[ for a minute dean thinks cas might just shoot him anyway. there's something flashing over his face, something painful and raw, something dean wants to chase away. but he can't, not right now, not ever. it's the conviction that has his feet planted firmly to the ground, rooted to the spot with a stray shirt clutched tightly in his hand. ]
Packing.
[ leaving. ]
Should've given me five more minutes. Wouldn't have to go through this.
[ now this is going to hurt them both. but it is what it is, and cas has survived before. maybe he can fool himself into thinking this is just a dream, nothing but a hallucination of dean's return-- or whatever. either way, dean's shoulders lose some of that tension, as if he's ready to back to packing. ]
The longer this goes on, the more time that passes, the easier it is to feel reality slipping from his grasp. This is just-- It's absurd and ridiculous, reminds him of all those times Dean has pushed him away, and maybe... Maybe he does deserve this. Maybe he'd still been naive enough to hope that things could be better if and when the other man came back. That they could work this out. Castiel has considered all the things he's wanted to tell him, but he can't seem to get his brain to connect with his mouth. ]
What the hell, Dean. [ What. The. Hell. ] Why?
[ His eyes flick over him, and he's hesitant, unable to let himself step forward and touch him just to make sure this isn't something he's drank or smoked up. He doesn't think so because even his fantasies don't make him hurt this much. Castiel feels betrayed.
He feels like putting a bullet in his damn foot. ]
Where are you going to go - back to the dorms? [ And he spits it out, upset that he hasn't seen him in weeks and the first thing they do is argue. ]
[ why is the question of the hour. dean's wearing something of a smirk, cold and ruthless in the way he aims it at cas. he feels-- he feels nothing inside though, doesn't let himself to make this easier. the smirk is a mask, worn for annoyance, to make cas' decisions easier for him.
so he shrugs, turns somewhat to the duffel like it's more important, and throws in the shirt he'd clutched in his hands. ]
Better that way.
[ it's the only explanation he's willing to give up, as if it's all cas needs to know. deserves to know. it's nonchalant, airy... every bit as casual and dismissive as dean can muster. a quiet beat later, he's tossing another brief look at his friend, though it only lasts a second or so.
he can't look at him straight in the eye. not right now. ]
[ He doesn't get it, and he doesn't want to. There's something strange about all of this, something that isn't being explained to him, and it's like-- This is another secret building up between them. They'd promised each other, and perhaps it's stupid to cling to things that had been said during better moments but... But. ]
Of course it matters. We're in this together, and we-- [ He breaks to pause, breathe. Take in the line of his back. ] What's wrong with you?
[ There's a hint of unknown in the tone of his voice, fear and partial desperation. He doesn't want to be left. He doesn't want to be alone. He'd had nothing, no one at all, and it's like Dean is forcing it upon him again, like he's punishing him for not being fast enough or not being able to save him or being so incredibly useless.
Castiel doesn't stand there to be ignored, using his free hand to reach out and curl around Dean's arm. Heavy, firm. This isn't right, and he's calling him on it. ]
[ it's not right but this is the way it has to be. dean can feel his conviction waver with cas' words, with the lack of understanding, the almost desperate tone he can hear. but he can't back down, won't let himself. instead, he keeps packing until there's nothing else left to pack, right until cas' hand is curling around arm.
it's like fire, like he's being burned how quickly, how viciously dean whips around and snatches his arm back, eyes steel. his voice is hard, dangerous-- ]
Don't touch me.
[ because then he won't leave.
a moment, some of that anger fading, though his tone remains firm. ]
It's better for both of us, Cas. I know you don't see it now, but you will, and you'll-- you'll thank me for this one day. For letting you go.
The words are heavy, slam right through him so that the way Dean jerks out of his grasp doesn't even register in that moment. His fingers curl and clench, squeezing tighter and tighter until the bite of his nails is evident, and even then, he can't stop. It's to keep the anger soft, to keep himself composed and rational even if all he wants to do is reach out and take. Take, take, take because he's selfish and he's greedy and he needs him. ]
You're being ridiculous. [ His voice is forcefully even. ] I only see you trying to run, and for what? Because you should? You don't have the right to make that decision for me.
[ He doesn't have the right to do this to him.
He's torn between taking a step back and pushing forward, but there's no question, in the end, which he chooses. Castiel steps closer, feeling the weight of the gun in his hand pulling his arm down. He drops it on the mattress beside the bag Dean has filled. His second attempt at touching him is much firmer than before, almost hard as he grabs his wrist. ]
[ he isn't only choosing for cas, he's doing this for himself, too. and it's not like he wants distance between them, not since their relationship has changed... but dean can't be selfish anymore, he can't do that to cas.
or maybe all of this is selfish. dean can't let himself linger on it, just like he can't let himself linger on staying. it has him trying to break his wrist free from cas' grip as soon as it comes, pushing closer but only because he's moving past cas.
fuck the duffel bag, he needs to get out of here. right now. ]
[ He's almost surprised by the force of it, how ruthless and demanding it sounds. Once, it wouldn't have mattered, and maybe, once, this wouldn't have mattered either. But he doesn't understand what's going on, why he's being like this. Things were fine, things were okay before. They had fun, and they actually enjoyed being around each other in a way that was more than physical. Castiel had had his friend, and that was all that had mattered to him. Even killing him-- Even then, it was better than what they'd had. He doesn't want to go back to that, and he clings to it more fiercely than anything he's ever tried to hold onto.
