My very first fanfic, not to mention the first thing I’ve written in at least 10 years. Eek! This tumblr is really for myself, to prove that I can do it... but just in case anyone stumbles across it, here’s a quick Authors Note and summary.
There are 6 parts to this fic, from various character points of view, and an epilogue. (So technically 7 parts I suppose....) They are all already complete, but I plan on posting them separately over the next couple of weeks after proofing and editing. If anyone reads, I’d love a message or comment to say hi! I’ll likely post a more in-depth authors note when I’m done.
This fic is set during early to mid Season 13, shortly after Cas’s return from The Empty.
Summary
Team Free Will’s thousand mile journey home from a routine hunt is going to take a little longer than planned. Sam’s patience with Dean and his Angel’s lack of true communication doesn’t last that far...
Destiel, Humor, Optional Smut. GO!
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
A Very Human Risk
Part One - Sam
Blood. Miscellaneous viscera. A small chunk of what might be intestine… more blood. Sam idly examined the stains on his pants while he waited for the lights to change. He was sat shotgun in the front of the Impala, ignoring the thump of his possibly-concussed head so that Dean could swing them through the drive-thru of a small mom-and-pop burger joint near Zebulon, North Carolina. Something clear and kinda greasy… was that spinal fluid? Some days, it was definitely better to pick a food option where they didn’t have to get out of the car. In the wide back seat, Cas shifted his weight forward and reached into the driver’s space. He seemed miraculously clean himself, but he had no qualms or squeamishness about the lump of something-or-other he flicked out of Deans sandy hair. There was a tiny plop as whatever-it-was landed on the dashboard.
“Hey, watch the tunes…” Dean grumbled mildly, pushing a slightly yellowed cassette of Styx songs away from the chunk.
Cas made no response, instead retreating to his often worn silent-but-listening expression and returning his gaze out of the window.
A few minutes later, Dean passed a large brown bag of warmth and questionable nutrition over to Sam, who settled it on his lap among the stains and began to rifle through as they made their way back to the highway. “They forgot a fork for my salad…” Sam lamented quietly.
“Guess you’ll have to eat it straight out of the bowl, like a true rabbit.” Dean offered with a slight grin. His words were teasing, but his tone was thin and tired. He shifted in his seat, wincing sorely at an assortment of minor wounds.
They had been on the road for several hours since they ganked a whole nest of vampires near the coast, trying to make sure they’d shaken a particularly curious traffic cop who pulled them on the way back from cleaning up the remains. He’d found no issue with the license of a certain Edward Halen, thank Chuck, but had seemed more than a little disturbed by the state of the car and its occupants. Dean had thought it best to ditch their plan to wash up in a nearby motel and stay on the road until they were well clear. Although filthy, beaten and in several cases bleeding, none of them were gravely wounded and they figured a good few hours of the road back home couldn’t hurt.
“You should rest soon.” It was a statement from Cas in the back. “Or at least shower…”
We must smell awful to him, Sam contemplated.
Dean opened his mouth to offer a quick retort, but after a couple of seconds he merely sighed and agreed.
“Yeah. Let’s find somewhere with a room for tonight. It’s over a thousand miles back to Kansas, so we’re not getting back to the Bunker today anyways. Or at least a by-the-hour with a ton of hot water.”
He paused briefly to check the traffic before swinging the car out onto the highway. “I’ll head towards Raleigh, there’s bound to be some kinda motel before we hit the city.”
Sam nodded idly, distracted by more pressing matters. “Dean, did you seriously order three cheeseburgers?”
“Yes.” His brother snapped, before rolling his eyes and relenting. “One’s for Cas, bitch.”
“Cas doesn’t eat, jerk.”
“Oh, but I can.” The speed with which Cas snatched the offending item from Sam’s hand was really unnecessary. Sam watched Dean’s eyes slide back to look at the angel as he unwrapped the greasy package, biting into the burger with a contented little sigh. His brother looked pleased with himself, a tiny smile curling his lip as their eyes caught and hovered for just a second too long, before Dean had to return his gaze to the tarmac. Sam said nothing; he’d been around these two long enough to know moments like that weren’t his to intrude on. The silence that followed though… that bugged him a lot more than it used to before.
