Unexpected Destinies Chapter 58
Title: Unexpected Destinies
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 2,344
Summary: "Yes. Hop on in, Mike."
PAST
When Michael stepped forwards, towards him, Dean couldn't help it, he flinched.
"Sorry," Dean said, biting his lip and lowering his eyes.
"Dean," Michael replied and cupped his face.
And really, the archangel was luckily his current vessel was female as Dean was sure he'd have taken a swing if male hands other then Castiel's had done that. Or rather, he was lucky that Michael's current vessel was female as it was his hand that would be broken and not Michael's face. But, really, that was only part of it.
"Dude, what's with you and touching my face anyway?"
Michael blinked, seemingly as startled as he was by the realization. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see Castiel shift and knew his lover had only just noticed this habit of his brother's as well. Odd, that, he'd have thought that of all of them, his lover would have been the first pick up on it, what with his jealous streak and all. Could it be that his angel hadn't seen it because this was normal behavior for an angel around his would be vessel? But no, that couldn't be as most angels wouldn't already be in another, less suited vessel when they approached their true vessel.
Dean tried to shove the thought aside as he recognized it for the desperate attempt at distraction that it was. Although he knew that he often tried to deny things that he didn't want to deal with, he did not make it a habit to cower away from situations close at hand and this one most definitely was.
"I am making you uncomfortable," Michael stated, drawing back. "My apologies, that was not my intention."
"Then what was?" Dean asked, genuinely curious now.
That type of touch was so far from normal, ordinary angelic behavior that he was really interested as to what was driving it. Sure, Castiel had learned the comfort and reassurance of touch, but Dean certainly didn't expect an archangel like Michael to be able to understand that. It was far too human a concept for God's firstborn angel.
"Rather the opposite of its obvious effect," Michael replied somewhat wryly. "I have observed humans doing it to each other when the recipient is clearly in distress."
Okay, so obviously he'd been wrong. Although Dean truly doubted that Michael fully comprehended what it was he was trying to mimic, it wasn't a bad idea to try and imitate that which he'd seen. At the very least, it showed an effort on the archangel's part, first in actually noticing and understanding what was happening and then in attempting to attain the same outcome later on with him.
"Okay, thanks for the thought, but that's something that's kinda personal," Dean explained.
"I do no understand."
"No, of course not. Look, I get that you don't get it, but trust me on this, that's not something you can just go around doing to people, okay? That type of touch is reserved for people who know each other well and are comfortable around one another, it's not something you do to complete strangers or simple acquaintances."
"Why?"
"Because it just is. Look, if you go around doing that to people, you could get me into serious trouble."
As he'd hoped, Dean saw Michael's face cloud over at that. The last thing he needed was to get his meatsuit back only to discover that the archangel had inadvertently put him back on the legal radar only this time as a pervert that couldn't keep his hands to himself. And wouldn't that have been ironic given Castiel's near complete lack of touching at first?
"I would not have performed this ritual with other humans, but I shall remember that."
"Great."
This time when Michael stepped closer, Dean was able to contain his instinctive flinch, but that was about the only thing he could control. His heart rate kicked up into overtime to the point where he began to wonder that Castiel and Michael didn't seem to be able to hear it. It felt like it was trying to beat it's way out of his chest, how could they not hear that? His breathing also picked up and it was all he could do to stop himself from hyperventilating. It was not something he was particularly prone to, but he felt he was justified in this case, knowing what was coming.
Knowing what he'd agreed to.
Dean swallowed thickly at the thought. He wanted to look back at Castiel, to make sure his lover knew exactly how he felt about him, but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything but look at the archangel before him, the archangel that he'd already given permission to.
The archangel that was going to take him as his vessel.
The terror was nearly all consuming and worse then anything he'd ever felt except for- No! He was not going to think about that, not now. The last thing Dean needed was to totally lose it just now. Not only didn't he want Michael to know exactly how much this terrified him- ha! and just how stupid was that sentiment seeing as the archangel was going to be inside him soon and would probably be able to pluck it all right out of his mind?- but he was painfully aware of Castiel's presence. Somehow that had gone from being comforting to being something he dreaded. It was a silly notion as his angel was infinitely more aware of what was about to happen then he had any hope of being, but he suddenly didn't want his lover have to witness this. To see him become... other. If there had been any hope at all of Castiel not seeing him when he was Michael's vessel, he'd not hesitate to ask him to leave, but as it was he knew that was never going to happen. Besides, he didn't think that was entirely his decision to make anymore and there was a part of him that didn't want Cas to leave. It wanted his lover here with him for this.