He's digging in now, standing his ground and refusing to let Dean past him. He wants... This isn't about what he wants, but it is. And this is about what he's doing to both of them by saying those things. ]
Why? Tell me why, and maybe I'll understand. I thought-- [ He shakes his head, and he feels dizzy, sick. ] Why can't you?
[ And now. Now, his voice is small and soft and uncertain, trying to wrap his mind around it and getting nothing for it. ]
[ dean doesn't have the time or patience for cas to grow a pair right now of all times. that grip is sparking anger through the fog of fatigue and failure, has dean wanting to shove at cas. but he doesn't, only seethes out the words. ]
Why? Because the moment I knew I was infected, I knew it would hurt you. I knew how it was all gonna end, how it would have to end-- and I knew you'd have to do it. [ i knew it would break you. ] And I can't-- I don't want to do that to you again, Cas. But stayin' with you means something like that will happen again, and I can't--
[ can't put him through that again, or something worse. ]
The only reason you ever get hurt is because of the crap I drag you through. So no more, I'm not doing this anymore. From now on, we go our separate ways, and that's it.
[ he attempts to brush past him again then. ]
You'll be fine without me. You've been up until now.
[ In a way, he can understand everything Dean is telling him. It's not the first time things like this have come up, and it's apparently not the last either. Still-- Still, Castiel isn't about to let this twisted concern ruin whatever they've built together. It's close, so close, but he's too stubborn to let it go. And when Dean tries to push past him, Castiel uses both hands to shove at him. ]
Look around you, Dean. Look, and tell me that I've been fine without you. [ Nothing's been touched, and the bed has hardly been slept in. ] Tell me that I can really do this, that you will be better off without me too.
I have-- There is so much I have given you, and it doesn't matter. The pain, the suffering... It's life. It's surviving and knowing that there is something worth everything we put ourselves through, and I'm not going to let you take that from me. The years I have stood beside you aren't nothing. That we hurt each other-- It's inevitable. But it doesn't have to be what shapes us.
[ His chest clenches at the thought, and he steps closer, trying to push him back even more, to keep him there. He fumbles to get that damn ring out of his jacket pocket, having kept it close to remind him that he somehow wasn't alone, and then, he's reaching out to take his hand, to curl Dean's fingers over that band as he looks him straight in the eyes. ]
Stop trying to assume what's best for me. All I need-- I need you to be here with me.
[ cas is making it complicated where dean wanted simplicity, wanted the black and white of everything. this is why he didn't want to run into cas, knew it would invite trouble and doubt in what he's trying to make himself believe. but then cas has always managed that, had wormed his way beyond those shields, had made dean yearn for things he hasn't felt in years. all of those things though, all of it turns into pain when something like london happens.
and he doesn't want to do that to cas again. can't.
the ring is a heavy reminder where it presses against his fingers, where cas looks at him with such need, such strength and vulnerability that it leaves dean almost shaking. he wants to lean in, to be alright with this, to embrace cas after emerging from death...
but instead all he does is choke out; ]
I can't.
[ he has to remain strong. he pushes away the hand holding his, holding the ring. ]
I won't be better off without you, but that's the point.
[ It's right there under the surface, how much he shakes and tries to hold it in. Perhaps he'd been weak, and perhaps he could have done better by Dean by doing everything he asked without trying to argue it. But that isn't him anymore. He's willful and strong-headed, stubborn to match him stride for stride, and maybe it's always been like that. Maybe they have always needed this, each other, and now that it's being broken into and being thrust between them like an ultimatum-- He can't do it. He can't. He won't.
Castiel chases his hand and takes it again, wrapping his fingers around him so hard his knuckles turn white. ]
I need you, and you-- If you didn't need me, it wouldn't be like this. I'm... [ lost without you ] I'm sorry.
[ And it seems to break, the strength he'd prided himself on crumbling into pieces like it'd never been there in the first place. He needs, needs so much, and he's sick with it, hating how he'd exchanged one power for another. How Dean can break him with so few words and make it right without any at all. Castiel swallows and turns his head to avoid looking at him, feeling that emotion well up and burn his eyes.
Lack of sleep, he wants to argue. He's tired, and he hurts. ]
[ dean feels like cas' grip is squeezing his heart. ]
I don't want to need you. I didn't before -- [ he's always needed cas. ] -- and since I can't go back to being dead, I'm going back to that. I have to.
[ that emotional detachment, leaving behind only anger. he has to, london had taught him that any moment of happiness was sure to be ruined in disastrous ways. all that this thing of theirs eventually lead to was death, or something as painful. this right now, cas' apologies, his shining eyes-- it was better this way, than with cas dead. he would heal, he would manage without dean.
cas has always been strong, and right now, dean chooses to believe in that strength.
even if all he wants to do is gather cas into his arms. instead, a hand comes to the side of cas' turned face, gentle at first, then tilting it back to look at him, green trying to catch blue, voice quiet. ]
[ His gentleness is worse than a punch to the face.
It gives Castiel something to hope for, something to cling to. His breath is almost harsh when he feels the weight of those fingers against his face, like he cares and isn't ripping his heart out. Like they're trying to make amends. He doesn't want to feel anything except some cool detachment, but that had always been the problem with him--too much heart, caring too much. Being needy and so, so wrong. He wants to be angry at him because it's not fair. ]
All I understand is the stupidity of what it is you're trying to do. [ don't touch him, don't touch him ] I'm fine with giving you whatever it is you, but I can't give you this.
I won't.