* * *
Throwing the motel card to Dean, Sam ducked down into the driver’s seat of the Impala.
“Go grab the first shower Dean, so we can get your injuries patched up…. Cas and I will run to that grocery store we passed and grab some beer and snacks for later.”
Without waiting for a response, Sam spun out of the Motel 8 parking lot. Looking over his shoulder he caught Cas’s slightly confused expression, but the angel said nothing and remained in place on the back seat, almost eerily immobile as the Impala lurched over the uneven gravel. It took only a couple of minutes to get to the Food Lion parking lot. As the car settled, Sam took the key and slipped it into his pocket, but didn’t immediately move.
“Perhaps I should fetch the beer, Sam.” Cas rumbled mildly. “For once, I may draw less attention.” He gestured to Sam’s splattered clothing.
“Yeah, I really took the brunt of the spray when Dean hacked that brunette.”
The door creaked as Cas began to open it.
“Cas?”
“Yes, Sam?”
Sam took a moment, before turning his giant form in the seat so he could look at the angelic face in the back, who still had one hand on the door handle. “Do you love my brother, Cas?”
A ghost of something shot across Castiel’s brilliant blue eyes before he responded. “Of course, Sam. You’re both family to me.”
Sam chuckled slightly, but it was a sad sound.
“Of course.” Despite his tone, his smile to the angel was genuinely fond. “But… I watched Dean grieve for you when you were in the Empty, Cas. I’ve seen him grieve plenty over the years…Grief for family. Dad. Mom. Bobby… For friends, for Charlie, Kevin, Ellen and Jo…. We thought you were really gone, Cas. Christ, I missed you too. It was awful. But Dean…. I’ve never seen him grieve like that Cas. He lost himself.”
The silence in the trench coat loomed for several moments.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Sam.” His voice a soft, frustrated growl. “It was a stupid move on my part… I was reckless and you paid for that.”
“You made a snap decision Cas, we’ve all done worse,” Sam comforts. “But that’s not my point.”
Castiel’s gaze dropped down and he began to fidget uncharacteristically with his tie.
Sam thinks for a moment about how mad Dean would be if he knew this conversation was why he had kidnapped the angel from the motel. Eh. At least he’ll have something valid to be angry about this week.
“He broke, Cas. He hasn’t told you, but… When I say he lost himself? He almost died. I think he tried…..” Sam’s gentle voice trailed off momentarily as he became aware that he was now using the same tone to speak to Cas as he used to soothe distressed victims and the inevitable bereaved family members they often came across during hunts. “…I mean, I don’t know that he made the conscious decision, but… the day that you came back, he died. To find a ghost. He was gone for a long time… too long. I don’t think he really cared if he came back. Not with you gone.”
When the angel’s eyes rose back up to Sam’s face, the blue was dangerously dark and his brow furrowed noticeably. “You think Dean would give up like that? Because of me?”
“I think….” Sam spread his hands in a calming gesture. “I just think he was grieving for something… more.”
In a moment of bravery, Sam reached awkwardly into the back seat and rested his hand on the angel’s knee. “I just thought… if I told you, maybe…..” He trailed off, unsure now.
Cas looked down at the hand resting on his dress pants, his gaze giving away that it was a strangely alien sight. Cas and Dean shared friendly touches and personal space often. It was comfortable now, normal. But despite the occasional hug or shoulder clap in their history, Sam didn’t usually invade his space more than he had to. His brief smile was grateful.
His otherworldly blue eyes drifted out of the window and rested on an elderly man headed into the grocery store with a cart, following him for a long moment before he eventually looked back to the younger Winchester.
“Sam, you know that… closeness between Humans and Angels is frowned upon.”
It wasn’t quite an admission, but Sam caught it, a small smile breaking his huge face.
