Work Text
Song #1
Lateralus by Tool
“You said we’re done here and I’m going home. But will I ever see you again?”
The trust Dean had in Castiel was implicit and unwavering. His eyes followed the angel as he moved from Dean’s feet to his chest, the light of his grace warm against his skin.
The first days there this process had hurt, been extremely painful and hard to endure as there was so much of him that needed healing. Dean had screamed until what had remained of his throat was a bloody mess, only calming for a few seconds when the angel had touched him, giving him just a bit of peace before he continued his work: putting Dean back together, piece by piece by bloody piece.
When the angels had come to rescue him from the pit, Alastair and his legion of demons had ripped Dean apart, their nails dragging the flesh from his body, instruments of torture taking what was inside and pulling it outside.
Castiel’s deep voice had cut through everything, silenced the screaming masses, his light had frightened the demons back into the darkness while the garrison that he was with chased them and held them at bay. Without fear or disgust, Castiel had gathered Dean to himself and held him close, ascending up and up and up, while all Dean could do was pass out in his Savior's arms.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been here, but he knew it hadn’t taken him long to fall for Castiel. When the pain had finally stopped the conversations had started, when Dean was ready to move and get his muscles working again, his hand was joined with Castiel’s. He fell asleep with his angel watching over him, their eyes locked, only a few inches of space between them.
It was clear to him that Castiel felt something too, but he didn’t quite know how to express himself. And that was fine. Dean would teach him.
Or he thought he would. He didn’t realize that he would be leaving this place.
“You will see me, yes, Dean. But you won’t remember any of this, and you won’t remember me.”
“Cas — I won’t forget you. I love you, man. I’m — I’m in love with you. You marked me, I won’t forget.”
Castiel smiled at him, his face softening as he neared him, running his fingers over Dean’s lips, through his hair, clearly hesitating to do what he had been ordered to do. After a few seconds, he put two fingers to Dean’s forehead and his --
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Song # 7
Archangel by Two Steps From Hell
Lucifer looked down at the prone form of Dean Winchester on the floor in front of him, large pieces of the oak table the hunter had just been thrown through scattered around him. The stuttered up and down movements of his back indicated that Dean was still alive, he was breathing. Bruises were already taking shape on his face, blood pooling from his mouth and nose. It was a testament to his strength that he had lasted with him as long as he had. And it had been a while. Dean shouldn’t have tried to trap him in that ring of holy fire.
The next sound he heard was a loud, violent one, one that caused Lucifer’s entire body to shake. It wasn’t in the room though, or in one nearby, it was inside of his head. The angel in there was awake, and he was rebelling. Lucifer was almost tempted to go and see what he was throwing around in there, but an angel throwing a fit wasn’t of major interest to him. What he had seen in this mind earlier though, that interested him. Partially, anyway. An angel and a human in love. Meh, it wasn’t headline news. But he was bored.
“Don’t make me come in there, Castiel, I promise that you won’t like it,”
“He’s not a toy. You’re going to kill him. This is not what we agreed on Lucifer — stop it,”
Dean stirred and tried valiantly to rise from the floor but was stopped from rising by Lucifer’s foot on his back pushing him back down and holding him there. Another loud crash came from inside the mind he shared with Castiel and nearly simultaneously he felt his entire body falling backward, almost as if invisible hands were pushing at him. Was he using his — their — powers from in there?
He laughed. That was new.
He ignored the action for a moment, determined now more than ever to punish Castiel by tearing Dean apart, though when he tried to get up from the floor where he had fallen found that he could not.
“Casti—,”
Before Lucifer could even finish the word he felt the body close up on him again, he could feel the moment that he lost all control over it and the push of the other angel as he shoved Lucifer’s essence out of the way and regained control. Blue eyes flashed neon and Castiel was in control again, opening his mouth, forcing Lucifer out and back to his cage.
Quickly, he scurried over to Dean and --
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Song # 18
Raise Your Glass by P!nk
Meg sipped slowly at her drink as Cas looked longingly at the dancing crowd. The music was blasting and everyone around them looked like they were having a good time, everyone except the two of them. They were in a corner of the bustling room, sipping drinks and acting like if they moved the wall they were leaning against would fall.
Cas could tell that Meg was bored, but he wasn’t letting her leave him alone. As his best friend since birth, being a wallflower companion to him was her duty.
“Cas, face it, he’s a dick frat boy that thought that an invite to this would be a good way to keep him in your good graces so you’d tutor him again next semester. He probably forgot you were even coming,”
The open mouth, offended look Cas gave her said the ‘ouch’ so he didn’t have to. He knew Meg’s stance on ‘frat boys’ well, and really on men in general. “Dean didn’t say I was his guest, Meg. He just said I would probably have fun if I came,” Cas bobbed his head and shoulders, snapping his fingers in time with the music and grinned at her. “Aren’t you having fun?”
