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Title: Selfless
Author:[ profile] vankoss
Word Count: 4685
Timing: Season 5, Post Episode 10
Warning: Angst,  so much angst.
Rating: NC-17.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, if i did, it would have dragons and catgirls, and Dean would be humping Cas all day long
Summary: What makes love possible? What makes love endure? Or the try only leads to pain?
Notes: Stand-alone or series? not sure yest, but i wrote this a time ago so i thing is time to post it, i feel better now.
Special Thanks to: Aescu for the most awesomest beta test, whith highlights and color leyends!! <3


The sun rises slowly, almost shy, dissipating the tick shadows that dwelt in the room. Old bookshelves and furniture, battered paintings and amulets visible again. A few empty bottles lie scattered on the floor, constant reminders of Dean’s desire to forget.


Castiel watches silently from the shadows, were the sun is scared to reach. He does not know what to say to Dean, who looks at him from the bed with an empty crystal stare. The angel knows that any word he could muster, will trigger the wrath of the hunter. Dean is waiting there, with swollen viridian eyes, any word from Castiel, to release his wrath.


Sam cried that night, like he had not cried in years. He went outside to moan, to curse, to yell, so no one would know of his pain, yet Bobby, Dean and Castiel heard him trough the night. That night all of them mourned the friends they lost, those two brave women, that gave their lives so they could have a shot at the devil, a shot that was thrown in vain.


Bobby nurses a bottle of whiskey in front of the fireplace, in an endless dialogue with his own head, were the regrets and worthlessness roam freely, slashing everything on their way. The timid light of dawn kisses the crystal bottle, sparkles dancing on it, or are they his own tears? He looks at the ashes, were that last photo of them lies charred. A small funeral for Jo and Ellen. Sweet Ellen, and the bottle goes yet again to Bobby’s lips.


Dean rises the bottle of scotch again, and his throat feels sore, his eyes water, yet he keeps drinking, he keeps poisoning himself, How long has it been? Six? Seven hours? It is still not enough to drown that pain in his chest. He barely has closed his eyes, because every time he shuts them, he sees Jo’s face, resigned to die. He wishes he could have done better, he wishes he could have saved her, both. Every time he closes his eyes, there is sweet Jo, prepared to die. He only could gave her a last kiss to comfort her. It was the only thing he could do. The hunter swallows the brown liquid again, his eyes watering anew.


The angel is in pain too, he can not see Dean like this, punishing himself, as he tends to do. He has been keeping him company thought all of the night. It is the only thing he can do. He knows that if he talks, the hunter will scorn him, yell at him, probably punch him. It is what Dean needs, he needs to vent his frustration and his sorrows, it is the only thing he can do, so he does it. He gives him an opening.


“They did what they thought was the best course of action. Their sacrifice saved your lives, They will be remembered”


            Castiel almost prepares himself for the scold, but Dean just keep staring at him, and then, he laughs, the sound empty as a shell buried in the sand. The is puzzled.


“That’s the best you got?” Says the hunter in his frantic laughter.


            Dean drinks and swallows hard again, but he keeps laughing like a mad man. Castiel frowns, unable to comprehend what is so funny, unable to comprehend what it is that Dean wants or needs. He can not read the hunter as well as he used to.


“You’re a mannequin, a soulless, fucking mannequin” Castiel gulps as Dean drinks yet again, as his speech is not slurred enough. The angel does not knows what he means.


“Of course you don’t know what I mean, Don’t you?”


“I...” The words roam Castiel's mouth unable to leave. Dean leaps off the bed and reaches Castiel in the blink of an eye. The hunter places his hand on the angel’s chest at the same time the bottle spills on the hard wooden floor.


“You don’t feel shit” Dean clenches his hand on Castiel’s shirt, the words coming out heavy and hard, almost making his throat bleed.


“You know that I feel... for you” Says Castiel, matter of factly. But the hunter just grins darkly, his eyes trying to scape the angel’s penetrating glance.