“Being a rebel is hardly new to you, Cas… and it’s not like you and Dean could create a Nephilim or anything. At least, uh…” Sam’s brow furrowed. Could they? Angels didn’t even have a gender, so how much did the vessel really…..
As if watching the cogs in Sam’s brain turn, Cas interrupted briefly. “No. Male human, male angelic vessel. No Nephilim risk there.” He seemed slightly amused by Sam’s momentary confusion, something akin to a smirk briefly passing his lips.
“Right.” Sam’s laugh was somehow relieved. Good. That would be weird as fuck.
Minutes passed, in not totally uncomfortable silence.
“Sam?”
Pushing his hair back behind his ear, Sam quickly brought his attention back to the angel. “Yeah?” He tried for his best open, accepting smile.
“Am I to take it then, that… You would not be adverse to any change in mine and Dean’s… our… relationship? Such as it is?” Cas seemed to stumble a little with the wording, finding his tongue betraying him in his moment of need, attempting to voice something he had kept unspoken for the best part of a decade. “I’m… nothing, really. Not quite an angel anymore, not quite a human…. and my vessel is male. Dean hasn’t ever indicated that he would, uh, want….”
Cas’s voice gives up the ghost entirely, a flush working its way out of his white shirt collar, much to Sam’s slightly cruel delight. He took a second to bite back a teasing response, not wanting to spook the angel in a pivotal moment.
“Castiel.” Using the angel’s full name seemed to calm his gaze and bring his attention back to Sam. “You’re my brother, man. Maybe not by blood born...but damn, by blood spilled, you’re my brother. I can’t tell you what Dean wants, or for sure how he’ll react….but I know what I’ve seen, these past years. Life is too short… human life, anyway. I just wanted you to know so that… if you wanted to talk to him, you’d know you had my blessing and my support. Whatever happens.”
“What if he doesn’t want me, Sam?”
The gigantic Winchester was suddenly floored by the raw vulnerability in the angel’s voice. From his awkwardly turned position in the front of the Impala, all he can do is firmly squeeze Castiel’s knee.
“Well… that’s a very human risk, Cas. You may be an angel again, but you out of them all know what it is to feel…. and I think even as an angel you’re capable of sharing that terrifying little part of humanity. All I can tell you is that I’m here for you dude, as trite as that sounds.”
Cas can only nod, his gaze resting soulfully on Sam’s comforting hand.
--------------------------------------
That’s it for today! I’ll be back in a couple of days with Part 2, where we pick up with Dean.
Edit: This fic is now complete!
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
I Know You Feel It Too - It's Not Creepy To Observe, Right? (on Wattpad) http://my.w.tt/UiNb/d3ObL5M46B Dean Winchester is the star of the football team. Castiel is a nerd with a passion for soccer, who also happens to be a smart ass. Dean notices himself losing feelings for his girlfriend (and women in general). Dean sticks around in the locker room after a game one night, to find a naked Cas and himself having not so innocent thoughts. **EVENTUAL SMUT I PROMISE**
Hello to anyone that’s reading! If you’re new to my tumblr or to this particular fic, the place you probably want to start is here.
As you may have seen so far, each fic-part switches between POV’s. We’re back to Dean today, though we’re still in angst-vile. All is not lost, though! Bear with me, sweet tumblr-inos :)
Thank you from the bottom of my heart to anyone who reads, notes, comments or messages. This is just the beginning of my tumblr experience and it has been wonderful so far!
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
A Very Human Risk
Part 4 - Dean
“Cas? You still in the shower?”
Dean could hear water running as he swiped the motel card and stepped through the door. He dumped the beer he carried down onto the end of the second bed, avoiding thinking for the moment about the strange, yet somehow exhilarating moment with Cas in that spot just a short while before. “Cas?”
He stepped up to the bathroom door, knocking with one knuckle. “Hey Cas, I’m back… I’m kinda still hungry, you wanna order pizza or something?”