He was sweating now as well and Dean nearly jumped right out of his skin as Michael laid a hand on his arm.
"Come, sit on the bed," Michael said.
"Why?"
Dean was only all too acutely aware of the defiant edge to his voice but he couldn't help it. All of his life, his anger and sarcastic nature had been his automatic responses to fear and those instincts were simply too ingrained for him to easily overcome them now.
"Because your aunt is no longer here and so when I vacate her body, there will be nothing to keep her from falling," Michael replied softly.
The gentleness of the tone irked Dean as he realized that the archangel was effectively treating him like one would a wild animal not quite tamed yet. He didn't get why Michael didn't just get on with it. He had his precious permission, what more did he want? The prolonged wait was merely making him more nervous as it gave him more time to think about what was coming and he hated that. There was a reason why he preferred to jump headlong into things instead of taking it slower as Sam had tried to get him to do for years now. No, if he was going to face something, then he wanted to do it now, damnit, instead of waiting around for his psyche to conjure up all kinds of horrible 'what if' scenarios. What would come, would come and there was no point delaying the inevitable. He preferred to just grab the bull by the horns and get it over with.
"Damnit, will you just do it already?" Dean demanded when he sat down on the bed and it looked like Michael was going to start talking again. "The suspense is killing me, man!"
He only got to see the startled look on Michael's face for a moment because the pained and desperate sound that came from his left had Dean's head snapping around to look at his lover. He had only a second of warning before Castiel was right there, claiming his lips in a desperate and ruthless kiss. He was helpless to do anything under the onslaught but cling to his lover as Castiel clasped him hard enough to bruise, one hand inexorably drawn to the mark on his shoulder despite the layers of clothing obscuring it.
The kiss reminded Dean of the frantic and possessive way Castiel had touched him not even two hours ago and he gave himself over completely to it. All too soon the need to breathe forced them apart, but he didn't let them get far from each other, locking his gaze with that of his lover.
"I love you," Dean whispered, the words flowing easily.
Castiel's eyes closed and he looked almost in pain, throat working uselessly for a few seconds before his angel seemed to steel himself. "I love you too, Dean."
Then Castiel was pulling away from him, turning his head away as if he couldn't bear to witness what happened next. Dean felt another stab of pain at what he was putting his lover through before there was a hand on his shoulder- the unmarked one- and another at his upper chest just where it met his throat. Before he had the chance to really think about it, warmth and energy skittered along his skin like the electrical charge just before a powerful lightning strike and then there was light. Bright, purifying, all encompassing light and he slammed his eyes shut on instinct.
"Shh, relax, Dean, I won't harm you," the voice was half his aunt and half something else, high, echoing and powerful. Michael's, he realized with a start. "You can look if you want to."
Almost automatically, Dean opened his eyes once more to find Michael leaning in close and his eyes were caught by the archangel's powerful gaze. The light was all around him, no all around them, now and he could feel the alien sensation of something starting to sink into him even as he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the sight before him. There was a rustle of movement over Michael's shoulders- wings? perhaps- but his attention was captured by the blaze within the archangel's human eyes and mouth. It took him right back to that warehouse where he, Sammy and Jimmy had tried to save Jimmy's family and he'd ended up witnessing Castiel kicking ass in a little girl's meatsuit before transferring back to Jimmy.
The warmth and energy was steadily taking on a far more electrical charge and was becoming distinctly sentient as it sank deeper into him and Dean couldn't help it, he struggled. Almost his whole life he'd been told to never give himself over to anything; he had been warned about demons that wanted nothing more then to crawl inside him and take over his meatsuit, so to feel something trying to do that now triggered his instinctive reactions.
"Dean, please do not fight me," Michael requested, voice gentle but strained. "Please do not resist. Just let me in, Little One."