“Jo and Ellen died yesterday, you drank with them, you knew them... and the only thing you say is that their sacrifice was of worth?” Dean’s voice seems to rise, but there is no strength in him for that. He just collapses on top of Castiel, clenching greedy hands on his wrists, making sure that he is indeed real.


“Dean... I’m sorry”


“I don’t want you to be sorry Cas” The frustration bleeds from his words, like if it is a battle fought so many times, always lost. “I want you to be angry, I want you to cry with me, I want you to curse the world with me for taking them away. I want you to be real, that is what I need” The hunter faces the angel, his swollen green eyes being lit by the rising sun “But there isn’t enough human in you for that shit”


The hunter hardly can stand up, but he does. Staggering he leaves the room, without looking back. The angel just remains sitting on the corner, he feels a pain in his chest, different than anything he felt before, because he has just realized that he his not what Dean needs.






A week passes, and things have not changed. When Dean talks to Cas, it is like he talks to a resource, a weapon, a thing. Castiel starts to feel lost, he does not exist without Dean. The words of that hunter that has held him in ecstasy burn like acid. There’s not enough human in you. He tries, he tries everyday to understand those things that seem so important to Dean. Sometimes he his fascinated by them, the taste of beer, the listening of noisy music, but as an Angel he has experienced beauty that would burn the eyes of the hunter out. He forsake those beautiful truths to be with him, he left an eternity of joy to be with him in this mortal plane, but Dean doesn’t seem to see that. Castiel thinks he should feel anger, wrath, but he just feels lost. Perhaps that is, there is not enough human in him to be with Dean. They are so different and share nothing in common, worlds apart on everything. He loves Dean, that should be enough, that should compensate for the things he does not know nor understand. But does he love me?.


“Dean, you are not going to believe this” Sam storms into the room were Dean cleans his guns, meticulously, over and over again. The older Winshester just mumbles something. “Dude, is the Trickst... Gabriel, he wants to help us”


“Sam, it's a trap” And a bottle of beer is on Dean’s lips. All he has done that week has been cleaning and drinking.


“I know it could be, Dean, but he says that Heaven is after him, they want to kill him before he has the chance to join Lucifer. He says that if we don’t help him, he will do it” Sam rises his hand to his head and sighs “We can’t take that chance”


            The older Winchester remains silent, continuing is almost frantic cleaning. Sam grows impatient, tapping the floor with his foot.


“And why do you know all this?”


“He appeared to me in a dream, he gave me an address”


“And didn’t you think...?” The older Winchester kicks the table, little metal pieces flying trough the air “That that dick Zachariah could have eavesdropped on you two?”


“Gabriel has managed to stay out from our radar for ages” Castiel walks trough the kitchen’s door frame.“ If he doesn’t want to be found, he most probably won’t, but we have to act quickly” Sam tilts his head almost saying See?.


“Thank you Castiel” Dean says emotionless as he picks the scattered metal pieces “Let Bobby know, as soon as I’m ready, we leave” Sam nods slowly, glancing at Castiel on his way out. When was the last time his brother called the angel 'Castiel'? “We’ll need you as back up” The angel shortly feels Dean’s eyes on his own, green eyes that say nothing. A nothing that says too much. The stare his gone, as well is Dean.


            The Winchesters get in the car with Bobby waving goodbye. The engine starts purring and Dean checks the rear view  mirror.


“And Castiel?”


“He said he would follow us” Sam makes an uncomfortable face “Dude, what happened between you two?”


“I don’t know what you are talking about” Sam tries to meet his brother eyes, but he just keeps looking at the road as the car starts to move.


“Since when do you call him Castiel? Is there anything you want to tell me” But Dean remains silent, focused on the road. “Because seriously Dean, it seems...”


“Drop it Sam, ‘cause I swear that if you say another word, I'll knock all your teeth out” He is not joking. The younger brother sighs.


“Well... I’m here if you need to talk” Dean does not answer, hands clenched on the steering wheel. Sam has an idea of what it is all about, he knows that there is something more between his brother and the angel, but that is a conversation that must take place in company of copious amounts of alcohol. He is banging Cas, I’m sure he is banging Cas.