The water continued to run, but there was no response. Calm down Dean. He’s fine, he found himself thinking. Unbidden, the image of Cas’s face, his eyes closed as he lay on a simple cabin table, comes rushing to Dean. He’s fine. He’s not dead. He’s in the shower.
For a few minutes, Dean stood awkwardly next to the door, before forcing himself to shake off his jacket and place his gun on the nightstand. His eyes rested on the bathroom door. I’ll just open the door and shout, I won’t go in and be weird…. I just need to know he’s okay. Just checking up. It’s been a rough day, after all.
“Cas, just letting you know I’m back from the store.” Steam gushed out of the tiny bathroom past Dean as he swung the door open, keeping his eyes firmly trained on the foot of the bed, standing sideways in the entrance.
When there was no response, Dean was done. He stuck his head into the bathroom. “Sorry Cas, I’m not meaning to intrude or anything, I swear… don’t think you could hear me calling from the bedroom.”
It took a couple of seconds for Dean to take in the scene before him. Cas is stood in the shower, burning water beating down onto his shoulders, as he leaned his forward to rest his brow on the tile, a hand each side of him holding him up. The rest of his body was somewhat obscured by the slightly yellowing shower curtain, but the plasticy fabric did nothing to hide the fact that the angel was crying. Deans green eyes widened in surprise as they followed the tears down the angels cheeks. It had taken a moment to even realize what he was seeing… the drip of red falling from the corner of Cas’s squeezed shut eye. Deep distress. Dean had looked it up once, with Sam – both of them fearing that Naomi had done some physical damage to Cas. But the only reference they had found to angels crying blood had indicated that when suffering, an angel can lose control of their empty vessel and without the underlying processes that make the vessel ‘alive’ for the angel, the tear ducts can fill with blood. Suffering.
Dean approaches gently, a hand going out to rest on the back of the angel’s neck. Goddamn that water is hot, he registered in the back of his mind. “Castiel?”
He jumped. Cas jumped like a cat, so lost in thought that even with his supernatural angel-senses he hadn’t heard Dean speak or approach until his fingers rested on top of his spine. He blinked over at him, streaks of bloodied pink water quivering down his cheeks. “Dean?”
Brow furrowed with concern, Dean pushed the shower curtain aside and reached up to turn the water off with one hand, using the strong, tanned arm that now rested atop Cas’s back to pull the angel into his chest.
“Cas, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” The sparkle of green in Dean’s eyes seemed to glint dangerously for a second. “Did someone hurt you?”
Whatever answer the angel would have made was lost into Dean’s chest as his attempts at comfort seem to suddenly cause Cas to come undone, shaking and sobbing into his arms.
Well shit, Dean thought. He battled with sorrow at seeing his best friend sobbing so desolately, warring with a simmering rage at whatever or whoever had caused this distress in the usually stoic angel. How do I fix a wet, bawling angel who can’t even tell me what’s wrong?
Keeping a firm hold on Castiel, one arm around him at all times, Dean guided his reddened, damp body out of the shower and through to the bedroom, murmuring senseless, comforting gibberish the whole time.
“It’s okay Cas, I got you… Come on buddy, I got you…”
He pressed lightly on Cas’s surprisingly muscled shoulder, forcing him to sit down onto the bed as Dean pulled the top blanket up and tried to get it around him, suddenly very conscious that Cas is completely naked. Keep your eyes up, eyes up, eyes up, He chanted mentally as he maneuvered the blankets, tucking them around the angel like a fussing mother hen. Sitting next to him then, Dean extended an arm around his blanketed shoulders and pulled him towards him again. They sat like that for a few minutes while the angel’s breathing slowed and his sobs became gentle hiccups.
Once he seemed calmer, Dean tilted his head down, trying to catch Cas’s eyes. He could feel the heat radiating out from his reddened skin even though the blanket.
“Hey hot wings,” he tried lightly. “You always have the shower that warm? Human skin can be a little fragile, y’know.”
“Yes,” Cas answered simply, his voice even lower and scratchier than usual from all the crying. His gaze dropped back to his blanketed lap, returning to silence and breathing.