[ And he drops his hand away only to push himself close, ignoring the sting of his eyes when he shuts them and presses his mouth to Dean's. It's uncoordinated, and he misses the first time, catching the edge of his lip. But he tries again, sliding an arm around his shoulders to drag himself closer like he's whispering please please don't leave me. It's desperate, and it hurts, the memory of the pain settling smoothly over him like it's fresh and new. This is real, and-- And Dean doesn't need him. ]
[ the kiss threatens to be his downfall though. dean sucks in a breath as those lips find the corner of his, then hit the mark straight on, cas' arms sliding around him. he wants-- he wants so much these days, wants to live a peaceful life with cas, wants things to be simple and okay and good.
but london proved he can't have that, not as along as he is how he is. and dean's always had a hard time changing-- for the better, anyway. it seems like a helpless road.
the hand previously at the side of cas' face slips away as his arm slides around cas' waist, holds him there, holds him close. maybe just for this moment he can sink into the taste of cas' mouth, ignore and forget everything else. his kiss is harder, is tongue and teeth and pressure. it's demanding, aggressive and needy-- the kiss they never got to share before cas had pulled the trigger. ]
I won't do that to you. Not again.
[ and to ensure that, he has to go. it's simple, and painful. ]
The force of Dean's kiss knocks the thought straight out of him, suddenly hungry for it and for all the things they've had before. Their friendship, the way they'd been comfortable with one another as if they'd always been that way. The intimacy, the touching, the solid need that flares through him, and Castiel clutches at him, slides his hands up his chest to hold him still and keep him there. He lets him kiss him like it's their last time, lips burning even when Dean speaks, and he shudders, the protest in him deep in his throat the second he tells him a lie.
It won't be all right. This is never all right. This is... ]
Don't do this.
[ His voice is low, a whisper that's hardly even audible despite how close they are, and he tries-- Castiel doesn't know what to do besides beg, and begging, he's found, is easy when all that's left is desperation.
His hands pull at his clothes then, pushing at the jacket Dean wears, and when it doesn't budge, he goes for his pants instead. He leans into him, mouth pressing anywhere he can that's skin--cheek, jaw, the curve of his neck. It's boiling through him how hard he has to convince Dean that it's okay, that he doesn't mind. That he would always need him more than the pain he feels in a moment of suffering. Castiel arches against him and tries to pull him as he takes a step backwards. The table isn't far-- He'll give him whatever he wants, anything at all, and this body hardly means what it should if he's bartering it for a little more of his time. ]
Please don't. Please — [ He pulls at the button of his jeans. you're all i have please ]
it's all building up and mixing, the need for this, for cas, and the determination and anger to leave. he has to, he can't get distracted by the hot, familiar shape of cas' mouth peppering and sucking kisses into his skin, of those hands smoothing down his body, clinging to his clothing like dean might disappear on him.
if he could allow himself this, he'd chase away those pleas, the worry he reads in cas' eyes. he doesn't want to be the reason for it, never has... but like always, he is, is inflicting more pain on his friend than necessary.
but it has to be so.
there's something of a groan, but the moment those hands are on his jeans, dean's snapping back to reality. a harsh breath later, and he's shoving at cas, both hands on the other man's shoulders, pushing. ]
Enough.
[ it's not about him not needing cas, it never is. but he knows his friend will see it that way, and for the moment, he has to let him believe as much. it'll drive him away faster. or should. ]
I'm doin' this, and you're gonna be fine about it. Understood?
[ dean moves to brush past him again, leaving everything he'd packed behind. ]
Dean's made up his mind, convinced that this is better for both of them when Castiel hasn't even gotten a say in the matter, and it's hurtful. Cruel. This is worse than killing him in London, worse than waking up every day after and checking to see if he'd even come back. The only hope he'd gotten had been the fact all those messages he'd sent him hadn't bounced, having heard people talk about where some of them disappear to when they haven't actually gone home. That hope, now, is being shattered by his lack of understanding and his inability to keep him from breaking them. From breaking him.
He feels a little crazy, seconds passing as his hands just drop to his sides. Finally, it's come to this. The day Dean can't see past him, doesn't see anything worth keeping no matter how hard he tries.
It ticks down to the sound of him moving, pushing past him, and somehow, his body still refuses to let it go. Let him go, let them go. Castiel's grasping and clutching at the back of his coat, twisting into it in an effort to make him stop. This pain-- He's known cuts and deep wounds and broken bones. He's known the torture of his grace slowly tearing itself from him. But he doesn't know this. It's like everything is crashing, the pressure in his chest threatening to stop his heart, and he'd let it if it weren't for the anchor he had on Dean. He's nothing, he's no one without him, and it's taken something like this to finally realize it.
The words are thick, soft and strained with the evidence of something that might be tears. ]
I'm-- I'm not fine. [ He hasn't been for years. ] I can't do it without you, and I would rather die than know I drove you to this.
[ It's so much easier, the oblivion of death, that finality, and he steps forward to press his face against his back, between his shoulder blades. If it grows damp, he doesn't even notice, trying to breathe and failing. ]
[ the usual strength of his voice is lacking, subdued to a whisper. ]
You didn't drive me to anything. Getting infected did.
[ getting infected, becoming one of them, making cas clean up after his mess. it hadn't been fair, and if dean hadn't been there in the first place, then maybe castiel wouldn't have had to go through all of that-- hell, if dean hadn't been in a lot of messes, cas wouldn't have died back home.
he can cut the cycle here though, once and for all.
dean feels the dampness grow, which prompts him to turn. he doesn't stray from cas though, lingers right there where there's little space between them. hands find cas', wrap around them, sealing fingers into warmth.
green looks for blue. ]
Despite that, you don't know how glad I was. If it had been you...
