[ Cas leaves, and Dean suddenly feels cold and alone; his skin feels shivery, fingers numb, body unable to move. He stays sitting on the edge of the bed for a long time, staring at the mess they made, at the empty space where Cas had just been.
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth. For your love is better than wine; your anointing oils are fragrant; your name is oil poured out.
Dean reaches out, curls his fingers into still warm sheets, twisting them in his fingers, pulling the rapidly cooling material to his face and breathing in long, deep, heart wrenching in his chest. He doesn't feel good about any of this; a black pit of anxiety settles deep in his stomach, churning his guts, bile in his throat. Movements are slow; Dean's brain is thick and foggy as he replays their night, the words they said, promises both unspoken and spoken. Methodically, and with all the meticulous precision of a hunter used to cleaning up messes, Dean strips the bed down, caps the lube and shoves it into his duffle, calls for a set of clean sheets.
Sam will eventually come back from whatever fuckery he was up to, and Dean will tell him an extremely shortened and PG version of Cas' visit, his mission and where he is, and demand that they wait here for him, because Cas said he'd be back.
It's a little silly to Sam, because they can just shoot Cas a message with their new location and he can come there instead, but Dean steadfastly refuses, and insists they wait here.
It has to be here.
The job is done, Sam will say the next morning when Cas doesn't show, though not unkindly, we should move on.
We stay here, is all Dean says. Sam, being on tenterhooks anyway, acquiesces, because what else can he say? Dean says they stay, so they will stay.
Bobby calls later that night, says there's no movement on the apocalypse front, but there's a job a couple hours away. Dean tells him no.
They have to stay here.
It triggers an argument between Sam and Dean, but the brothers had split once, and Dean knows precisely how that scenario ends - badly, endgame, death, disease - so they stay together, cooped up in this motel room. Bobby thinks they're idjits, but Dean has given his word, so they will camp out for another day. There is little to talk about, the tension hanging heavy in the room, thick and nearly tangible.
Dean is more frantic day 2, which confuses Sam, because Cas has gone weeks with no contact before, why this is different is a little odd to him - though Dean had said Cas thought he may die. Sam thinks maybe that was a little dramatic on Cas' part, and he's a little annoyed because you really can't tell Dean shit like that - he freaks out, when it's people he cares about, when it's people he loves.
He tries again, because they're the closest hunters to the job Bobby told them about, and Dean shouts at him that he's staying right here, because he told Cas he would, and he's not friggin' leaving, so just drop it already--
Sam drops it.
He doesn't like it, though - and he's fidgety, because there's some monster a few hours away killing innocents and their whole deal is saving people, and Sam is desperate for redemption, for justice. Eventually, Dean snaps at him that if it's so important, to just go, Dean will catch up with him when Cas comes. It's not like they're separating permanently, it's just covering more bases, isn't it? Sam sighs, because Dean is dramatic, but he nods - he'll hotwire a car, go check it out. They'll talk tonight, after Sam's done the first round of q&a with the locals, get a feel for what's happening.
Dean stays in the motel, alone, a full glass of whiskey that he spends most of that night nursing, trying not to panic, checking his phone every so often. Eventually, he will fall asleep sitting up in the bed, arms folded, ankles crossed, empty glass on the bedside table, next to his phone.
The morning of the third day comes, and Cas shows up, startling Dean out of sleep, bleary eyed but instantly on alert, launching himself to his feet, though he's groggy, it's inelegant, and he trips over his shoes that he left at the end of the bed, but Cas is back Cas is back Cas is back--
And injured, beaten to hell, and bleeding. ]
Shit, Cas--
[ He's instantly there, reaching to take the oil and set it out of the way before it's dropped and all of this was in vain. He'll catch him, if he stumbles, because that's what you do for friends, for people you love - you catch them when they fall, when they're hurt, you take care of your family. ]
no subject
[ Cas leaves, and Dean suddenly feels cold and alone; his skin feels shivery, fingers numb, body unable to move. He stays sitting on the edge of the bed for a long time, staring at the mess they made, at the empty space where Cas had just been.
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth. For your love is better than wine; your anointing oils are fragrant; your name is oil poured out.
Dean reaches out, curls his fingers into still warm sheets, twisting them in his fingers, pulling the rapidly cooling material to his face and breathing in long, deep, heart wrenching in his chest. He doesn't feel good about any of this; a black pit of anxiety settles deep in his stomach, churning his guts, bile in his throat. Movements are slow; Dean's brain is thick and foggy as he replays their night, the words they said, promises both unspoken and spoken. Methodically, and with all the meticulous precision of a hunter used to cleaning up messes, Dean strips the bed down, caps the lube and shoves it into his duffle, calls for a set of clean sheets.
Sam will eventually come back from whatever fuckery he was up to, and Dean will tell him an extremely shortened and PG version of Cas' visit, his mission and where he is, and demand that they wait here for him, because Cas said he'd be back.
It's a little silly to Sam, because they can just shoot Cas a message with their new location and he can come there instead, but Dean steadfastly refuses, and insists they wait here.
It has to be here.
The job is done, Sam will say the next morning when Cas doesn't show, though not unkindly, we should move on.
We stay here, is all Dean says. Sam, being on tenterhooks anyway, acquiesces, because what else can he say? Dean says they stay, so they will stay.
Bobby calls later that night, says there's no movement on the apocalypse front, but there's a job a couple hours away. Dean tells him no.
They have to stay here.
It triggers an argument between Sam and Dean, but the brothers had split once, and Dean knows precisely how that scenario ends - badly, endgame, death, disease - so they stay together, cooped up in this motel room. Bobby thinks they're idjits, but Dean has given his word, so they will camp out for another day. There is little to talk about, the tension hanging heavy in the room, thick and nearly tangible.
Dean is more frantic day 2, which confuses Sam, because Cas has gone weeks with no contact before, why this is different is a little odd to him - though Dean had said Cas thought he may die. Sam thinks maybe that was a little dramatic on Cas' part, and he's a little annoyed because you really can't tell Dean shit like that - he freaks out, when it's people he cares about, when it's people he loves.
He tries again, because they're the closest hunters to the job Bobby told them about, and Dean shouts at him that he's staying right here, because he told Cas he would, and he's not friggin' leaving, so just drop it already--
Sam drops it.
He doesn't like it, though - and he's fidgety, because there's some monster a few hours away killing innocents and their whole deal is saving people, and Sam is desperate for redemption, for justice. Eventually, Dean snaps at him that if it's so important, to just go, Dean will catch up with him when Cas comes. It's not like they're separating permanently, it's just covering more bases, isn't it? Sam sighs, because Dean is dramatic, but he nods - he'll hotwire a car, go check it out. They'll talk tonight, after Sam's done the first round of q&a with the locals, get a feel for what's happening.
Dean stays in the motel, alone, a full glass of whiskey that he spends most of that night nursing, trying not to panic, checking his phone every so often. Eventually, he will fall asleep sitting up in the bed, arms folded, ankles crossed, empty glass on the bedside table, next to his phone.
The morning of the third day comes, and Cas shows up, startling Dean out of sleep, bleary eyed but instantly on alert, launching himself to his feet, though he's groggy, it's inelegant, and he trips over his shoes that he left at the end of the bed, but Cas is back Cas is back Cas is back--
And injured, beaten to hell, and bleeding. ]
Shit, Cas--
[ He's instantly there, reaching to take the oil and set it out of the way before it's dropped and all of this was in vain. He'll catch him, if he stumbles, because that's what you do for friends, for people you love - you catch them when they fall, when they're hurt, you take care of your family. ]