“Do you, uh… do you wanna talk about it?” Dean asked quietly, hoping that his voice didn’t betray that ‘talking about it’ was hardly one of his strong suits.
Cas raised an eyebrow at him skeptically. He knew.
“I wouldn’t wish to make you uncomfortable Dean.” He paused and shook his head slightly. “Let’s just put some TV on. A beer, maybe.”
Although that was definitely what Dean would prefer in any situation, something didn’t sit right in his stomach just letting the angel shrug it off. He was crying blood. Sobbing like a baby. He barely shows any emotion at all but… he seemed so heartbroken. I can’t let that go, buddy.
* * *
After passing Cas the remote so he could find a show for them to watch, Dean stood from the bed and stepped briefly into the bathroom so he could privately call Sam in a whisper.
“Dean? Why are you whispering?”
“I’m in the bathroom, away from Cas.”
“You know he can probably hear you anyway, right?”
Dean sighed. “Yeah. But I’m hoping he’s being polite. Listen…. Did anything happen earlier? When you were sneaking around with my damn car?”
He heard Sam give a long exhale before he responded. “Why Dean? Like what?”
“I went to get beer and when I came back he… he was in the shower. Crying, Sam. Like… tears of blood crying. Remember when the God Squad tortured Samandriel?”
There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment.
“Yeah, uh… I guess that might be my fault. I mean, it might not be, but…” Sam trailed off awkwardly. “Did he say anything to you? Before you went to the store?”
“Not really… he cleaned up one of my wounds for me. We…uh... chatted for a minute I guess.” Dean reached up, pushing his hand through his hair. “I mean… it was a little… intense? I suppose? I dunno. Probably no weirder than he usually is. Why? What’s going on Sam – what did you do?” The frustration was clear in Dean’s voice.
“You’re probably going to be mad at me, and I just want to say you have every right to be, I probably should have talked to you first…”
“Sam.”
“I just… I thought I was helping him I guess? I mean I understand why you would be angry but…”
“SAMMY.”
“He’s in love with you, Dean.”
And..... that’s it for today! Back tomorrow, to our embarrassed Angel.
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
Welcome back! Or hello, if you’re here for the first time. (In which case, you may want to start here.)
Our first peek at Cas’s perspective is a little shorter, but somewhat heavier, than our forays with the Winchesters. It’s a little more ‘wall of text’ but somehow that felt better for the character than the first draft did, so I hope you’ll forgive me for that.
Please do slide me a quick message or comment to say hi if you enjoy the fic, I’d love to get people’s feedback on how it’s going.
Above all, enjoy!
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
A Very Human Risk
Part 3 – Castiel
“Hmm.”
Castiel made a small noise of contemplation as he worked loose his tie, dropping it onto the small wooden bench next to the motel shower. What did I do wrong? He contemplated stoically, running back over Dean’s expressions and sounds during their discussion as he shed his white shirt. Dean seemed flustered and embarrassed, judging from his pupil dilation and raised pulse… but why would he be so from that topic? I brought it up, not him…false modesty?
Shoes, belt and pants folded neatly onto the bench.
Humans can still be so confusing sometimes. Even being one only helped so much. Understanding their emotions…. and my emotions now, I suppose… seems a never ending task. Shaking his head a fraction he neatly folded his underwear on top of his dress pants before he stepped into the plastic stall, following Dean’s instructions to get washed up.
Cas didn’t need to take showers, but he did like them. Most of his memories of being human were fuzzy, unpleasant and overwhelming. So much….feeling. Pain was bright, commanding. Loneliness was quieter, yet harder to ignore. Heartbreak, he’d discovered, was a physical heaviness in the chest like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Like when Dean had sent him away. You can’t stay. Few pleasant things about being human remained clear in his memory, washed out by the all-encompassing feeling of just…feeling. Showers were definitely one of the most pleasing. The warmth trickling over his human body, the feeling of heat and liquid movement… it had reminded him, at the time, of wrapping his wings in tight about himself so that he could rocket up to the sky and beyond. Now, even as an angel, that feeling was lost to him. He wanted to fly, but he couldn’t. His tattered wings served only as another reminder of all he had lost. The showers though, remained.
