Fic: I'd Like To Strangle Your Slick Reality (Supernatural)

[crime_and_ink]

Title: I’d Like to Strangle Your Slick Morality

Author: Sin_stained_ink

Rating: PG-13

Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel.

Spoilers: 4x22 and after it. Vague-ish.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 756

Summary: It doesn’t hurt, and maybe this isn’t falling.

Note: It’s been years since I wrote fic, but I’ve decided to warm up with this, because I adore this pairing. Just a short one to start, because I’m just getting used to it. It’s really weird writing about characters that aren’t my own, though. I’d almost forgotten what it was like.

(There is oblivion.)

 

The last thing Raphael says to him before he destroys his vessel and Castiel himself is, “You used to be so loyal, brother.”

 

(This is not how it begins or ends.)

 

There is light.

 

Dean kisses him for the first time after he comes back, against a car in the salvage yard. Castiel can just make out Bobby and Sam discussing the hunt in the background. The metal at his back is warm hot from the sun, and he shouldn’t be able to feel this, shouldn’t feel anything at all. But he does. It’s warm and he can smell the flowers that are growing nearby, overgrown and swallowing the narrow path which runs alongside them. There is no shade and he can see Dean’s arms burning, but his own skin remains untouched.

“What’ll they do if they find you?” Dean asks, pulling back, one hand on the back of Castiel’s neck, the other pressing against his lower back.

“They will kill me.”

Dean drops his head and sighs against his shoulder, warm, even through the fabric.

 

(The second time, it’s Castiel who kisses Dean.)

 

 

“I think I’m falling,” Castiel says later. Dean stops searching through his duffel bag to stare at the weapons and clothes that litter the bed. The Winchesters have been here for hours and it already smells like gun oil and blood. There’s a pile of clothing to be washes when they have a chance- “Dean, empty your pockets!”- and the small pile of books Sam took from Bobby’s house is sitting beside the television.

“Don’t say things like that,” Dean breathes. “It’s not going to happen.”

“My abilities are already diminished. It could already be-”

“It’s not going to happen.” His voice is firm and burning through the air, as if his will alone can keep Castiel’s grace in place.

It isn’t the fall experienced by most of the angels, their grace ripped from them in a flash of agony, falling down to Earth or Hell. Maybe it isn’t a fall at all. Maybe it’s a leap, because he’s helping the Winchesters, helping them try to save humanity. Maybe it’s the worst sort of fall, and it will all happen in slow-motion until he strikes the ground and breaks, like in those films that Dean watches when he has time.

 

(He never used to have doubts before, although maybe that’s a lie. Maybe he doesn’t know that he doubted because he was never allowed the chance before.)

 

 

Castiel follows the pattern of shadows across Dean’s stomach, watching the way his breath hitches and muscles beneath the skin twitch in response. The human body reacts so easily, to the slightest touch. There were scars here, once- from a ghost who was faster than Dean, from pieces of broken glass- but they’re gone now, healed when Castiel carefully put him back together, creating life where there was only decomposition.

He wants to trace the flush that spreads across Dean’s skin, to chase the blood flow as Dean gasps. This is lust, and possibly greed. It’s wanting which he is not supposed to do, and it’s free will, which he isn’t supposed to have.

“Won’t this get you kicked out of the club?” Dean mumbles, watching him through half-closed eyes, the low light from the lamp emphasising the angles and edges of his features.

He flattens his hand against Dean’s chest, feeling his heart beating beneath his palm and says, “It doesn’t work that way.”

Dean smiles. “Good.”

He’s proud of the way that he can make Dean smile, and wonders if he’s discovering the sins of humanity. He thinks that their ‘sin’s are possibly better than the actions of his brothers in their quest for Paradise.

 

 

Raphael once said, “You used to be so loyal, brother.”

That is a lie. He is still loyal, but he is loyal to his Father and not to his brothers, who are carrying out orders which will only benefit themselves. He is loyal to all of humanity, but to Robert Singer, and Sam and Dean Winchester more than others.

He is loyal to the father who has abandoned them and he hears Bobby sigh, sees him shake his head when Sam tells him.

“That there’s the reason you got sent down to the Pit to get him,” he says. “Loyal to the absent father.”

His brothers are not loyal. Their actions are going to bring about the Apocalypse, even if it brings them the Paradise they wish for.

 

(He doesn’t think that they deserve Paradise.)