Dean grasped at the remaining link to the outside and what was happening for all that he was worth but it was so incredibly difficult. His instincts and the terror clawing within him were screaming at him to fight, to not just give in even if he didn't stand a chance of winning this particular battle. He did his best to control himself and just let it happen, but it became increasingly harder as the warmth and energy and charge around him grew progressively stronger and more sentient, coalescing into a distinctive presence- into Michael- and he had a bad moment when he realized that it was the archangel's Grace that he was experiencing all around him.
A series of desperate little noises escape him as the archangel's Grace seemed to sink into his body and then Dean jolted as he felt it inside of him. It wasn't at all like what he'd felt earlier when he'd thought it to be in him, no that had been purely physical, whereas this was... this was...
This was inside him. The sensory overload that came with so suddenly being made unavoidably aware of an entirely new part of himself nearly had Dean blacking out, but he stubbornly clung to awareness for all he was worth, completely unable to overcome that particular instinct not to pass out if he could at all help it.
"Relax, Little One, hush."
The voice no longer sounded like his aunt at all, but was now purely Michael's and seemed to come from all around him. It was followed a touch to what he instantly recognized as his soul as the archangel's Grace seemed to slid over it, pushing it down before slowly curling around it until he could feel the little electrical shocks of Michael's very essence all around himself.
It was with a start that Dean realized that his aunt's eyes were no longer glowing with their own light, but were rather reflecting the glow from his own eyes back at him. The knowledge caused another hard spike of panic to shoot through him before things shifted with an almost audible click and just like that he was plunged into total sensory deprivation as he lost all connection with his meatsuit.
The light- Grace- was still there however, swirling around him, shocking him with little jolts wherever it touched him and Dean felt the absurd desire to laugh hysterically bubble up within him as he recalled Jimmy's comment about it feeling like he was chained to a comet. This wasn't anywhere near that, this was so much, infinitely, worse then that. It was raw and powerful and charged and... and...
There was a shift in the Grace around him and Dean's consciousness faded abruptly as a jolt that felt like a lightning bolt struck him and effectively short-circuited his soul.
A.N.: Oh, I'm sorry, did you guys really think that this chapter would resolve the angst and break the cliffhanger? So sorry. *evil grin*
Chapter 59
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 2,344
Summary: "Yes. Hop on in, Mike."
PAST
When Michael stepped forwards, towards him, Dean couldn't help it, he flinched.
"Sorry," Dean said, biting his lip and lowering his eyes.
"Dean," Michael replied and cupped his face.
And really, the archangel was luckily his current vessel was female as Dean was sure he'd have taken a swing if male hands other then Castiel's had done that. Or rather, he was lucky that Michael's current vessel was female as it was his hand that would be broken and not Michael's face. But, really, that was only part of it.
"Dude, what's with you and touching my face anyway?"
Michael blinked, seemingly as startled as he was by the realization. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see Castiel shift and knew his lover had only just noticed this habit of his brother's as well. Odd, that, he'd have thought that of all of them, his lover would have been the first pick up on it, what with his jealous streak and all. Could it be that his angel hadn't seen it because this was normal behavior for an angel around his would be vessel? But no, that couldn't be as most angels wouldn't already be in another, less suited vessel when they approached their true vessel.
Dean tried to shove the thought aside as he recognized it for the desperate attempt at distraction that it was. Although he knew that he often tried to deny things that he didn't want to deal with, he did not make it a habit to cower away from situations close at hand and this one most definitely was.
"I am making you uncomfortable," Michael stated, drawing back. "My apologies, that was not my intention."
"Then what was?" Dean asked, genuinely curious now.
That type of touch was so far from normal, ordinary angelic behavior that he was really interested as to what was driving it. Sure, Castiel had learned the comfort and reassurance of touch, but Dean certainly didn't expect an archangel like Michael to be able to understand that. It was far too human a concept for God's firstborn angel.
"Rather the opposite of its obvious effect," Michael replied somewhat wryly. "I have observed humans doing it to each other when the recipient is clearly in distress."
Okay, so obviously he'd been wrong. Although Dean truly doubted that Michael fully comprehended what it was he was trying to mimic, it wasn't a bad idea to try and imitate that which he'd seen. At the very least, it showed an effort on the archangel's part, first in actually noticing and understanding what was happening and then in attempting to attain the same outcome later on with him.
