Mar 8
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
He…He doesn't mean to keep it, is the thing.
And then Chuck—who isn't dead, because he's protected and a prophet and whatever—untangles the last whole piece of Castiel still left on earth from his still-tacky-with-viscera hair, and Dean doesn't think, just eases the bloody molar from between his fingers and shoves it in his pocket so Chuck will stop looking at it, so Dean will stop thinking about it, and Sam will stop looking at him like a kicked puppy, like a kid who still wants Dean to give him answers Dean doesn't have.
