Supernatural fic - "Saving Grace" (Part Nineteen)
See the masterpost for disclaimer, summary, and previous parts.
The sight of Castiel padding around barefoot in an old pair of Dean’s jeans and a worn AC/DC t-shirt would never stop making Dean smile. Both articles of clothing had been stuffed in the bottom of Dean’s bag for years, grown too tight but Dean not quite ready to give up on them (it was a small miracle when some piece of clothing a Winchester owned didn’t meet a violent end… those that survived the hunter lifestyle almost became good luck charms). Now he was glad he hadn’t thrown them out, because Castiel wearing them, that was Christmas card material right there.
Sitting at Bobby’s kitchen table, Castiel cocked his head at Dean and frowned. “Why would you want to give out Christmas cards with my image on them?”
Dean laughed. Bobby, pretending like he wasn’t overhearing it all, just shook his head as he dug through the refrigerator for lunchmeat.
Things with Bobby had been a little awkward, but only because Dean woke up in the late morning with a sleeping, naked Castiel draped over him and a blanket thrown over the both of them. A blanket they had not had when they fell asleep. Which could only mean Bobby popped in, saw them cuddled up like everything they’d falsely told Sam they were, and spread a blanket over them… all without waking either man. Dean wasn’t really sure what made him more uncomfortable… that Bobby had seen Castiel sleeping or that Bobby had seen the angel’s lily-white ass. That had to be sacrilegious or something.
To his credit, Bobby didn’t say a word about it. And Castiel didn’t seem bothered by Bobby peeping on his goods, but then, Castiel wouldn’t understand that he ought to be. So Dean felt it fell to him to be embarrassed for Cas.
“Now that we know your angel’s saved the world,” Bobby said as he closed the refrigerator door with his foot, hands full, “we should get the word out.”
Castiel just nodded solemnly.
Dean, standing at the counter, slathered three slices of bread with mustard. “It’s nice to get to be the bearers of good news for a change.” With the supplies Bobby had fetched, Dean threw together three heavily-stuffed sandwiches. Bobby snatched up one plate while Dean carried the other two plates to the table. He set one down in front of Castiel and sat down to Castiel’s left.
Castiel eyed the food dubiously. “This isn’t necessary, Dean. I don’t require food.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll believe that when you’ve got meat back on your bones. Eat.”
Castiel scowled slightly before he picked up the sandwich and obediently took a bite.
Bobby sat opposite Dean, watching them both, then directed his eyes at Castiel. “So… when you going to be getting that chunk of angel grace out of Dean?”
His mouth full, Dean could only shoot Bobby a hostile look.
Castiel took care to swallow before he glanced at Dean and replied, “I wouldn’t dare do it now… my powers are not returned enough to make the attempt. Trying to retrieve it when I am weak would just cause Dean unnecessary pain. But soon.”
Dean did his best to maintain a neutral expression at that. He wasn’t going to be disappointed. The grace inside him was never meant to stay in the first place. It was always on loan. He reminded himself of that several times as he sat there with Castiel and Bobby.
The older hunter nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I’ll be glad to see it gone. Dean acts like it’s nothing, but I’ve been worried about how much it’s affected him.”
“Bobby,” Dean growled.
Castiel was suddenly very attentive. “What do you mean?”
Trying to forestall a bad conversation, Dean interjected, “Come on, Cas… you knew that I was getting some fringe benefits from hauling your grace around.”
Castiel looked closely at him. “I’m certain I never used the word ‘benefits’.”
Dean shrugged.
Bobby wasn’t done meddling, and he was getting the sense Castiel was on his side. “Dean here collapsed when you were up there fighting the other angels.”
Castiel’s eyes flew from Bobby to Dean. “Is that true, Dean?”
“Traitor,” Dean hissed at Bobby.
“Hate me if you want, Dean, but I’m worried about you. Something’s going on with you I can’t begin to understand, and I finally have the expert here, so suck it up. I’m going to ask.”
“I’m grateful you told me of this, Bobby,” Castiel said, with heavy sincerity in his voice that made Dean feel like a kid whose father just learned about something wrong he’d done.
“It’s not as bad as Bobby’s making it sound,” Dean argued.
“So is this weird stuff going to stop once you get the grace out?” Bobby asked, undeterred by Dean’s protest.