[ if it had been cas with blood stained lips and a look of mute shock on his face, life reduced to minutes as the raging monsters caught up with them... well, dean knows he wouldn't have been strong enough to survive seeing cas packing his bags in their place, alive and well again. it's all the proof he needs to know that him walking out the door won't break castiel for good, even if tears are seeping into his clothing. ]
[ Which makes it sound like an excuse, a stupid excuse, and Castiel doesn't have the strength to look at Dean when he turns to face him. He's focused on his chest, the start of his throat at his collarbone. His face is wet, and even after all this time, it's still strange. Crying. It'd almost always been reflex before, in too much physical pain to really control it.
Now, everything hurts, and he just wants to be numb. ]
I already have the best thing you can give me. [ You, his brain screams. You, you, you. ] But you keep trying to take it from me.
[ And there's heat to the words, something deep in the way his entire body shudders as he tries to reach for composure again. Except it's not there anymore, long since gone the moment he'd walked in and found Dean rushing to get his things before he could see it. This is far from acceptable, trembling with it, and he wants to explain how he hadn't coped. He'd wanted to be there with him, wanted to be dead too.
He lifts his head and leans in, stretching in the most uncoordinated way so that their foreheads bump. Castiel squeezes his eyes shut. ]
Without you, I have nothing. No reason, no will. [ A breath, and it's hot between their faces. ] Even after doing what I had to, I fought knowing you would come back. And I will keep fighting until you understand that I can't be torn from you. I--
I don't want to be your shadow or someone you think you need to save. I want to stand next to you, and I want to be with you.
[ Castiel touches his lips to the corner of Dean's mouth, ignoring the bitter tang of salt from his tears as he continues to stand there. Their noses brush, and he can feel himself close to losing it completely. ]
You'll only get... You'll only get hurt. Over and over.
[ it's weak now, because he knows cas doesn't care. there's a part of him, one that's always lingered somewhere deep, that knows those around him are allowed to make their own decisions. dean's never been good at letting them though, not when it might cost him them, not when they might die and dean could lose them.
he can't stand the thought of being alone, yet it seems like the only option.
except the cas is pressing his forehead to dean's, and he can't-- doesn't have the strength to pull away anymore. this has always brought him peace, a sense of being alright, with them like this, foreheads touching and the world around them stopping for a breath. ]
And there'll come a day when I lose you, Cas, I can't--
[ he's already lost sam, lost everyone else in his life. bobby, jo, mom, dad-- all of them gone, with him guilty of it all, somehow. his hands are at the sides of cas' face, thumbs brushing away the wet streaks of tears, mouth inches from cas', noses brushing side by side. he can't do this, but he wants to, so badly it aches with pain. ]
I lose everyone.
[ he'd rather push cas away, chase him off and know he's alive than take him now, only to get him killed later. ]
[ It's not that he doesn't care. It's just that there is more to this than searching for some sort of self-preservation, a desire that extends beyond the here and now. He's needed Dean since he first laid a hand on him, and even now, that need has yet to disappear. Through thick and thin, it refuses to go anywhere at all.
The hands on his face are warm, the breath he feels hot, and the words-- Castiel continues to squeeze his eyes shut, desperate for this. For anything that would keep them together. ]
You haven't lost me. You never will.
[ There's a shiver, sucking in air and sniffling just a little in the process. But it doesn't matter, tilting his head just enough to brush their lips together. It's the softest touch, barely there, and he lets his hands move up to cup the back of Dean's neck, leaning even harder against him. He needs Dean to believe him. He needs him so much, and the last several weeks have only proven how much.
Being alone had never been an option for him. He'd come into existence surrounded by many, and now... Now, he's down to one. He can't let him go. ]
If nothing else, trust me to keep that promise. I'm never going to leave you. [ He hasn't yet, and he won't. Castiel presses an even gentler kiss to the corner of Dean's mouth. ] Whatever it takes--
[ he wants to believe it more than anything, more than a promise from sam of the same thing, that he'll never leave him. his brother is-- he goes his own path, and dean's come to find that clinging to sam isn't easy, and that he can't do it without sacrificing his humanity over it. so maybe he can let that go, maybe....
but not cas. he needs someone, and with all the sacrifice and stubborn desire to stay by his side, cas has sealed his fate to him whether dean wanted it or not. castiel is his now, and all the words, the promises he offers dean.... dean wants to swallow them all, take them all for what they are, and to keep him.
cas is losing his chance to run away. ]
Don't make a promise like that.
[ don't make one you might not be able to keep. it's a desperate plea, breathed against cas' lips as he tries to hold himself still and from chasing that mouth. he hates this power cas has over him, the easy lull of his words that promise dean what he wants... yet past experiences easily tell how fickle such a promise can be, and dean's not sure if he can survive cas walking away from him if he allows himself to let the other man back in. ]
Just don't.
[ pressing in, dean forces his mouth on cas', rough and gentle at the same time-- demanding but almost afraid. he wants and hates all of this, yet the thought of walking away has detached itself, leaving dean to press himself closer against cas in return. ]
[ He sucks in a breath with those words, breathing the same air that Dean exhales, and it's a complicated intimacy that's between them now. He would ask him to stay for himself because he's greedy enough to want it, but he would also ask him to stay for them. For whatever it is they're moving toward. Something great, something terrifying.