"Okay, thanks for the thought, but that's something that's kinda personal," Dean explained.
"I do no understand."
"No, of course not. Look, I get that you don't get it, but trust me on this, that's not something you can just go around doing to people, okay? That type of touch is reserved for people who know each other well and are comfortable around one another, it's not something you do to complete strangers or simple acquaintances."
"Why?"
"Because it just is. Look, if you go around doing that to people, you could get me into serious trouble."
As he'd hoped, Dean saw Michael's face cloud over at that. The last thing he needed was to get his meatsuit back only to discover that the archangel had inadvertently put him back on the legal radar only this time as a pervert that couldn't keep his hands to himself. And wouldn't that have been ironic given Castiel's near complete lack of touching at first?
"I would not have performed this ritual with other humans, but I shall remember that."
"Great."
This time when Michael stepped closer, Dean was able to contain his instinctive flinch, but that was about the only thing he could control. His heart rate kicked up into overtime to the point where he began to wonder that Castiel and Michael didn't seem to be able to hear it. It felt like it was trying to beat it's way out of his chest, how could they not hear that? His breathing also picked up and it was all he could do to stop himself from hyperventilating. It was not something he was particularly prone to, but he felt he was justified in this case, knowing what was coming.
Knowing what he'd agreed to.
Dean swallowed thickly at the thought. He wanted to look back at Castiel, to make sure his lover knew exactly how he felt about him, but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything but look at the archangel before him, the archangel that he'd already given permission to.
The archangel that was going to take him as his vessel.
The terror was nearly all consuming and worse then anything he'd ever felt except for- No! He was not going to think about that, not now. The last thing Dean needed was to totally lose it just now. Not only didn't he want Michael to know exactly how much this terrified him- ha! and just how stupid was that sentiment seeing as the archangel was going to be inside him soon and would probably be able to pluck it all right out of his mind?- but he was painfully aware of Castiel's presence. Somehow that had gone from being comforting to being something he dreaded. It was a silly notion as his angel was infinitely more aware of what was about to happen then he had any hope of being, but he suddenly didn't want his lover have to witness this. To see him become... other. If there had been any hope at all of Castiel not seeing him when he was Michael's vessel, he'd not hesitate to ask him to leave, but as it was he knew that was never going to happen. Besides, he didn't think that was entirely his decision to make anymore and there was a part of him that didn't want Cas to leave. It wanted his lover here with him for this.
He was sweating now as well and Dean nearly jumped right out of his skin as Michael laid a hand on his arm.
"Come, sit on the bed," Michael said.
"Why?"
Dean was only all too acutely aware of the defiant edge to his voice but he couldn't help it. All of his life, his anger and sarcastic nature had been his automatic responses to fear and those instincts were simply too ingrained for him to easily overcome them now.
"Because your aunt is no longer here and so when I vacate her body, there will be nothing to keep her from falling," Michael replied softly.
The gentleness of the tone irked Dean as he realized that the archangel was effectively treating him like one would a wild animal not quite tamed yet. He didn't get why Michael didn't just get on with it. He had his precious permission, what more did he want? The prolonged wait was merely making him more nervous as it gave him more time to think about what was coming and he hated that. There was a reason why he preferred to jump headlong into things instead of taking it slower as Sam had tried to get him to do for years now. No, if he was going to face something, then he wanted to do it now, damnit, instead of waiting around for his psyche to conjure up all kinds of horrible 'what if' scenarios. What would come, would come and there was no point delaying the inevitable. He preferred to just grab the bull by the horns and get it over with.
"Damnit, will you just do it already?" Dean demanded when he sat down on the bed and it looked like Michael was going to start talking again. "The suspense is killing me, man!"
He only got to see the startled look on Michael's face for a moment because the pained and desperate sound that came from his left had Dean's head snapping around to look at his lover. He had only a second of warning before Castiel was right there, claiming his lips in a desperate and ruthless kiss. He was helpless to do anything under the onslaught but cling to his lover as Castiel clasped him hard enough to bruise, one hand inexorably drawn to the mark on his shoulder despite the layers of clothing obscuring it.