Meg rolled her eyes and laughed at him, he really was an idiot.
The roar of voices sounded like the word ‘woo’ shouted by a hundred people all at once and the song changed to something faster, something that everyone seemed to know the words to. Jumping, bouncing people, red solo cups high in the air as the chorus was shouted by the vast multitude. And at the center of it bounced the gorgeous, freckled, green-eyed, Mr. Popular, Dean Winchester.
After a few minutes, he saw Dean heading his way with a pair of red solo cups held in front of him, maybe to say hey, probably just to go to the bathroom.
“Hey,” Dean said, holding out the second cup to Cas and nodding a greeting to Meg. A small trickle of sweat rolled down the side of his face. How did that make him more attractive? “Didn’t see you over here hiding in the corner. Wanna dance? Or get out of here?”
Cas wasn’t sure he heard him right, and he blinked at him. “You want me to leave?” He asked, noting that Meg was waving at him as she joined Dean’s friend, a small redheaded girl he fondly called Charles, on her way to the dance floor.
“Leave with me, yeah,” Dean replied, grinning at Cas and twining their fingers together. “To go somewhere we don’t have to talk in shouts. Or we can go tear up the dance floor,”
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Song # 92Thin Air by Olivia Holt ft. Jordan FisherThe way the sunlight hit Cas’ sleeping body, naked amongst Dean’s solid white sheets, made the blue-eyed man look like an angel. Messy black hair and full pink lips, he was a dream come true and something that the not overly romantic, or romantic at all Dean, ever thought he would ever think about anyone. Sappiness and poetry weren’t him, at all, but he wanted to kiss Cas in the park, during a rainstorm. At night.He inspired rhyming words and sonnets, bad ones that might equate to a dirty limerick instead — but no one else ever had done it. Was this what love felt like? Another person that flipped your world and your heart upside down?He couldn’t get Cas off of his mind, and damnit, he didn’t want to.“Dean,” Sam was waving his fingers in front of Dean’s face trying to get his attention. “Dude, where are you?”When Dean looked over at him, his brother shoved his wallet back in his pocket and picked up the bundle of red roses he’d gotten for his wife Jess on a whim.Flowers.Maybe he should do that? He’d always thought that they were a stupid gift. They were expensive and they died in like, two days. But maybe he had been wrong.Did dudes like flowery gifts?“What?” Dean looked at him and blinked as if a spell he was under was temporarily broken. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I just — I’m listening. What are you bitching about again?”“I was — I forgot what I was talking about but it,” Sam trailed off as he watched Dean browsing through the bouquets, knowing he’d lost his attention again. He didn’t say anything but looked on in confusion when Dean brought his selection of deep red roses to the front to be bundled and paid for.“Alright. What happened last weekend? You’re smiling and it’s kinda creepy. So. Who is she — or he? Do I know them? It’s the start of the semester — is it another professor at your school?”Dean grinned at the look of confusion on Sam’s face and shrugged. It had been eight days, eight fantastic days since Cas had wandered into his classroom looking for directions to his own.Love, at first sight, was an understatement.And it was also a secret he wanted to keep to himself for a few days longer. He liked that no one knew, that this was just his, for just a little while. Of course, he would tell him eventually, he didn’t keep much from Sam for very long, but just a few more days. Maybe a week.“I’ll tell
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Song # 98 Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen
Whiskey was the root of all evil.Dean couldn’t believe himself or what he had done, still had left to do. But he couldn’t turn back now, could he? He may have been beyond normal drunk when he had planned this out, but he couldn’t stop now that he was a little more sober. Everything was already in motion: He’d quit his job this morning, in the most magnificent ‘kiss my ass’ manner. Cas was chloroformed and tied up in the trunk. The house they had shared had gone up in flames three states over.And he was pretty sure that guy he’d hit was dead. He hadn’t stopped to check, but he was going pretty fast, and the dude tumbling over the roof of his car had cracked the hell out of his windshield.“Happy now, Mom? My life is shit like you always said it’d be, take a bow,” Dean shouted to the air as he took a swig from the new bottle of whiskey he had opened. This is what she had always said his life would come to, wasn’t it? And she was right.‘Dean, you’re a fuck up.’ ‘Dean, you’re going to hell.’ ‘Dean the only way you’ll ever get your name in the paper is because you’re a serial killer or you’ve been killed by one.’ He still had a few to kill before he could take the serial killer title, but he was pretty sure the only two people he wanted to kill (wrong place, wrong time man in the street) were right here in his car.He got out and opened the trunk, grabbed up the very awake and wide-eyed Cas and slung him over his shoulder fireman style to carry him into Bobby’s cabin. Once inside, Dean put him on the couch and ripped the silver tape from his mouth and held his loaded gun to Cas’ temple.“Bet you’re wishing that you hadn’t broken up with me now, huh?”