dean and cas somehow save sam, and when he goes through their cabin, he finds their wedding picture and rings
rated m
Save Me, I'll Save You Too
i.
Cas
Dean shouldn’t
be alive.
Sam shouldn’t
be alive–
not this kind of alive,
without the fallen
angel
propping him up.
Cas for fucking sure
shouldn’t be alive.
He’d been the sacrifice.
Didn’t god always
demand
a sacrifice?
But somehow
they’re all
here,
all sitting
in this truck.
Stunned.
Cas has something
in his pocket
that could make him
float
away.
But he knows
he should
be on the ground.
For Sam.
So he closes his eyes,
clenches his fists until
small red crescents
form on his palms.
Pain is grounding.
ii.
Sam
Dean keeps asking if he’s
okay.
Sam has no idea.
What does that even
mean?
He can walk.
He can blink his eyes.
He remembers
how to drink water,
how to chew food.
He thinks,
far off,
that food used to taste
better,
but maybe
that’s just a consequence
of being a vessel
for so long.
But is he okay?
He thinks Cas
understands.
There’s something
in his eyes.
Not sympathy.
He wouldn’t do that.
But…
compassion.
Like he knows
what it means to be
lost.
iii.
Dean
It doesn’t take long
to get Sammy settled.
Of course in Dean’s
cabin,
he can’t leave
his brother
alone.
Not now.
Not like this.
iv.
Cas
It’s dark when Cas
pulls Dean
from his cabin.
Give him some
space.
He doesn’t know
what’s going on.
Hovering
won’t help.
Dean glares.
There’s no moon,
and they’re away
from the lights,
but Cas knows
the glare is there.
You don’t get to–
I’m not.
I’m just trying
to help
your brother.
He makes sure the
“your”
is pointed.
It stings.
There’s a huff
from Dean.
Come on,
Cas says,
the ghost
of a smile
on his lips.
You know
you want it.
v.
Dean
He’s biting
his lower lip,
holding
the scream
inside,
holding
everything
inside.
It’s so hot,
so good,
so safe–
above Cas,
inside him,
surrounded by him.
Nothing
can touch him here,
nothing else
exists,
only Dean
and his angel.
And then there’s a
fracture–
just a hairline,
but enough
to let a tear
trace down
Dean’s cheek.
Because the angel
isn’t his.
Not anymore.
Not really.
Oh, Cas beckons
and Dean follows
and they fall together
into this place they both
need,
but it isn’t–
And then Cas
moans
and grips him
oh so tightly
and he forgets
everything
but the white
hot
pleasure.
vi.
Cas
He wishes he could keep Dean
right here,
like this.
Curled up against him,
the mattress heavy
with the weight
of two.
He remembers–
But no.
Those are
forbidden
thoughts.
With his eyes
he traces
the whorls
in the rough-hewn walls
of the candlelit cabin.
He thinks of the pill
in the pocket
of his jeans,
tossed carelessly
on the floor.
When Dean
leaves,
Cas will
forget.
He will
fly.
vii.
Sam
He counts the leaves
visible
in the patch of sky
through the small,
dirty
window.
He can’t sleep.
His head is too
quiet.
viii.
Dean
He can’t meet Cas’s eyes
at breakfast,
remembering
the night.
Sammy’s back at the cabin–
must be exhausted,
still asleep–
so Dean’s getting him some food.
Feels like old times.
Except there’s no
Lucky Charms
this time.
No pancakes or bacon.
Just tasteless oatmeal
and some canned
peaches.
Real gourmet fare.
Fuck he misses coffee.
He’s crossing the camp
when Sam
appears.
What the hell is this?
Sam thrusts
a small wooden box
towards Dean.
Oh shit.
He hears Cas
come up beside him,
pause,
curse.
I brought you
breakfast.
He knows it’s weak,
but he
can't talk about this
right now.
Not in the open,
not when Sam’s…
not himself.
Sam smacks
the tray,
sends food
flying
everywhere.
I don’t give a fuck
about breakfast.
What is this?
A shout
from across
the small clearing:
Hey boss!
I don’t care
if he’s your brother,
we don’t waste
food
here.
Dean’s look
is enough to send her away.
Most everyone else,
too.
Sam holds out the box.
Again.
Accusing.
When was this?
Dean looks at the box.
Looks away.
Cas does the same.
Before, they mumble
together.
ix.
Cas
Before
I fell
from
Grace.
x.
Dean
Before I
gave up
hope.
xi.
Sam
Dean’s got that
look,
that “there have to be
words
around here
somewhere”
look.
