[ castiel leans against dean's shoulder when he's guided to, trying not to sigh. dean will always think it's his responsibility to make him feel better: he's like that with everyone who he considers family. and, well, he doesn't want him to have to go to the trouble. dean should be spending his time on someone better. someone who's worth this. ]
I—
[ he doesn't know what to say to that, but he almost blushes. ]
Dean, which... me do you most prefer? I don't just mean that, [ his transformation, ] but over the past few years, I've...
[ he's been a lot of people. surely, dean has a preference. ]
[ well, that's an illuminating answer. he presses his lips together in an almost-smile. ]
Never mind.
[ it doesn't matter, anyway. he's pretty sure dean would have answered that way even if he did understand; even if he didn't mean it. but it would be nice to have an idea of what he should strive for. which direction he should go in. ]
[ he'd like to get moving, but seeing as they have to wait for their clothes to dry, there's nothing they can do but camp here for the moment. maybe he should try to sleep. it doesn't seem very likely they're going to have sex now, no matter how much he wants to.
It matters. What you think, what you feel, matters, Cas. Okay? It matters to me.
[ And it kinda hurts Cas blows that off, like it doesn't, like the things he thinks and feels aren't important. It might be what Cas thinks, but it isn't true. Not at all. ]
[ he shouldn't have said anything. he's not sure why he does this to himself, but sometimes he gets sick of dean's defense of him. sometimes he wants to know what he really thinks, beyond the platitudes of friendship, beyond everything he denies to himself. he wishes he had paid closer attention when dean was still angry— when he was still out of his head, before purgatory. maybe he would have learned something.
as nice as it is for dean to say that, he's wrong. ]
You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know it matters. You matter.
[ Dean has trouble showing emotions sometimes, has a hard time expressing his feelings without sarcasm or a self-deprecating quip. All this, whatever it is between them, is probably a disaster in the making. Two self-hating individuals locked into one another, orbiting one another...
Only a matter of time until they collide and destroy everything around them. ]
You matter to me, [ he emphasizes, just in case it isn't clear. He'll drop it now, though his hold tightens around Cas, nose dropping into his hair to breathe him in, sweat and grime and dust and all. ]
[ they have the time, anyway. he lets dean hold onto him for a little longer before extricating himself, standing from the edge of the rock where they've been sitting. he situates himself on the ground in front of it, the earth spongy beneath him when he lies down on his side, knees tucked up to his chest.
normally, they'd lie like this together, but... ]
You'll have to keep watch. Wake me in an hour, and we can trade places.
[ it's probably the first time he's found himself thinking that it might be nice if benny were here— but then he imagines him listening in on the conversation they just had and quickly changes his mind. ]
[ he sleeps, and has strange dreams. he's never liked that, the dreaming. when he wakes, it's with the past fresh in his head, which is never a good thing when it comes to him. nor is he surprised to find that dean let him sleep too long, but when he picks himself up off the ground, he makes no comment.
truth be told, he doesn't feel all that rested. there's a pressure behind his eyes, and his head feels foggy. but he probably won't fall asleep on his feet now. and maybe he'll get lucky, and dean will actually want to— it doesn't matter. why is he thinking about it so much?
[ he doesn't know how to build a bed. he doesn't know how to build anything. dean probably knows, though, or at least has some idea. it wouldn't be that difficult, provided they can find the materials, and they aren't too picky about the final result. it's not like they're going to be able to make a spring mattress.
dean's hand rests heavy on his shoulder, and he glances down, arrested by that shiver of unreality when he looks at himself— sooner or later, the feeling will pass, but right now he may as well be somewhere else entirely. that's someone else's shoulder that dean's touching— someone else who's sitting next to him. ]
I think we could figure it out. Maybe we could find a goose to pluck. Make a nice feathery mattress, too.
[ The expression on Cas' face is weirding him the fuck out, and he's a little worried Cas is gonna muster some energy and flutter off, so Dean's hand stays there on his shoulder until he gives in and wraps it around him, pulling the angel close. ]
How hard could it be? I did construction a little while.
[ he couldn't even if he wanted to— he could manifest his wings, but what good would that do him? he's still too weak to fly for any amount of time. they'd just be weighing him down. ]
I'm sure that you could. I'll help find the things you'll need.