Something that might inevitably kill them both.
Castiel takes the kiss without compliant, mouth open and a bit slack as he presses right back against him. His hands slip away, and he wraps his arms around Dean's shoulders like he's the only thing keeping him grounded. He doesn't know what the next several weeks will bring, if there would have been any point to fighting for Dean to stay with him, but worse than letting go is knowing he might have never tried at all. It's a failure too great to consider, and he draws back, pressing their noses together and eyes shut in an effort to collect his thoughts. ]
It's all I have left to give you.
[ Because he'd given him everything else already. His grace, his loyalty, his life, his love. It's all written out to Dean, has been far before any of this had happened between them, and he can't offer him anything else but a promise he really has no control over. It stings, and he burns with the knowledge of it. The helplessness he feels even as he stands toe-to-toe with the only one he has left is just-- it's too much. Castiel pushes his forehead against Dean's so hard it hurts. ]
Please. [ take it ] I need you.
[ And then he's kissing him with a terrible desperation that leaves him breathless and aching. ]
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indecadence) wrote2013-05-24 08:48 pm
no subject
Packing.
[ leaving. ]
Should've given me five more minutes. Wouldn't have to go through this.
[ now this is going to hurt them both. but it is what it is, and cas has survived before. maybe he can fool himself into thinking this is just a dream, nothing but a hallucination of dean's return-- or whatever. either way, dean's shoulders lose some of that tension, as if he's ready to back to packing. ]
no subject
The longer this goes on, the more time that passes, the easier it is to feel reality slipping from his grasp. This is just-- It's absurd and ridiculous, reminds him of all those times Dean has pushed him away, and maybe... Maybe he does deserve this. Maybe he'd still been naive enough to hope that things could be better if and when the other man came back. That they could work this out. Castiel has considered all the things he's wanted to tell him, but he can't seem to get his brain to connect with his mouth. ]
What the hell, Dean. [ What. The. Hell. ] Why?
[ His eyes flick over him, and he's hesitant, unable to let himself step forward and touch him just to make sure this isn't something he's drank or smoked up. He doesn't think so because even his fantasies don't make him hurt this much. Castiel feels betrayed.
He feels like putting a bullet in his damn foot. ]
Where are you going to go - back to the dorms? [ And he spits it out, upset that he hasn't seen him in weeks and the first thing they do is argue. ]
no subject
so he shrugs, turns somewhat to the duffel like it's more important, and throws in the shirt he'd clutched in his hands. ]
Better that way.
[ it's the only explanation he's willing to give up, as if it's all cas needs to know. deserves to know. it's nonchalant, airy... every bit as casual and dismissive as dean can muster. a quiet beat later, he's tossing another brief look at his friend, though it only lasts a second or so.
he can't look at him straight in the eye. not right now. ]
Does it matter where I go? You get this place.
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[ He doesn't get it, and he doesn't want to. There's something strange about all of this, something that isn't being explained to him, and it's like-- This is another secret building up between them. They'd promised each other, and perhaps it's stupid to cling to things that had been said during better moments but... But. ]
Of course it matters. We're in this together, and we-- [ He breaks to pause, breathe. Take in the line of his back. ] What's wrong with you?
[ There's a hint of unknown in the tone of his voice, fear and partial desperation. He doesn't want to be left. He doesn't want to be alone. He'd had nothing, no one at all, and it's like Dean is forcing it upon him again, like he's punishing him for not being fast enough or not being able to save him or being so incredibly useless.
Castiel doesn't stand there to be ignored, using his free hand to reach out and curl around Dean's arm. Heavy, firm. This isn't right, and he's calling him on it. ]
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it's like fire, like he's being burned how quickly, how viciously dean whips around and snatches his arm back, eyes steel. his voice is hard, dangerous-- ]
Don't touch me.
[ because then he won't leave.
a moment, some of that anger fading, though his tone remains firm. ]
It's better for both of us, Cas. I know you don't see it now, but you will, and you'll-- you'll thank me for this one day. For letting you go.
[ for keeping you safe, for distancing himself. ]
no subject
[ for letting you go
The words are heavy, slam right through him so that the way Dean jerks out of his grasp doesn't even register in that moment. His fingers curl and clench, squeezing tighter and tighter until the bite of his nails is evident, and even then, he can't stop. It's to keep the anger soft, to keep himself composed and rational even if all he wants to do is reach out and take. Take, take, take because he's selfish and he's greedy and he needs him. ]
You're being ridiculous. [ His voice is forcefully even. ] I only see you trying to run, and for what? Because you should? You don't have the right to make that decision for me.
[ He doesn't have the right to do this to him.
He's torn between taking a step back and pushing forward, but there's no question, in the end, which he chooses. Castiel steps closer, feeling the weight of the gun in his hand pulling his arm down. He drops it on the mattress beside the bag Dean has filled. His second attempt at touching him is much firmer than before, almost hard as he grabs his wrist. ]
I won't let you.
no subject
I'm making it anyway.
[ he isn't only choosing for cas, he's doing this for himself, too. and it's not like he wants distance between them, not since their relationship has changed... but dean can't be selfish anymore, he can't do that to cas.
or maybe all of this is selfish. dean can't let himself linger on it, just like he can't let himself linger on staying. it has him trying to break his wrist free from cas' grip as soon as it comes, pushing closer but only because he's moving past cas.
fuck the duffel bag, he needs to get out of here. right now. ]
We're done. I can't-- I'm not doing this anymore.