It was–
He flounders,
looks to Cas
for help.
Cas keeps
his gaze
elsewhere.
Sam looks from one
to the other,
anger
rising in his stomach.
It’s an odd sensation,
it’s been so long
since he’s felt…
anything.
You know what, Dean?
Just stop.
Because I can see
the excuses coming,
and I don’t
give a fuck
about that.
He looks at them both,
hard.
Are you telling me
you had something good–
something truly real–
in this hell,
and you, what…
quit?
Dean bristles.
I never quit!
At anything!
I just–
And what about you?
Sam rounds on Cas.
I barely recognize you.
Better to wash yourself
of this whole
planet
than admit
something
makes you happy,
I guess.
Sam tosses
the box
at their feet.
Photos scatter–
Dean and Cas
smiling at each other,
dancing,
kissing.
Wildflower crowns
on their heads.
A gold ring
rolls
until it comes to rest
in a patch of dirt.
Why did you save me?
Only the three of them
can hear.
Why bother, if family
and love
don’t matter
anymore?
xii.
Cas
The beat of Cas’s heart
roars
in his ears.
He grasps at it,
wraps it around himself like a
...coat.
He looks at Dean,
deep
into emerald
eyes.
He thinks,
Yes.
He thinks,
I'm afraid,
but I'll try.
He says,
Go for a walk?
Dean nods,
the movement
barely perceptible.
Good.
Cas’s heart still
races,
roars,
but it’s not enough
to drown out
Dean
beside him.
He tries to talk
a few times,
but Cas stops him
with a hand
and a glance.
Cas knows
when they’ve gone
far enough.
Without warning
he pushes Dean
against a tree,
rough.
Dean’s eyes
go wide,
his breath
catches
in his throat.
Cas leans in;
Dean expects
a kiss
and tries
to close
the gap,
but Cas pulls away.
Dean looks…
surprised.
And a bit
hurt.
Look in my eyes, Dean.
Dean’s eyes
flick
back and forth,
searching.
I’m not high.
You can see it–
no red eyes,
no dilated pupils.
And you can hear it
in my voice?
Just me?
Dean nods,
then, Yeah, Cas.
You’re here.
Soft as a feather.
Good.
They’re still pressed
together,
faces
almost
touching.
I’ve wanted to say this
for weeks.
Months.
A year?
Maybe more.
I just–
I can’t do this
without
you.
Can–
He feels the tear
run down his cheek,
but he doesn’t care.
It’s just salt water.
Can we try again?
Please?
I–
xiii.
Dean
He sees Cas drowning,
decides to save him.
Yes.
Just like that.
Then,
because he knows
what Cas
wanted to say,
I love you too, Cas.
...
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, I know that a(n almost) kiss and an "I love you" can't make everything better. I've said those exact words to my husband, and I'm pretty sure he's said them to me! But it's a crack, a spark, a first step towards healing. Healing takes work, but without a first step there's no chance at all.
And Sam will be okay. He needs lots of time, and love, but he's got the help he needs.
A grocery store that was mostly untouched. How lucky had he gotten? Well, it wasn’t really a grocery store like his mind wanted to bring up. Large sprawling places- no, this was a small shop out in the middle of nowhere. Likely supported by the rv camp sites he’d passed earlier and tried his best not to look too closely at the rvs themselves. After all, while they were tempting and he had enough Lucifer grace left in him that the infected ran-
Well, he’d muttered outloud almost everything he thought, every hope about the store passed chapped lips, and he knew inwardly he was lucky Lucifer was still there, that he was weakening, dying, but without him, Sam would be dead much sooner.
Well, maybe that would be better. “What do you think?” He spoke to the devil in his own head, struggling to find his footing as he walked up the slightly inclined path, his head light from whatever it was he ate last. He probably should have left it, but he hadn’t been thinking straight. “Which is worse? Seeing what you’ve done and living in the hell you helped create, or dying in it? Where would I even go? Could I even die with you here?”
There was no answer, as always, but it didn’t stop him. He’d been alone for a long time, with just the voice in his head, lasting on what he could find, the backpack unsettingly light on his back, and unable to stay in one spot long. Dean and the other’s were still trying to kill Lucifer, and he knew the likelihood of convincing them that he wasn’t Lucifer pretending- “Not gonna happen. Just gotta keep moving. Just- avoid the ghosts. No more ghosts.”
The doors were chained- Sam swore loudly, kicking at the metal. The sound seemed to take the world over around him- the trees seemed to echo it, until to him, everyone who was alive must have heard it. “Can’t not hear that. Too loud. Everything is too loud-”