[ they'll have to decide where they're staying, first. it makes him feel weary to think on all that lies ahead of them: recovering, finding a city to stay in, and then returning to tikal to help rebuild. perhaps dean won't want to, once they've found somewhere to settle, but he has to do something. he's responsible for at least part of the destruction.
it's a delayed reaction, when he glances at dean's arm around him. he can feel it, the shape and the weight and warmth of it, but there's a barrier between him and that touch. he looks away, wishing he knew what dean wants. ]
[ he lets dean draw him in, feeling like a doll in his arms. it's kind of fascinating, what the human brain is capable of without any interference at all. it's not magic that's doing this to him, not incense, not black mist, but his own mind that's holding him up so separate. or maybe it should be himself who he blames. if he vacated this body, would he feel the same?
he's afraid to know.
he lets dean lay his head against his shoulder, lets him kiss his hair, and wonders what this is supposed to be. ]
I know, Cas. It's okay. You're here where you're supposed to be now. With me.
[ He cares. He cares deeply, desperately for Cas, held him when he died, whispered I love you as he faded into nothing, screamed into the ether when he didn't have a body to salt and burn, was left with nothing but shimmering dust motes that slipped between his fingers like the mist that started everything.
His grip tightens and he swallows thickly, eyes squeezing closed as he tries to shut out the memory of that grief, of watching Cas die again, of losing him and being terrified he may not come back.
He blinks back a few tears that threaten to slip out, and forces a short laugh. ]
I looked for you for hours. You'd think it wouldn't have been hard to find someone so big, but somehow you managed.
[ he frowns— he doesn't like the idea of making dean upset, and he likes seeing it even less. he can feel the tension in his body, and guilt curls in his gut. he's never been present to see how dean reacts when he dies, or what he does when he's gone. just the thought makes him uncomfortable, for a number of reasons he would rather not scrutinize too closely. ]
I might have been flying. I'm not sure you would have seen me.
[ a lot of the time, he'd been searching for dean, but he chooses not to say that. ]
[ He could've maybe calmed him down, brought him back to himself, something. Spent some time riding him like Smaug, or something. Dean Winchester, Angel Rider. ]
I mean what I said about that form. It was really cool. What's different between that and your true form?
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[ He pets Cas' hair gently, carefully inching his way closer, until he's able to slip his arm around Cas' shoulders. ]
I liked your eyeballs.
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I—
[ he doesn't know what to say to that, but he almost blushes. ]
Dean, which... me do you most prefer? I don't just mean that, [ his transformation, ] but over the past few years, I've...
[ he's been a lot of people. surely, dean has a preference. ]
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[ Dean pulls the angel in against his chest, playing with his hair, letting his cheek rest against Cas' head. ]
What d'you mean? I like you, dude. I don't really know what you mean by that question.
[ a lot of people sure, but he's always been Cas. ]
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Never mind.
[ it doesn't matter, anyway. he's pretty sure dean would have answered that way even if he did understand; even if he didn't mean it. but it would be nice to have an idea of what he should strive for. which direction he should go in. ]
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[ Cas can be hard to read sometimes, and the almost smile is a good sign, but the 'never mind' has him a little worried. ]
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[ he'd like to get moving, but seeing as they have to wait for their clothes to dry, there's nothing they can do but camp here for the moment. maybe he should try to sleep. it doesn't seem very likely they're going to have sex now, no matter how much he wants to.
but it's not about what he wants. ]
I don't think there is a right answer.
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[ And it kinda hurts Cas blows that off, like it doesn't, like the things he thinks and feels aren't important. It might be what Cas thinks, but it isn't true. Not at all. ]
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[ he shouldn't have said anything. he's not sure why he does this to himself, but sometimes he gets sick of dean's defense of him. sometimes he wants to know what he really thinks, beyond the platitudes of friendship, beyond everything he denies to himself. he wishes he had paid closer attention when dean was still angry— when he was still out of his head, before purgatory. maybe he would have learned something.
as nice as it is for dean to say that, he's wrong. ]
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[ Dean has trouble showing emotions sometimes, has a hard time expressing his feelings without sarcasm or a self-deprecating quip. All this, whatever it is between them, is probably a disaster in the making. Two self-hating individuals locked into one another, orbiting one another...
Only a matter of time until they collide and destroy everything around them. ]
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I know you care, Dean.
[ is he worried he thinks he doesn't? dean always takes everything so personally. ]
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How you feelin'?