He turned the heat up far higher than would have been comfortable as a human, trying to burn out the fleeting memory of all those negative emotions. But he knew there was a reason he couldn’t forget that feeling… that moment where he’d have sworn the world had dropped from under his chair as Dean dismissed him from the bunker. From his only home and only family. He knew why, now. He understood and it didn’t even occur to him to be mad that Sam would always come first. That protecting Sam would always be more important than protecting him. Dean and Sam were brothers, tighter than Cas had ever seen human families. He wasn’t mad. So why couldn’t he forget? Because that moment where I thought Dean didn’t want me to stay….. was the first time I was able to understand that I wanted to stay. More than anything. I wanted to stay with Dean. It had always been there, it wasn’t new – that electric connection between he and Dean. But until he was human, he’d never truly been able to understand the depth of what it was.
He reached for the tiny bar of soap the motel had provided; Dean had already used it thoroughly and the extra soap and bubbles had glooped and stuck to the little plastic shelf. He reached out to work it easily free and paused, looking at his fingers and remembering Sam’s hand an hour or so ago, resting on his knee. It had been a simple, comforting connection. Very human. Castiel felt a rush of affection and appreciation for Sam, this giant of a man who had always been his friend. A human brother who forgave easily and always tried to understand him, even though he knew as an angel he was incomprehensible to most humans. It was very like Sam to want to reassure Cas that he felt no ill or judgement towards him, for what he now realized must have been an increasingly obvious crush on his older brother.
Cas was used to being judged. It was part of his makeup. He had been judged and controlled before he fell, and long after. Loving Sam was easy… he was smart for a human, curious and simple to get along with. Thinking briefly to his celestial brothers, Cas momentarily considered that Sam would have been an excellent angel. A proper one, as he believed they had been intended to be. He loved Sam as a true brother. But loving Dean… loving Dean was pain. It was the opposite of simple. They fought, Cas because he could never say what he truly wanted to say and Dean because he didn’t understand Cas’s erratic actions. By never speaking of the truth of their situation, Cas had been able to continue to love Dean as a brother and friend, fighting by his side and doing what he could to share his burdens. The idea of jeopardizing that relationship, of risking feeling that heartbreak again by expressing those thoughts he had hinted at in the car…. Sam had been right. That is a very human risk.
Soaping down his body with the tiny white bar, Cas leaned his forehead against the wall of the shower and sighed softly. Be brave, brother… The voice floated unbidden through his mind on a wave of memory, a voice he hadn’t heard for several years. Gabriel. The most human of his haughty archangel brothers, it was Gabe to whom Cas had been closest in the recent millennia. Maybe Michael, once… but that was long ago. Before Lucifer. It seemed only Gabriel saw and understood the things that Cas did about this world. Ha, be brave. Cas thought sourly. His trickster brother would have had no problems there – if he’d have wanted Dean, he’d have flirted and smiled and whisked him off into bed the second he met him, whether Dean was straight or gay or anything in between. It wouldn’t have mattered; it was Gabriel. Castiel wasn’t like that. He’d never been confident in himself in that way, like many of his brothers were. He’d never had the cause or the time to worry about it. There were things about himself he was sure of; that he was one of Heaven's best warriors, that he was a superior tactician and that his aerial skills drew the eyes of many an angel. Hannah had noted once that as an angel, he was attractive and popular… before his fall. He’d been respected. Now, he was an outcast…and he was fairly sure if Dean saw his true face, he’d feel nothing but fear. They were too different. He looked down at his vessel, the water cascading across his smoothly muscled stomach and compact runner’s thighs. Now…. I am this. Jimmy gave me his everything and yet there is a part of me that wishes…. Another vessel would have been easier, perhaps. Maybe Dean would have liked me if I was different. The realization came cascading over him with full force once he let it in, and he raised a hand to the wall next to his forehead, supporting himself as he slumped slightly. This is what I am now. Not quite angel, not quite man. My heart won’t be returned to me because Dean will never see past this vessel. I’m nothing, and I am alone.