            The impala slowly parks outside a warehouse at midnight, Sam looks at the address in his hand, and a chill runds down his spine. He has come to not like warehouses at all, specially those with dim lighting and cracking metal doors. The brothers open the doors carefully, but the sound of rusty hinges opening breaks all calm. Yeah, crappy lighting Sam musters as they walk the hard asphalt floor, their steps echoing heavily, almost augmented by the shadows. The place itself is nothing out of the ordinary: broken tall windows, piles of rusted metal, ropes and chains hanging lifelessly from the ceiling, everything only barely visible in the moonless night. And the freakingly dim lighting does not help either.


“Hey! Nice to see you guys!” Gabriel appears out of nowhere in the middle of the building, a hanging lamp casting light directly on him. He seems cheerful as usual, but the terror can be read in his eyes, his face like a mask ready to fall. The almighty Trickster is as scared as a little bitch. Dean can not help himself from grinning like a bastard.


“What happened with no dipping the pen in the ink?” The older Winchester smiles cocky as they stop a few feet away from the Archangel. Sam, in the other hand, remains serious, holding a blade that at least gives him a fake, although comforting, sense of security. Castiel appears behind the boys in a russtle of feathers.. “Are you...scared, Gabe?” And Dean can’t help himself for going the extra mile.


“Don’t fuck with me Winchester, this is all your fault, you hear me!” Gabriel jumps at him and grabs Dean’s jacket with despair, who just looks away. It seems that everything is Dean’s fault, and it is mostly correct “Look guys, I know we have a history together” Gabriel lets go of the hunter and walks in circles, stepping on an old blanket “But, I really need your help now... Heaven wants me dead”


“Can’t you just keep hiding like a puss?” Gabriel gives Dean a hateful look, but then lowers his eyes, he looks so tired, so defeated.


“They are sending everything they got to kill me. It’s a matter of time before the big shots come here”


“Is Cas on the black list too?” Castiel snorts a little when it is Sam who asks the question. Dean hears it, but it is neither the time nor the place for that, so he just looks at Cas from the corner of his eyes and sighs.


“They just can let him rot in here, they give a damn.” Gabriel says with what could only be described as playful despise “But me? No. Gabe, Archangel on the loose. It’s more complicated. The bastards need to cancell my show” Gabriel says bitterly, he knows that he left Heaven, he just could not pick a side so he shunned himself, but he would never kill a brother, yet now they come for him, to end his existence.


“So, what do you want from us? And more important...” Sam rises his chin without taking his eyes out of Gabriel and asks gently “...How can you help us?”. He hates his guts and with good reasons, but a potential ally is a potential ally. So he talks to him as calm as he can.


“Nice Sammy, no rodeos!” Gabriel stops walking as he smiles, tilting his head to the side. He raises his arm, pointing at Castiel “I need you, pretty boy, to make a ward on me, and...” sighing faces the Winchesters “I’ll give him a share of my Grace in payment”. Sam gulps heavily as the Angel looks at his older brother expressionless.


“We’ll think about it” Dean starts to walk away, but Gabriel shrieks in panic.


“You don’t understand moron!, They are this close of sending the powers that be, we have to do this now!. It’s just a matter of time ‘till...”


“...We find you” A young man walks slowly from the shadows, eyes fixed on Gabriel, who doesn’t think twice before trying to vanish. But the man is faster. With a kick bends Gabriel in half, and smashes his face with a punch capable of turning rock into dust. The newcomer ruthlessly stomps on Gabriel`s throat, pinning him in place, silencing him. “When the prodigal child does not come home, The brother has to come to take him to the father” Gabe looks with horror at the dark haired man on top of him, or what is wearing the guy.


            Castiel steps up in front of the Winchesters, it is an Archangel, he can feel the power of the creature, and this one is more powerful than Gabriel. His chances are minimal, but if he buys enough time for them to leave...

(Part 2)

Date: 2010-03-30 04:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Playful despite doesn't work. Playful spite? Despicable playfulness? Playful disgust? Playful contempt?

Contempt works.


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