SPN Ficlet: Felt, Dean/Castiel (G)
Jul. 13th, 2010 02:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annundrielFelt
Dean/Castiel
G
430
Set at the end of 4.22.
Castiel falls.
Written last month in response to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mclachlan's prompt: Castiel is falling; the first time Dean touches him (slap to the arm, hand on the shoulder, something innocuous) and Castiel actually feels it.
The first time Castiel realizes he’s falling in spite of everything, he’s alone with Dean in a gilded room.
He feels nothing when Dean punches him, not even surprise. Dean is frustrated and angry, hates being held down, held back, and Castiel knows he’s a convenient target. A reachable one.
There’s a brief spike of gratitude—hot and bright like a warning flare, new beneath his ribs—that he’s the one standing in front of Dean and not Zachariah. Not even Castiel is sure what Zachariah would do if physically provoked.
Cradling his bruised fist, Dean turns to throw harsh words and accusations at him, to plead with him. Tell him there is a right and a wrong.
Castiel listens, and turns away.
He used to think…
He used to think humanity was beautiful and full of hope. His time with Dean has shown him the rough edges, the flaws in his Father’s crowning jewel of creation. There is pain and there is suffering, and any happiness is fleeting.
Castiel wants only for Dean to be happy, to find a peace his life cannot ever give him.
And so Castiel turns away, turns so he doesn’t have to listen anymore.
Dean stops him with a hand on his arm, pulling him forcefully back to face him, and Castiel feels it like a brand through his clothing. It is not the first time Dean’s touched him—a hand on the shoulder, a clap to the back, familiarity in human touch—but it is the first time Castiel has felt it like this, felt it sinking past the very bones of the vessel he inhabits to find Castiel under all those layers.
It frightens him, more than anything else ever has. More, even, than those first threads of doubt did when they crept inside him so many months ago. Those had been a test of faith, of loyalty, and Castiel had not failed his Father.
He had failed Dean.
Dean turns away from him, disappointment writ large on his face, and Castiel feels a sharp pang in his chest that reminds him of barns and light bulbs exploding, of a knife shoved deep.
He knows what he must do. And once he makes the decision, he knows that this is it.
When Castiel sends Dean to stop Sam, he turns with Chuck to face Raphael. There’s a rush and blur of sound and noise, and Castiel steps into it, welcomes it. Knows suddenly, with a certainty he cannot account for, that his fate has always been this: to fall for Dean Winchester.
Dean/Castiel
G
430
Set at the end of 4.22.
Castiel falls.
Written last month in response to
mclachlan's prompt: Castiel is falling; the first time Dean touches him (slap to the arm, hand on the shoulder, something innocuous) and Castiel actually feels it.The first time Castiel realizes he’s falling in spite of everything, he’s alone with Dean in a gilded room.
He feels nothing when Dean punches him, not even surprise. Dean is frustrated and angry, hates being held down, held back, and Castiel knows he’s a convenient target. A reachable one.
There’s a brief spike of gratitude—hot and bright like a warning flare, new beneath his ribs—that he’s the one standing in front of Dean and not Zachariah. Not even Castiel is sure what Zachariah would do if physically provoked.
Cradling his bruised fist, Dean turns to throw harsh words and accusations at him, to plead with him. Tell him there is a right and a wrong.
Castiel listens, and turns away.
He used to think…
He used to think humanity was beautiful and full of hope. His time with Dean has shown him the rough edges, the flaws in his Father’s crowning jewel of creation. There is pain and there is suffering, and any happiness is fleeting.
Castiel wants only for Dean to be happy, to find a peace his life cannot ever give him.
And so Castiel turns away, turns so he doesn’t have to listen anymore.
Dean stops him with a hand on his arm, pulling him forcefully back to face him, and Castiel feels it like a brand through his clothing. It is not the first time Dean’s touched him—a hand on the shoulder, a clap to the back, familiarity in human touch—but it is the first time Castiel has felt it like this, felt it sinking past the very bones of the vessel he inhabits to find Castiel under all those layers.
It frightens him, more than anything else ever has. More, even, than those first threads of doubt did when they crept inside him so many months ago. Those had been a test of faith, of loyalty, and Castiel had not failed his Father.
He had failed Dean.
Dean turns away from him, disappointment writ large on his face, and Castiel feels a sharp pang in his chest that reminds him of barns and light bulbs exploding, of a knife shoved deep.
He knows what he must do. And once he makes the decision, he knows that this is it.
When Castiel sends Dean to stop Sam, he turns with Chuck to face Raphael. There’s a rush and blur of sound and noise, and Castiel steps into it, welcomes it. Knows suddenly, with a certainty he cannot account for, that his fate has always been this: to fall for Dean Winchester.
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(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-21 10:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-22 06:02 am (UTC)