There was a hole in the blanket. SPN-themed pretty please :D
(OH HEY THERE ENDVERSE. Established relationship Dean/Cas)
There’s a hole in the blanket. Winter air bleeds up through the floorboards and there’s a draft under the cabin’s door, but Castiel burrows underneath the covers, tucks his face into Dean’s side—Dean’s skin is always so warm—and tries to sleep.
He requires it lately, a few hours every week to feel recharged, so that his thoughts are clear and linear. He’s been eating more too, and damage to his vessel that he would’ve healed with his grace now registers as pain. He feels pain. His vessel isn’t merely a vessel any longer; it’s his body, and one day Castiel will die with it.
Sam is gone. The world is ending, but they have this—here, now, the two of them. They have this until the world ends, until Lucifer comes for them. Dean stirs in his sleep, mumbling something under his breath. He worms his arms around Castiel’s body and sighs. He’ll leave Castiel one day, by death or by choice. He’ll leave, and Castiel will be alone, banished to Earth, and the angels gone. He’ll leave, and there will be nothing Castiel can do to stop him.
But here, now, beneath a torn blanket, the wind howling mournfully outside, Dean is his.
