Title: Accepting God
Pairing: Castiel & Dean
Spoilers: Season 6 & Finale
Warnings: Slash, Fluff
Word Count: 1762
Summary: Months have passed since Castiel went nuclear, but Dean still feels he's being watched..
Authors Notes: My first attempt at posting any manner of writing in a very long time. Of course its Destiel that brings me back. Just a one shot that takes place after the finale of Season 6. Most of my stuff is pretty dark, but this one came off pretty flufffy.
When Dean returns home, nothing really feels the same. The world continues around him as normal; no one else seems to notice.
"Nice weather we're having, huh? Hey, you look a little roughed up, son," comes the voice of the clerk, snapping Dean back to reality as he wanders into the convenience store. He'd almost forgotten about the tiny scars he still had, created by crushing the Impala’s windshield into his skin. "You alright?"
Dean nods and managed to curl the edges of his bruised lips into a smile, his green eyes tracking the floor as he slips the pads of his thumbs over his wallet and pays for what he remembers is a case of beer. It's been months now, he thinks to himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.
"Yeah, yeah," Dean's voice cracks out. "I'm fine, but you ought-ta see the other guy." He laughs, and his throat twinges with pain as he thanks the clerk and pushes off without waiting for his change. The minute he steps outside, he cannot help but stop and take a deep breath, his free hand wiping across his face in frustration.
He can feel the warmth of the sun on his face and see the breeze as it rolls over the grass on a sunny Kansas afternoon. As swampy green eyes peer up at the clouds moving overhead, he somehow knows he's being watched. Castiel, his new God.
"Man, what've I done," Dean whispers out loud to himself. A particularly hard gust of wind is his only reply, and he makes the tedious drive home in awkward silence with some banged up loaner Bobby had laying out back.
By the time he returns, it's nearly sunset.
Bobby gives him trouble about not eating but Dean won't budge. The idea of food seems to turn his stomach, so he insists on working on the Impala instead. What was once a car is now only a pike of twisted metal and flattened remnants. Every time he looks at it, his heart breaks a little more.
When the door slams closed behind Dean, Sam and Bobby exchange worried looks.
The older Winchester just cranks up the old FM radio and finishes out the evening by knocking back one beer after another.
After everything they've all been through, neither thinks to interrupt Dean's version of therapy.
So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you.
The last words Castiel had spoken to him before vanishing that night still echo in Dean’s thoughts.
Bigger fish to fry, apparently. While Dean and his rag-tag group of hunters had given Castiel every reason to consider them enemies, the angel hadn't smote them down on the spot.
Was he scared? Hell yeah. The creature who looked into his eyes that night wasn't his guardian. In fact, he wasn't even anything resembling an angel now. Castiel was now so far removed from the brother in arms that Dean had once, however unspoken, held so dear.
"Be back, my ass,” Dean slurs under his breath as he looks up at the quiet, endless night sky. The stars seemed somehow brighter, closer. Even though it should have been a cold Kansas night, yet Dean's thin t-shirt is proving to be warm enough. He was the only one who knew who was behind these unusual but subtle occurrences. "More like float around and spy on me, right?"
There had been not a peep of demon or a flash of werewolf. It was as if everything bad in the world had vanished at once. He hadn't seen hide or tail of a single supernatural being since the night of the eclipse.
Everything was perfect, so why was he so miserable?
As Dean pushes away from what was left of the Impala, he grunts. Months of tinkering and he hadn't fixed a god damn thing on his car. He knows it’s totaled, but that does not seem to stop him from trying. She looks like she’s been through hell and back, just like him.
His fingers numbly fumble around the bottom of the cardboard box that had once contained twelve cans. When he finds it empty, he rises, then releases a stream of expletives that leaves him feeling even more frustrated.
Dean turns to kick the flat, wasted rubber of what used to be the Impala's tire when he feels the rubber of his boot connect an unusually solid surface. His focus, bleary and wavering from the alcohol, takes a moment to catch on to the fact that his car is suddenly sitting there looking brand new.
". . . what the hell?" Dean sputters as he falls backwards, marveling at the sight.
Dean collides with an unyielding force, and then comes the feeling of steady hands on his shoulders. When he glances back, Dean sees nothing.
"Cas..." His eyes settle upon the car, and he wonders if any other human in the world knows what it's like to be in the personal favor of God. Despite whatever anger and fury becoming a deity had sparked within Castiel, Dean knows that there is still some part of the old angel in there, that some part of him still gives a shit.Thank you," he whispers as his fingers glide along the black metal of her hood. Just how he remembered her-- beautiful.