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No.
[ He's almost surprised by the force of it, how ruthless and demanding it sounds. Once, it wouldn't have mattered, and maybe, once, this wouldn't have mattered either. But he doesn't understand what's going on, why he's being like this. Things were fine, things were okay before. They had fun, and they actually enjoyed being around each other in a way that was more than physical. Castiel had had his friend, and that was all that had mattered to him. Even killing him-- Even then, it was better than what they'd had. He doesn't want to go back to that, and he clings to it more fiercely than anything he's ever tried to hold onto.
He's digging in now, standing his ground and refusing to let Dean past him. He wants... This isn't about what he wants, but it is. And this is about what he's doing to both of them by saying those things. ]
Why? Tell me why, and maybe I'll understand. I thought-- [ He shakes his head, and he feels dizzy, sick. ] Why can't you?
[ And now. Now, his voice is small and soft and uncertain, trying to wrap his mind around it and getting nothing for it. ]
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Why? Because the moment I knew I was infected, I knew it would hurt you. I knew how it was all gonna end, how it would have to end-- and I knew you'd have to do it. [ i knew it would break you. ] And I can't-- I don't want to do that to you again, Cas. But stayin' with you means something like that will happen again, and I can't--
[ can't put him through that again, or something worse. ]
The only reason you ever get hurt is because of the crap I drag you through. So no more, I'm not doing this anymore. From now on, we go our separate ways, and that's it.
[ he attempts to brush past him again then. ]
You'll be fine without me. You've been up until now.
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Look around you, Dean. Look, and tell me that I've been fine without you. [ Nothing's been touched, and the bed has hardly been slept in. ] Tell me that I can really do this, that you will be better off without me too.
I have-- There is so much I have given you, and it doesn't matter. The pain, the suffering... It's life. It's surviving and knowing that there is something worth everything we put ourselves through, and I'm not going to let you take that from me. The years I have stood beside you aren't nothing. That we hurt each other-- It's inevitable. But it doesn't have to be what shapes us.
[ His chest clenches at the thought, and he steps closer, trying to push him back even more, to keep him there. He fumbles to get that damn ring out of his jacket pocket, having kept it close to remind him that he somehow wasn't alone, and then, he's reaching out to take his hand, to curl Dean's fingers over that band as he looks him straight in the eyes. ]
Stop trying to assume what's best for me. All I need-- I need you to be here with me.
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and he doesn't want to do that to cas again. can't.
the ring is a heavy reminder where it presses against his fingers, where cas looks at him with such need, such strength and vulnerability that it leaves dean almost shaking. he wants to lean in, to be alright with this, to embrace cas after emerging from death...
but instead all he does is choke out; ]
I can't.
[ he has to remain strong. he pushes away the hand holding his, holding the ring. ]
I won't be better off without you, but that's the point.
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[ It's right there under the surface, how much he shakes and tries to hold it in. Perhaps he'd been weak, and perhaps he could have done better by Dean by doing everything he asked without trying to argue it. But that isn't him anymore. He's willful and strong-headed, stubborn to match him stride for stride, and maybe it's always been like that. Maybe they have always needed this, each other, and now that it's being broken into and being thrust between them like an ultimatum-- He can't do it. He can't. He won't.
Castiel chases his hand and takes it again, wrapping his fingers around him so hard his knuckles turn white. ]
I need you, and you-- If you didn't need me, it wouldn't be like this. I'm... [ lost without you ] I'm sorry.
[ And it seems to break, the strength he'd prided himself on crumbling into pieces like it'd never been there in the first place. He needs, needs so much, and he's sick with it, hating how he'd exchanged one power for another. How Dean can break him with so few words and make it right without any at all. Castiel swallows and turns his head to avoid looking at him, feeling that emotion well up and burn his eyes.
Lack of sleep, he wants to argue. He's tired, and he hurts. ]
I'm sorry.
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I don't want to need you. I didn't before -- [ he's always needed cas. ] -- and since I can't go back to being dead, I'm going back to that. I have to.
[ that emotional detachment, leaving behind only anger. he has to, london had taught him that any moment of happiness was sure to be ruined in disastrous ways. all that this thing of theirs eventually lead to was death, or something as painful. this right now, cas' apologies, his shining eyes-- it was better this way, than with cas dead. he would heal, he would manage without dean.
cas has always been strong, and right now, dean chooses to believe in that strength.
even if all he wants to do is gather cas into his arms. instead, a hand comes to the side of cas' turned face, gentle at first, then tilting it back to look at him, green trying to catch blue, voice quiet. ]
I need you to understand.
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It gives Castiel something to hope for, something to cling to. His breath is almost harsh when he feels the weight of those fingers against his face, like he cares and isn't ripping his heart out. Like they're trying to make amends. He doesn't want to feel anything except some cool detachment, but that had always been the problem with him--too much heart, caring too much. Being needy and so, so wrong. He wants to be angry at him because it's not fair. ]
All I understand is the stupidity of what it is you're trying to do. [ don't touch him, don't touch him ] I'm fine with giving you whatever it is you, but I can't give you this.
I won't.
[ And he drops his hand away only to push himself close, ignoring the sting of his eyes when he shuts them and presses his mouth to Dean's. It's uncoordinated, and he misses the first time, catching the edge of his lip. But he tries again, sliding an arm around his shoulders to drag himself closer like he's whispering please please don't leave me. It's desperate, and it hurts, the memory of the pain settling smoothly over him like it's fresh and new. This is real, and-- And Dean doesn't need him. ]
Please. [ please want me ]
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It wasn't a question.