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[ they have the time, anyway. he lets dean hold onto him for a little longer before extricating himself, standing from the edge of the rock where they've been sitting. he situates himself on the ground in front of it, the earth spongy beneath him when he lies down on his side, knees tucked up to his chest.
normally, they'd lie like this together, but... ]
You'll have to keep watch. Wake me in an hour, and we can trade places.
[ it's probably the first time he's found himself thinking that it might be nice if benny were here— but then he imagines him listening in on the conversation they just had and quickly changes his mind. ]
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[ Dean can keep watch. He's exhausted, but not like Cas is. Seeing him sleep is always unnerving, since most of the time, he doesn't need to. ]
Get some rest.
[ He'll do a small perimeter check, make sure there's no monsters around, then settle in beside Cas, and wait.
He lets him sleep a lot longer than an hour, though. Angel baby seems to need it. ]
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truth be told, he doesn't feel all that rested. there's a pressure behind his eyes, and his head feels foggy. but he probably won't fall asleep on his feet now. and maybe he'll get lucky, and dean will actually want to— it doesn't matter. why is he thinking about it so much?
he sits down near dean, rubbing his eyes. ]
You can rest now, if you want.
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Slept like shit, huh? [ His tone is wry, a little smile on his face as he reaches to pick a twig from Cas' hair. ]
Sleeping on the ground sucks.
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[ to be completely honest.
but that was probably part of it. ]
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Okay yeah, that's true.
[ He lets his hand settle on Cas' bare shoulder, thumb rubbing over his collarbone. ]
One day, we're gonna have a real bed. Fluffy pillows. The whole nine yards.
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[ he doesn't know how to build a bed. he doesn't know how to build anything. dean probably knows, though, or at least has some idea. it wouldn't be that difficult, provided they can find the materials, and they aren't too picky about the final result. it's not like they're going to be able to make a spring mattress.
dean's hand rests heavy on his shoulder, and he glances down, arrested by that shiver of unreality when he looks at himself— sooner or later, the feeling will pass, but right now he may as well be somewhere else entirely. that's someone else's shoulder that dean's touching— someone else who's sitting next to him. ]
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[ The expression on Cas' face is weirding him the fuck out, and he's a little worried Cas is gonna muster some energy and flutter off, so Dean's hand stays there on his shoulder until he gives in and wraps it around him, pulling the angel close. ]
How hard could it be? I did construction a little while.
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I'm sure that you could. I'll help find the things you'll need.
[ they'll have to decide where they're staying, first. it makes him feel weary to think on all that lies ahead of them: recovering, finding a city to stay in, and then returning to tikal to help rebuild. perhaps dean won't want to, once they've found somewhere to settle, but he has to do something. he's responsible for at least part of the destruction.
it's a delayed reaction, when he glances at dean's arm around him. he can feel it, the shape and the weight and warmth of it, but there's a barrier between him and that touch. he looks away, wishing he knew what dean wants. ]
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[ He pulls Cas in and presses a kiss to his head, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of him, eyes closing, so...so grateful to have him back. ]
I'm really glad you're here with me, Cas.
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he's afraid to know.
he lets dean lay his head against his shoulder, lets him kiss his hair, and wonders what this is supposed to be. ]
I'm sorry I left. I know it was... upsetting.
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[ He cares. He cares deeply, desperately for Cas, held him when he died, whispered I love you as he faded into nothing, screamed into the ether when he didn't have a body to salt and burn, was left with nothing but shimmering dust motes that slipped between his fingers like the mist that started everything.
His grip tightens and he swallows thickly, eyes squeezing closed as he tries to shut out the memory of that grief, of watching Cas die again, of losing him and being terrified he may not come back.
He blinks back a few tears that threaten to slip out, and forces a short laugh. ]
I looked for you for hours. You'd think it wouldn't have been hard to find someone so big, but somehow you managed.
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I might have been flying. I'm not sure you would have seen me.
[ a lot of the time, he'd been searching for dean, but he chooses not to say that. ]
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[ He could've maybe calmed him down, brought him back to himself, something. Spent some time riding him like Smaug, or something. Dean Winchester, Angel Rider. ]
I mean what I said about that form. It was really cool. What's different between that and your true form?
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lol cas 'HURRY THE FUCK UP'
FUCK HIM!!!!!
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what the hell did i do to the second sentence of that second paragraph lmfao
lmfao
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