The kiss reminded Dean of the frantic and possessive way Castiel had touched him not even two hours ago and he gave himself over completely to it. All too soon the need to breathe forced them apart, but he didn't let them get far from each other, locking his gaze with that of his lover.
"I love you," Dean whispered, the words flowing easily.
Castiel's eyes closed and he looked almost in pain, throat working uselessly for a few seconds before his angel seemed to steel himself. "I love you too, Dean."
Then Castiel was pulling away from him, turning his head away as if he couldn't bear to witness what happened next. Dean felt another stab of pain at what he was putting his lover through before there was a hand on his shoulder- the unmarked one- and another at his upper chest just where it met his throat. Before he had the chance to really think about it, warmth and energy skittered along his skin like the electrical charge just before a powerful lightning strike and then there was light. Bright, purifying, all encompassing light and he slammed his eyes shut on instinct.
"Shh, relax, Dean, I won't harm you," the voice was half his aunt and half something else, high, echoing and powerful. Michael's, he realized with a start. "You can look if you want to."
Almost automatically, Dean opened his eyes once more to find Michael leaning in close and his eyes were caught by the archangel's powerful gaze. The light was all around him, no all around them, now and he could feel the alien sensation of something starting to sink into him even as he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the sight before him. There was a rustle of movement over Michael's shoulders- wings? perhaps- but his attention was captured by the blaze within the archangel's human eyes and mouth. It took him right back to that warehouse where he, Sammy and Jimmy had tried to save Jimmy's family and he'd ended up witnessing Castiel kicking ass in a little girl's meatsuit before transferring back to Jimmy.
The warmth and energy was steadily taking on a far more electrical charge and was becoming distinctly sentient as it sank deeper into him and Dean couldn't help it, he struggled. Almost his whole life he'd been told to never give himself over to anything; he had been warned about demons that wanted nothing more then to crawl inside him and take over his meatsuit, so to feel something trying to do that now triggered his instinctive reactions.
"Dean, please do not fight me," Michael requested, voice gentle but strained. "Please do not resist. Just let me in, Little One."
Dean grasped at the remaining link to the outside and what was happening for all that he was worth but it was so incredibly difficult. His instincts and the terror clawing within him were screaming at him to fight, to not just give in even if he didn't stand a chance of winning this particular battle. He did his best to control himself and just let it happen, but it became increasingly harder as the warmth and energy and charge around him grew progressively stronger and more sentient, coalescing into a distinctive presence- into Michael- and he had a bad moment when he realized that it was the archangel's Grace that he was experiencing all around him.
A series of desperate little noises escape him as the archangel's Grace seemed to sink into his body and then Dean jolted as he felt it inside of him. It wasn't at all like what he'd felt earlier when he'd thought it to be in him, no that had been purely physical, whereas this was... this was...
This was inside him. The sensory overload that came with so suddenly being made unavoidably aware of an entirely new part of himself nearly had Dean blacking out, but he stubbornly clung to awareness for all he was worth, completely unable to overcome that particular instinct not to pass out if he could at all help it.
"Relax, Little One, hush."
The voice no longer sounded like his aunt at all, but was now purely Michael's and seemed to come from all around him. It was followed a touch to what he instantly recognized as his soul as the archangel's Grace seemed to slid over it, pushing it down before slowly curling around it until he could feel the little electrical shocks of Michael's very essence all around himself.
It was with a start that Dean realized that his aunt's eyes were no longer glowing with their own light, but were rather reflecting the glow from his own eyes back at him. The knowledge caused another hard spike of panic to shoot through him before things shifted with an almost audible click and just like that he was plunged into total sensory deprivation as he lost all connection with his meatsuit.
The light- Grace- was still there however, swirling around him, shocking him with little jolts wherever it touched him and Dean felt the absurd desire to laugh hysterically bubble up within him as he recalled Jimmy's comment about it feeling like he was chained to a comet. This wasn't anywhere near that, this was so much, infinitely, worse then that. It was raw and powerful and charged and... and...
There was a shift in the Grace around him and Dean's consciousness faded abruptly as a jolt that felt like a lightning bolt struck him and effectively short-circuited his soul.
A.N.: Oh, I'm sorry, did you guys really think that this chapter would resolve the angst and break the cliffhanger? So sorry. *evil grin*
Chapter 59