[ dean grunts something at that, low and still very much growly, not really bothering with an answer. he'd been shit last night, he was shit this morning, nothing more to it. and he even still feels like shit-- so it's all great. yet he knows he shouldn't be taking it out on cas, that the other man definitely doesn't deserve it.
he's surprised, when cas clings to his sleeve, turns to look at him with a barely raised brow. ]
What's it to you?
[ he's not entirely sure. he feels like crap -- maybe he still is drunk, who knows -- everything aching and hurting, yet nothing stings more than what had originally driven him to this, sam's betrayal coming back to him at full force. he doesn't pull away from cas though, just sort of lingers there....
he doesn't know where he's going or what he's going to do, only that staying here seems like a bad idea. ]
[ He's hardly fazed by it, allowing his fingers to curl a little tighter into the material before he even notices that's what he's doing. It's just an unconscious reaction, something he does and still can't quite seem to monitor. Really, all of this reminds him of the conversation he'd had with the other Dean--about calling him out. Except it also reminds Castiel that he would have to stand with him even if it meant against him, and he doesn't think he ever could.
So, they sit there beside each other while he looks at Dean and wonders. ]
I told you to stay. Whatever is out there can wait.
[ Meaning he's not ready to face those truths and consequences just yet, still burning from his conversation with Sam and waiting. He could bring it up, but he's tired and just wants to take these last few hours for himself. For them. But he's not that generous anymore. If Dean hasn't stumbled out of his room by now, maybe there's some hope left to salvage.
Then again, maybe all he wants to do is ask things that are never meant to be asked. ]
Besides, you wouldn't make it down the steps like that. [ So don't fight him on this. ]
[ maybe some more sleep wouldn't hurt, but dean can't let himself sink back into the bed, the warmth. there are things to be done, those intent on trapping the devil and making him pay. a part of him wants to say as much to cas, but he's no sure if he should drag the other man into it. this place has offered him comfort today, and he can't quite sum up his thanks for cas, won't even try, but it lingers there, the gratitude...
even if cas probably can't tell.
dean grunts something, not quite denying that yeah, he probably can't make it down the steps like this, but he has to go all the same. if the stairs end up killing him-- well, that would be hilarious, and he might as well embrace it. ]
Have to try.
[ he feels like crap, but the words are lighter. he can't stay, it's that simple. so a breath later, a look at cas, and he's getting up, unsteady in his movements but sure. a hand comes to his head, rubbing in circles as the aches increase with movements, his face pinched in momentary pain.
then it's a couple steps towards the door before he pauses, casting cas a quick look, eyes not quite meeting. ]
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indecadence) wrote2013-05-24 08:48 pm
no subject
he's surprised, when cas clings to his sleeve, turns to look at him with a barely raised brow. ]
What's it to you?
[ he's not entirely sure. he feels like crap -- maybe he still is drunk, who knows -- everything aching and hurting, yet nothing stings more than what had originally driven him to this, sam's betrayal coming back to him at full force. he doesn't pull away from cas though, just sort of lingers there....
he doesn't know where he's going or what he's going to do, only that staying here seems like a bad idea. ]
Not supposed to be here to begin with.
[ he offers a breath later, quietly. ]
no subject
So, they sit there beside each other while he looks at Dean and wonders. ]
I told you to stay. Whatever is out there can wait.
[ Meaning he's not ready to face those truths and consequences just yet, still burning from his conversation with Sam and waiting. He could bring it up, but he's tired and just wants to take these last few hours for himself. For them. But he's not that generous anymore. If Dean hasn't stumbled out of his room by now, maybe there's some hope left to salvage.
Then again, maybe all he wants to do is ask things that are never meant to be asked. ]
Besides, you wouldn't make it down the steps like that. [ So don't fight him on this. ]
no subject
even if cas probably can't tell.
dean grunts something, not quite denying that yeah, he probably can't make it down the steps like this, but he has to go all the same. if the stairs end up killing him-- well, that would be hilarious, and he might as well embrace it. ]
Have to try.
[ he feels like crap, but the words are lighter. he can't stay, it's that simple. so a breath later, a look at cas, and he's getting up, unsteady in his movements but sure. a hand comes to his head, rubbing in circles as the aches increase with movements, his face pinched in momentary pain.
then it's a couple steps towards the door before he pauses, casting cas a quick look, eyes not quite meeting. ]
Thanks.
[ and out the door!!! ]