"You are welcome, Dean," comes the inhuman voice from behind him as he turns. Right before his eyes, light expands and molds into a familiar form, and he swears he heard the mess of feathers cutting through the air.
" . . . it's good to see you," Dean eventually murmurs in disbelief. He finds himself leaning against the driver's side door in an attempt to stay upright. He had been caught off guard, and totally sauced to boot -- not what Dean considers the ideal way to see Castiel again.
"Doubtful, but the sentiment is appreciated," replies Castiel, his gaze seemingly catching the light of every star as it drops to Dean's.
Dean could just feel the blue eyes boring into his soul, so he bows his head, dragging his eyes away to stare at the ground instead.
"No, I mean it! Bad blood or not, I miss you, man. You scared the hell out of us," mumbles the human quietly, as if he's embarrassed to say his words out loud.
He nearly jumps out of his skin when Castiel's feather-soft palm cups his chin, fingers curling against the length of his jaw to cant his head upward, and forcing eye contact. Just the touch of his fingertips seemed to send electricity shooting down his spine.
Castiel seems so much more open and direct now, it is hard to see him as anything but God-like. The sheer power emanating off him leaves Dean awe-struck.
"I miss you as well, Dean," the ex-angel purrs in a deep voice. "There are many things that could not tell you before...."
The implication of those words leaves Dean wide-eyed, and he searches Castiel's face for answers, but the deity's eyes seem to stretch beyond time and space as if he isn't fully there. Trying to picture what Castiel could be seeing causes Dean's skin to prickle.
Castiel tilts his head, his eyes sliding down knowingly to watch as the goose bumps spread. He slides his hand up along the flesh of Dean's arm until his fingers come to rest upon the scarred hand print on the hunter's shoulder.
"Such history we have. Do you think I would really destroy you?" Castiel finally asks, and he preses his palm flush against the mark.
The touch sets Dean's scarred skin afire, though he doesn't dare flinch or move away. He is rendered frozen in place by this creature of seemingly omniscient power -- who probably could see every thought that flickers through his drunken head.
"I haven't forgotten anything; it just seems so distant now -- how my predecessor-" Dean's jaw tenses up at the words "-could have so easily ignored you, his beautiful creations." Castiel retracts his hand and paces around Dean before turning to face him again.
Castiel finally retracted his hand and forced himself away from Dean to pace a half circle and face him once more, his hands forced to his sides balling to fists. He couldn't touch Dean. He couldn't hear those doubts or feel Dean's fear at his touch.
"I asked you to swear your love to me, Dean," says Castiel as his eyes flick upward, and Dean's follow. Meteors flare to life and burn through the Earth's atmosphere here and there as they both stare at the dark background of the night sky. "What is your answer?"
Dean winces at the question as he inches forward to stand next to Castiel. He marvels as the heavens seem to light up with shooting stars, and he's sure the being beside him is the cause.
"I could give you anything you wanted, Dean. Your father, your mother -- whatever life you wanted from the beginning. I could give it to you if only you would swear yourself to me. Of everyone, I never imagined that you would not be amongst those who support me...."
Well, at least Dean knew in his heart that the statement was genuine. While Dean didn't actually want anything Castiel offered to him, he couldn't help but wonder: what was so bad about having Castiel as God anyway? The guy had been a goody-two-shoes right up until the whole Purgatory mess, hadn't he?
"Yes," replies Castiel, obviously answering Dean's thoughts.
Dean looks away before muttering, "Bit invasive there, Cas."
"You think too loudly, Dean," comes the simple response. "I cannot filter what I hear anymore as it is constant."
Dean makes a note to avoid any deep thoughts about the nature of his feelings, but Castiel catches his eyes, and the hunter knows he can't hide anything.
"...including that," Castiel adds.
"Don't even go there, man," Dean says darkly. "I'm drunk, and I have no idea what I'm thinking. Don't read into it."
"I can see more than your thoughts, Dean. I see your heart - I know what sort of thoughts you've had about me. Since the beginning. Mind you, I was always curious, but it went against God, what I felt for you..." Castiel says quietly. As he trails off, he looks intently at the human.
"But you're God now, right?" Dean mumbles, blinking back the shock from his eyes.
"You said it. Not me." Castiel replies in an amused tone, exchanging glances with Dean who just gives him the look.
Just as a smile begins to twist at his lips, Dean finds himself with a beer in his hands, and only the stars to keep him company.
Dean raises the bottle to the sky. "Cheers, Cas."