His shoulders shook as he felt the full humanity of his heart.
Thanks for reading! If you want to dive back inside Dean’s head and see where we go, check back tomorrow!
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
Castiel had a favorite freckle on Dean. He had never told anyone about it. Every once in a while he thought about pointing it out to the man but he figured that would be a terrible idea. Dean wasn’t much for affection and Castiel didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
Then something terrible happened. Dean got beat up fairly bad during a hunt and came back with his face almost torn apart. Castiel had seen him messed up like this a few times but never, ever, had the freckle on the tip of his jawline been compromised. Castiel couldn't see it. He tried more than once and he couldn’t see it.
They were sitting across from each other at the dinner table and Sam was going on and on about some new research he found on the darkness. Castiel didn’t care. He couldn’t see Dean’s freckle. Without meaning to he shifted a little too close to see if he could tell if it was even still there. Dean jumped back and froze.
“Personal space, Cas. Remember?”
“Sorry. I was just trying to, um. I’m sorry.”
“Trying to what?” Sam cocked an eyebrow and smiled at him. Castiel could feel the air in the bunker shift as Dean looked at him confused.
“I was just trying to, um, see something.”
“See what?” Dean looked more interested than revolted so Castiel continued.
“I just, your cut on your face. It just, um. A freckle was there.”
“What?” Dean brought his finger up to his face and winced. “Where?”
“On your jaw.” Castiel looked away and buried his face in his hands. This was incredibly embarrassing.
“How do you know there was a freckle there?”
“Oh. I don’t know.” His words were muffled by his hands and he sighed. “It was my favorite.”
Sam burst into a fit of laughter but Dean didn’t smile. He stared at Castiel like he was some rare flower that had just been discovered. Sam stood up and mumbled something about “Destiel” but neither of them acknowledged him as he walked out. When Dean finally smiled it was with pity, and something else. Love, maybe? Castiel tried to shake the thought off.
“You want to heal it, don’t you?”
“NO. Of course not. I know how you feel about me doing that.” Even as he said the words he could feel his grace throbbing underneath his fingertips. His hands itched to touch. “It's just, I'm not sure if it will heal right. What if there’s a scar in it’s place or it disappears. I mean, I don’t know how freckles work but I'm just concerned.”
“Go ahead.” Dean whispered. His smile was encouraging now. “Heal it, Cas. I don’t mind.”
“Really?” Castiel smiled wide at him and Dean nodded.
“Just this once. If it means so much to you.”
“Okay.” Castiel didn’t give him a chance to argue or change his mind. He reached forward and touched the man’s face, making the cuts and bruises fade, then disappear completely. He smiled at the sight of the familiar freckle, nestled in between the stubble. Dean’s breath hitched. The whole situation was probably the most intimate thing he had experienced. Who memorized freckles?
Castiel leaned forward slowly, making his intentions clear. When his lips reached the freckle he hovered for a moment, then placed a soft kiss on it. Dean shivered. “All better.” Castiel whispered, his breath a ghost across Dean’s skin. Then he stood up and left the kitchen, leaving Dean to sit there with a clear face and an ache in his heart.
He laughed every time Castiel said anything. Granted, they were tipsy and exhausted so part of it was the slap-happy giddiness rising up in him. Most of it was Castiel though. Everything about him made Dean feel happy. Excited. When Castiel came into the room he felt like something in him got ignited. His heart. His soul.
Sam didn’t want to point it out, but he did slip out of the room around midnight. He spent the rest of his night in bed reading a new novel he found in the bunker’s library. It was around chapter four that the laughing became louder, and much more clear. He realized almost immediately that this was because they had moved the party to Dean’s bedroom. He smiled at the two idiots. Then put his headphones on.