Castiel looked uncertain. He turned his full attention on Dean and stared. Long and hard, the way he used to stare before Dean lectured him on inappropriate breech of common human decency. It was that look like Castiel was peering straight through him right into his soul.
A wrinkle formed between Castiel’s eyebrows.
“What?” Dean asked, feeling naked under the gaze.
Without asking, Castiel leaned over, pulled up the bottom of Dean’s shirt, slipped his hand inside, and placed his palm on the hunter’s chest. Dean flinched and looked questioningly at Castiel. The grace in him surged, filled him magnificently, made him joyous inside from the sudden skin on skin contact.
Castiel dipped his chin intently, looked up at Dean with a frightening intensity, and Dean found himself unable to resist it. He sat stone-still while Castiel searched him for something. He was acutely aware of Bobby sitting across the table watching the angel basically feel up Dean, and that was epic levels of uncomfortable, but asking for some privacy would only make the situation more awkward. Dean just sat still and gritted his teeth.
The look on Castiel’s face changed from intense to surprised… and aghast. He drew his hand out of Dean’s shirt, pulled away, and stood up abruptly from the table. He looked spooked.
“What is it?” Bobby demanded first.
Castiel took a step back, eyes wide, and looked beseechingly at Dean. “Dean…” the angel said, sounding abrasive, “you should have told me how extensive the effect of my grace was on you.” The bite of scolding to his voice ebbed, replaced with guilt and shame. “But I should have paid closer attention… I let myself get too distracted by the war to see what was happening.” Abject misery was a bad look on Cas; Dean could say that with certainty because the angel’s expression was saturated by it in the next moment. “I am truly very sorry. If I had ever believed this might happen, I would not have burdened you with being the harbor of my grace.”
“What’s wrong, Cas?” Dean asked, though he was almost afraid to.
Never had the angel looked more like he wanted to run… well, except for at that brothel. But at the brothel, he hadn’t looked so devastated, only freaked out.
“It appears that the part of my grace I put in Dean and Dean’s soul have… grown together.”
“What?” Bobby and Dean said in unison.
“How can that even happen?” Bobby growled.
Looking anxious, like a kid who’d broken the television and dreaded his parents coming home, Castiel narrowed his eyes and pinched his lips together. “It shouldn’t have. Human souls are resistant to merging with the energy of another being. It’s why humans serve as angelic vessels as well as they do. My grace and Dean’s soul should have naturally remained separate, even if they shared a single body.”
“Is it because Dean’s the vessel of an Archangel, you think?” Bobby speculated.
Castiel shook his head. “No… if anything, that should make his soul even more adept at keeping itself apart from an angelic presence inside him. The grace of an Archangel is even more potent and overpowering than mine is.”
“So what do we do?” Bobby asked with a frown. “Can you get it out of him?”
Castiel looked absolutely miserable. “No… not without taking part of his soul with it.”
A very tense silence filled the room at that statement.
“So that’s it? Dean’s stuck with your grace forever? Well, what is that going to do to him? Didn’t I tell you this was a bad idea, boy?” Bobby began ranting.
Dean sat there half-listening to them discuss the crisis, oddly calm and disconnected from the immediacy of the matter. He just couldn’t make himself feel worried about the prospect of never being rid of the grace he’d taken in. He knew he probably should be, but he just wasn’t.
The silence in the room made him blink and notice Bobby and Castiel both staring at him. He had to say something.
“I’m sure we’ll figure something out… no reason to panic or rush into anything.” That sounded like a really good thing to say.
Or not. Bobby gaped at him. “This is your soul we’re talking about! Couldn’t you at least look a little concerned?”
From his expression, it was obvious Castiel at least agreed (to an extent) with Bobby.
Dean shrugged and picked up his sandwich again. “Cas and I went into this knowing there might be some unforeseen consequences. We’ll handle it.”
Bobby sat back with a glower at how neatly Dean had severed Bobby from the matter. Castiel looked carefully at Dean.
Dean nudged the chair that Castiel had vacated with his foot. “Sit and eat, Cas.”
Bobby made a disgusted noise and got up and left.
Slowly, Castiel returned to the table and sat down again. His eyes never left Dean in that creepy stalker stare he had. “Dean…”
“Don’t worry, Cas… it’s going to be fine.”