[ the kiss threatens to be his downfall though. dean sucks in a breath as those lips find the corner of his, then hit the mark straight on, cas' arms sliding around him. he wants-- he wants so much these days, wants to live a peaceful life with cas, wants things to be simple and okay and good.
but london proved he can't have that, not as along as he is how he is. and dean's always had a hard time changing-- for the better, anyway. it seems like a helpless road.
the hand previously at the side of cas' face slips away as his arm slides around cas' waist, holds him there, holds him close. maybe just for this moment he can sink into the taste of cas' mouth, ignore and forget everything else. his kiss is harder, is tongue and teeth and pressure. it's demanding, aggressive and needy-- the kiss they never got to share before cas had pulled the trigger. ]
I won't do that to you. Not again.
[ and to ensure that, he has to go. it's simple, and painful. ]
You'll be alright.
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The force of Dean's kiss knocks the thought straight out of him, suddenly hungry for it and for all the things they've had before. Their friendship, the way they'd been comfortable with one another as if they'd always been that way. The intimacy, the touching, the solid need that flares through him, and Castiel clutches at him, slides his hands up his chest to hold him still and keep him there. He lets him kiss him like it's their last time, lips burning even when Dean speaks, and he shudders, the protest in him deep in his throat the second he tells him a lie.
It won't be all right. This is never all right. This is... ]
Don't do this.
[ His voice is low, a whisper that's hardly even audible despite how close they are, and he tries-- Castiel doesn't know what to do besides beg, and begging, he's found, is easy when all that's left is desperation.
His hands pull at his clothes then, pushing at the jacket Dean wears, and when it doesn't budge, he goes for his pants instead. He leans into him, mouth pressing anywhere he can that's skin--cheek, jaw, the curve of his neck. It's boiling through him how hard he has to convince Dean that it's okay, that he doesn't mind. That he would always need him more than the pain he feels in a moment of suffering. Castiel arches against him and tries to pull him as he takes a step backwards. The table isn't far-- He'll give him whatever he wants, anything at all, and this body hardly means what it should if he's bartering it for a little more of his time. ]
Please don't. Please — [ He pulls at the button of his jeans. you're all i have please ]
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[ stop it, don't push him.
it's all building up and mixing, the need for this, for cas, and the determination and anger to leave. he has to, he can't get distracted by the hot, familiar shape of cas' mouth peppering and sucking kisses into his skin, of those hands smoothing down his body, clinging to his clothing like dean might disappear on him.
if he could allow himself this, he'd chase away those pleas, the worry he reads in cas' eyes. he doesn't want to be the reason for it, never has... but like always, he is, is inflicting more pain on his friend than necessary.
but it has to be so.
there's something of a groan, but the moment those hands are on his jeans, dean's snapping back to reality. a harsh breath later, and he's shoving at cas, both hands on the other man's shoulders, pushing. ]
Enough.
[ it's not about him not needing cas, it never is. but he knows his friend will see it that way, and for the moment, he has to let him believe as much. it'll drive him away faster. or should. ]
I'm doin' this, and you're gonna be fine about it. Understood?
[ dean moves to brush past him again, leaving everything he'd packed behind. ]
We're done here.
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Dean's made up his mind, convinced that this is better for both of them when Castiel hasn't even gotten a say in the matter, and it's hurtful. Cruel. This is worse than killing him in London, worse than waking up every day after and checking to see if he'd even come back. The only hope he'd gotten had been the fact all those messages he'd sent him hadn't bounced, having heard people talk about where some of them disappear to when they haven't actually gone home. That hope, now, is being shattered by his lack of understanding and his inability to keep him from breaking them. From breaking him.
He feels a little crazy, seconds passing as his hands just drop to his sides. Finally, it's come to this. The day Dean can't see past him, doesn't see anything worth keeping no matter how hard he tries.
It ticks down to the sound of him moving, pushing past him, and somehow, his body still refuses to let it go. Let him go, let them go. Castiel's grasping and clutching at the back of his coat, twisting into it in an effort to make him stop. This pain-- He's known cuts and deep wounds and broken bones. He's known the torture of his grace slowly tearing itself from him. But he doesn't know this. It's like everything is crashing, the pressure in his chest threatening to stop his heart, and he'd let it if it weren't for the anchor he had on Dean. He's nothing, he's no one without him, and it's taken something like this to finally realize it.
The words are thick, soft and strained with the evidence of something that might be tears. ]
I'm-- I'm not fine. [ He hasn't been for years. ] I can't do it without you, and I would rather die than know I drove you to this.
[ It's so much easier, the oblivion of death, that finality, and he steps forward to press his face against his back, between his shoulder blades. If it grows damp, he doesn't even notice, trying to breathe and failing. ]
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You didn't drive me to anything. Getting infected did.
[ getting infected, becoming one of them, making cas clean up after his mess. it hadn't been fair, and if dean hadn't been there in the first place, then maybe castiel wouldn't have had to go through all of that-- hell, if dean hadn't been in a lot of messes, cas wouldn't have died back home.
he can cut the cycle here though, once and for all.
dean feels the dampness grow, which prompts him to turn. he doesn't stray from cas though, lingers right there where there's little space between them. hands find cas', wrap around them, sealing fingers into warmth.
green looks for blue. ]
Despite that, you don't know how glad I was. If it had been you...
