly. One of the nurses nearby must have heard them because she drops one of the instruments to the ground. “I love you.”
“Yeah,” Dean smiles as he feels the warmth of Castiel’s love. “I know. I love you, too.”
Castiel’s smile is blinding. “I’m aware.”
Dean can’t do anything but kiss him then. In the background he hears the nurses applaud and the doctor groan. He knows there will be meeting upon meeting about this, and for the next year he and Castiel will live under a microscope. But he doesn’t care. They’ll live together, and that’s all he really cares about.
He’s finally found his partner, and nothing else really matters at all.