Even if Castiel had doubts, Dean firmly believed it. He just has a gut feeling.
Part Twenty
The sight of Castiel padding around barefoot in an old pair of Dean’s jeans and a worn AC/DC t-shirt would never stop making Dean smile. Both articles of clothing had been stuffed in the bottom of Dean’s bag for years, grown too tight but Dean not quite ready to give up on them (it was a small miracle when some piece of clothing a Winchester owned didn’t meet a violent end… those that survived the hunter lifestyle almost became good luck charms). Now he was glad he hadn’t thrown them out, because Castiel wearing them, that was Christmas card material right there.
Sitting at Bobby’s kitchen table, Castiel cocked his head at Dean and frowned. “Why would you want to give out Christmas cards with my image on them?”
Dean laughed. Bobby, pretending like he wasn’t overhearing it all, just shook his head as he dug through the refrigerator for lunchmeat.
Things with Bobby had been a little awkward, but only because Dean woke up in the late morning with a sleeping, naked Castiel draped over him and a blanket thrown over the both of them. A blanket they had not had when they fell asleep. Which could only mean Bobby popped in, saw them cuddled up like everything they’d falsely told Sam they were, and spread a blanket over them… all without waking either man. Dean wasn’t really sure what made him more uncomfortable… that Bobby had seen Castiel sleeping or that Bobby had seen the angel’s lily-white ass. That had to be sacrilegious or something.
To his credit, Bobby didn’t say a word about it. And Castiel didn’t seem bothered by Bobby peeping on his goods, but then, Castiel wouldn’t understand that he ought to be. So Dean felt it fell to him to be embarrassed for Cas.
“Now that we know your angel’s saved the world,” Bobby said as he closed the refrigerator door with his foot, hands full, “we should get the word out.”
Castiel just nodded solemnly.
Dean, standing at the counter, slathered three slices of bread with mustard. “It’s nice to get to be the bearers of good news for a change.” With the supplies Bobby had fetched, Dean threw together three heavily-stuffed sandwiches. Bobby snatched up one plate while Dean carried the other two plates to the table. He set one down in front of Castiel and sat down to Castiel’s left.
Castiel eyed the food dubiously. “This isn’t necessary, Dean. I don’t require food.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll believe that when you’ve got meat back on your bones. Eat.”
Castiel scowled slightly before he picked up the sandwich and obediently took a bite.
Bobby sat opposite Dean, watching them both, then directed his eyes at Castiel. “So… when you going to be getting that chunk of angel grace out of Dean?”
His mouth full, Dean could only shoot Bobby a hostile look.
Castiel took care to swallow before he glanced at Dean and replied, “I wouldn’t dare do it now… my powers are not returned enough to make the attempt. Trying to retrieve it when I am weak would just cause Dean unnecessary pain. But soon.”
Dean did his best to maintain a neutral expression at that. He wasn’t going to be disappointed. The grace inside him was never meant to stay in the first place. It was always on loan. He reminded himself of that several times as he sat there with Castiel and Bobby.
The older hunter nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I’ll be glad to see it gone. Dean acts like it’s nothing, but I’ve been worried about how much it’s affected him.”
“Bobby,” Dean growled.
Castiel was suddenly very attentive. “What do you mean?”
Trying to forestall a bad conversation, Dean interjected, “Come on, Cas… you knew that I was getting some fringe benefits from hauling your grace around.”
Castiel looked closely at him. “I’m certain I never used the word ‘benefits’.”
Dean shrugged.
Bobby wasn’t done meddling, and he was getting the sense Castiel was on his side. “Dean here collapsed when you were up there fighting the other angels.”
Castiel’s eyes flew from Bobby to Dean. “Is that true, Dean?”
“Traitor,” Dean hissed at Bobby.
“Hate me if you want, Dean, but I’m worried about you. Something’s going on with you I can’t begin to understand, and I finally have the expert here, so suck it up. I’m going to ask.”
“I’m grateful you told me of this, Bobby,” Castiel said, with heavy sincerity in his voice that made Dean feel like a kid whose father just learned about something wrong he’d done.
“It’s not as bad as Bobby’s making it sound,” Dean argued.
“So is this weird stuff going to stop once you get the grace out?” Bobby asked, undeterred by Dean’s protest.