[ if it had been cas with blood stained lips and a look of mute shock on his face, life reduced to minutes as the raging monsters caught up with them... well, dean knows he wouldn't have been strong enough to survive seeing cas packing his bags in their place, alive and well again. it's all the proof he needs to know that him walking out the door won't break castiel for good, even if tears are seeping into his clothing. ]
This is the best thing I can give you.
[ freedom. ]
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Now, everything hurts, and he just wants to be numb. ]
I already have the best thing you can give me. [ You, his brain screams. You, you, you. ] But you keep trying to take it from me.
[ And there's heat to the words, something deep in the way his entire body shudders as he tries to reach for composure again. Except it's not there anymore, long since gone the moment he'd walked in and found Dean rushing to get his things before he could see it. This is far from acceptable, trembling with it, and he wants to explain how he hadn't coped. He'd wanted to be there with him, wanted to be dead too.
He lifts his head and leans in, stretching in the most uncoordinated way so that their foreheads bump. Castiel squeezes his eyes shut. ]
Without you, I have nothing. No reason, no will. [ A breath, and it's hot between their faces. ] Even after doing what I had to, I fought knowing you would come back. And I will keep fighting until you understand that I can't be torn from you. I--
I don't want to be your shadow or someone you think you need to save. I want to stand next to you, and I want to be with you.
[ Castiel touches his lips to the corner of Dean's mouth, ignoring the bitter tang of salt from his tears as he continues to stand there. Their noses brush, and he can feel himself close to losing it completely. ]
... I go where you go.
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You'll only get... You'll only get hurt. Over and over.
[ it's weak now, because he knows cas doesn't care. there's a part of him, one that's always lingered somewhere deep, that knows those around him are allowed to make their own decisions. dean's never been good at letting them though, not when it might cost him them, not when they might die and dean could lose them.
he can't stand the thought of being alone, yet it seems like the only option.
except the cas is pressing his forehead to dean's, and he can't-- doesn't have the strength to pull away anymore. this has always brought him peace, a sense of being alright, with them like this, foreheads touching and the world around them stopping for a breath. ]
And there'll come a day when I lose you, Cas, I can't--
[ he's already lost sam, lost everyone else in his life. bobby, jo, mom, dad-- all of them gone, with him guilty of it all, somehow. his hands are at the sides of cas' face, thumbs brushing away the wet streaks of tears, mouth inches from cas', noses brushing side by side. he can't do this, but he wants to, so badly it aches with pain. ]
I lose everyone.
[ he'd rather push cas away, chase him off and know he's alive than take him now, only to get him killed later. ]
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The hands on his face are warm, the breath he feels hot, and the words-- Castiel continues to squeeze his eyes shut, desperate for this. For anything that would keep them together. ]
You haven't lost me. You never will.
[ There's a shiver, sucking in air and sniffling just a little in the process. But it doesn't matter, tilting his head just enough to brush their lips together. It's the softest touch, barely there, and he lets his hands move up to cup the back of Dean's neck, leaning even harder against him. He needs Dean to believe him. He needs him so much, and the last several weeks have only proven how much.
Being alone had never been an option for him. He'd come into existence surrounded by many, and now... Now, he's down to one. He can't let him go. ]
If nothing else, trust me to keep that promise. I'm never going to leave you. [ He hasn't yet, and he won't. Castiel presses an even gentler kiss to the corner of Dean's mouth. ] Whatever it takes--
I'll always be with you. [ So stop fighting it. ]
years later...
but not cas. he needs someone, and with all the sacrifice and stubborn desire to stay by his side, cas has sealed his fate to him whether dean wanted it or not. castiel is his now, and all the words, the promises he offers dean.... dean wants to swallow them all, take them all for what they are, and to keep him.
cas is losing his chance to run away. ]
Don't make a promise like that.
[ don't make one you might not be able to keep. it's a desperate plea, breathed against cas' lips as he tries to hold himself still and from chasing that mouth. he hates this power cas has over him, the easy lull of his words that promise dean what he wants... yet past experiences easily tell how fickle such a promise can be, and dean's not sure if he can survive cas walking away from him if he allows himself to let the other man back in. ]
Just don't.
[ pressing in, dean forces his mouth on cas', rough and gentle at the same time-- demanding but almost afraid. he wants and hates all of this, yet the thought of walking away has detached itself, leaving dean to press himself closer against cas in return. ]
dun dun dun...
Something that might inevitably kill them both.
Castiel takes the kiss without compliant, mouth open and a bit slack as he presses right back against him. His hands slip away, and he wraps his arms around Dean's shoulders like he's the only thing keeping him grounded. He doesn't know what the next several weeks will bring, if there would have been any point to fighting for Dean to stay with him, but worse than letting go is knowing he might have never tried at all. It's a failure too great to consider, and he draws back, pressing their noses together and eyes shut in an effort to collect his thoughts. ]
It's all I have left to give you.
[ Because he'd given him everything else already. His grace, his loyalty, his life, his love. It's all written out to Dean, has been far before any of this had happened between them, and he can't offer him anything else but a promise he really has no control over. It stings, and he burns with the knowledge of it. The helplessness he feels even as he stands toe-to-toe with the only one he has left is just-- it's too much. Castiel pushes his forehead against Dean's so hard it hurts. ]
Please. [ take it ] I need you.
[ And then he's kissing him with a terrible desperation that leaves him breathless and aching. ]