Castiel looked uncertain. He turned his full attention on Dean and stared. Long and hard, the way he used to stare before Dean lectured him on inappropriate breech of common human decency. It was that look like Castiel was peering straight through him right into his soul.
A wrinkle formed between Castiel’s eyebrows.
“What?” Dean asked, feeling naked under the gaze.
Without asking, Castiel leaned over, pulled up the bottom of Dean’s shirt, slipped his hand inside, and placed his palm on the hunter’s chest. Dean flinched and looked questioningly at Castiel. The grace in him surged, filled him magnificently, made him joyous inside from the sudden skin on skin contact.
Castiel dipped his chin intently, looked up at Dean with a frightening intensity, and Dean found himself unable to resist it. He sat stone-still while Castiel searched him for something. He was acutely aware of Bobby sitting across the table watching the angel basically feel up Dean, and that was epic levels of uncomfortable, but asking for some privacy would only make the situation more awkward. Dean just sat still and gritted his teeth.
The look on Castiel’s face changed from intense to surprised… and aghast. He drew his hand out of Dean’s shirt, pulled away, and stood up abruptly from the table. He looked spooked.
“What is it?” Bobby demanded first.
Castiel took a step back, eyes wide, and looked beseechingly at Dean. “Dean…” the angel said, sounding abrasive, “you should have told me how extensive the effect of my grace was on you.” The bite of scolding to his voice ebbed, replaced with guilt and shame. “But I should have paid closer attention… I let myself get too distracted by the war to see what was happening.” Abject misery was a bad look on Cas; Dean could say that with certainty because the angel’s expression was saturated by it in the next moment. “I am truly very sorry. If I had ever believed this might happen, I would not have burdened you with being the harbor of my grace.”
“What’s wrong, Cas?” Dean asked, though he was almost afraid to.
Never had the angel looked more like he wanted to run… well, except for at that brothel. But at the brothel, he hadn’t looked so devastated, only freaked out.
“It appears that the part of my grace I put in Dean and Dean’s soul have… grown together.”
“What?” Bobby and Dean said in unison.
“How can that even happen?” Bobby growled.
Looking anxious, like a kid who’d broken the television and dreaded his parents coming home, Castiel narrowed his eyes and pinched his lips together. “It shouldn’t have. Human souls are resistant to merging with the energy of another being. It’s why humans serve as angelic vessels as well as they do. My grace and Dean’s soul should have naturally remained separate, even if they shared a single body.”
“Is it because Dean’s the vessel of an Archangel, you think?” Bobby speculated.
Castiel shook his head. “No… if anything, that should make his soul even more adept at keeping itself apart from an angelic presence inside him. The grace of an Archangel is even more potent and overpowering than mine is.”
“So what do we do?” Bobby asked with a frown. “Can you get it out of him?”
Castiel looked absolutely miserable. “No… not without taking part of his soul with it.”
A very tense silence filled the room at that statement.
“So that’s it? Dean’s stuck with your grace forever? Well, what is that going to do to him? Didn’t I tell you this was a bad idea, boy?” Bobby began ranting.
Dean sat there half-listening to them discuss the crisis, oddly calm and disconnected from the immediacy of the matter. He just couldn’t make himself feel worried about the prospect of never being rid of the grace he’d taken in. He knew he probably should be, but he just wasn’t.
The silence in the room made him blink and notice Bobby and Castiel both staring at him. He had to say something.
“I’m sure we’ll figure something out… no reason to panic or rush into anything.” That sounded like a really good thing to say.
Or not. Bobby gaped at him. “This is your soul we’re talking about! Couldn’t you at least look a little concerned?”
From his expression, it was obvious Castiel at least agreed (to an extent) with Bobby.
Dean shrugged and picked up his sandwich again. “Cas and I went into this knowing there might be some unforeseen consequences. We’ll handle it.”
Bobby sat back with a glower at how neatly Dean had severed Bobby from the matter. Castiel looked carefully at Dean.
Dean nudged the chair that Castiel had vacated with his foot. “Sit and eat, Cas.”
Bobby made a disgusted noise and got up and left.
Slowly, Castiel returned to the table and sat down again. His eyes never left Dean in that creepy stalker stare he had. “Dean…”
“Don’t worry, Cas… it’s going to be fine.”
Even if Castiel had doubts, Dean firmly believed it. He just has a gut feeling.
Part Twenty