@tobelongtoheaven / tobelongtoheaven.tumblr.com
dean was CONFUSED. the angel made no sense. though ONE thing was clear, despite how BIZARRE it was to witness:
‘are you stoned? ’
‘yes ---- generally.’
castiel grinned, more than just a little crooked. a common sight for the members of their but for this dean ---- maybe not so much.
‘not a surprise, is it?’
It was on the eve before their battle that even Chitaqua’s seemingly fearless leader seemed entirely unconvinced of his own plans. Beyond unconvinced, even, he was terrified. Not for himself; Dean would happily welcome death if it meant being at peace and being reunited with his family, with Sam. Despite everything, despite his plan of the Chitaquans being a decoy for the real deal, he feared for them. He’d lead them so far astray, and in the morning, he was going to send them into certain death. He wasn’t a good leader. He was simply a man trying to make something of a world long since brought to ruin. And even if he was going to die tomorrow, he didn’t have very high hopes of being at peace; Lucifer still inhabited Sam’s body, which probably meant the younger Winchester was still trapped somewhere in his own mind. If he wouldn’t be able to bring Lucifer down, he at least hoped to liberate Sam from the horrid bed he’d made for himself. Just because he’d made it, didn’t mean Dean was going to let his brother lie in it.
He was thumbing the edge of his third glass of whiskey when a knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up as though it was going to help him see through the door. Likely Cas accepting his invitation for last night on Earth drinks, though there was still that sneaking suspicion in the back of his mind that it might be one of the women he’d shared beds with in the past couple days. Then again, the knock was by far not angry enough for it to be one of them.
“C’mon in, door’s open.”
Well, it wasn’t literally open, but at least unlocked. He had a habit of keeping his door open for the Chitaquans to walk right on in if they had something important for him (unless he was in company of one of the women), but tonight, he’d opted to close the door, yet leave it unlocked, as he was of too troubled a mind to burden the rest of the camp-inhabitants with his worried expressions and bad drinking habits, but not strained enough to lock his door and shut everyone out. If his followers needed support on this last night, they would get it.
for once, castiel actually waited for dean to invite him in. usually, he would burst right in, door closed or not. this was the apocalypse, there was no time for false embarrassment. if important news had to reach their leader, it did not matter who he was with at that time. or what he was doing.
in a fight for life or death, privacy was no priority.
castiel stepped in the cabin when he was told so, closing the door behind him. camp chitaqua would survive one more night without their leader as a hand holder. and it was calm anyway. the calm before the storm, the ex-angel knew that.
( he distantly remembered the atmosphere being similar just before the war against lucifer had taken place. but that had been such a long time ago, his memory might as well betray him. )
‘hello dean,’ he greeted, as he sat down across from the man, a table between them. the memories of their earlier fight still lingering, but castiel was willing to ignore those for now. if it was their last night on earth, he was going to make it enjoyable. for them both. dean deserved it.
for a longer moment, it was quiet. castiel poured himself a glass of whisky, then another. not the healthiest lifestyle, but who was there to judge him? god certainly wasn’t.
‘are you afraid, dean? of tomorrow?’
never would he have asked this, if this wasn’t their last night alive but it was so ---- ‘are you afraid to die?’
i should really be on cas more often. i have never been happier to be s4 only, bc whatever is happening in s11 right now, i really don’t want to go through THAT trouble.
anyway, i’m here for now. hit like, if you wanna do some plotting via IM.
❛ Without you I would’ve needed stitches- or worse. ❜
┤♕├ Sam takes a quick glance at the Angel, wondering if the true helper was coming out of him, but didn’t put much thought into it- although he hoped that Angels were more than they appeared to be. Dean thought they were all dicks, but Sam? No, he didn’t believe that.
❛ What’re you doing here, anyway? ❜
sam was better of without speaking his mind. insulting his siblings in such a way ------- castiel would not forgive that easily.
‘i always keep an eye on you and dean. all of heaven does. for various reasons.’
not necessarily for tending to their wounds, but rather to constantly know that the brother’s were doing. though, castiel saw no harm in keeping sam alive, either.
{ ♫ };; —– The angel frowns- emerald orbs glancing up at the man. Maka tilt her head when he stepped back. Looks like he isn’t a fan of being approached. She understands, though. She’d find it rather scary too, or awkward. She nods, before taking a step back. Respecting his boundaries. ❝Alright. Sorry for bothering you.❞
castiel nodded, considering if he should step back further, if that girl was a threat to him --- but he stayed where he was. she was far too small to harm him.
what followed were a couple of minutes of uneasy silence.
‘did you ----- want something?’
i am over here for a while & will hopefully get some drafts done.
which means; you wanna go for some plotting, this is a nice chance.
“ we were both afraid, shut up. ”
six word sentence starters.@virtusferocia
‘you are afraid ----- but why would i be?’
❛ No that’s not—— ❜
┤♕├ Sam braces himself against the fingers that are placed to his forehead. He expects pain and instead receives healing. He reaches up to feel smooth skin, the scent of copper gone.
❛ Oh, uh… thanks, Castiel. ❜
castiel looks bewildered for just one moment. had his help truly been this UNEXPECTED? and that, when angels were supposed to help ------
it was a train of thoughts castiel refused to follow any further.
‘you do not have to thank me -----’
“It’s not a suicide mission, Cas. I can pull this off. I’ve done crazier stuff before, you know that, and I’m still here.”
‘not on MY watch, dean.’
Al watches Castiel in that unnerving way of his. Probably doesn’t make the other male uncomfortable (from what Al’s observed in the past), but Al has been told more than once that his tendency to stare right at people is intimidating. Or rude. Or both. But he’s not going to change it. He’s an analyst, down to the core. He analyzes data, so he does the same with people too.
“Hey.” Al reaches out to poke at the side of Castiel’s head. “You’re doing that thing again. Y’know. Thinking. A lot. Keep that up ‘n’ you’ll hurt yourself.”
He waves a flippant hand when Castiel asks who did this to him, laughter leaving him as he shakes his head.
“Nothin’ to worry ‘bout. They’re gone. Anyways, I’ve had worse.”
Al sets one hand against the wall as he starts to pull up onto his feet. He lets out a shaky breath to steady himself. The man clears his throat before finally saying, albeit awkwardly, but still sincerely,
“Thanks. Uh. Y’know. For bein’ here. And stuff. We should get going though. Avoid trouble while we can.”
castiel snapped out of his thoughts with that poke to his head. albus was right, he knew that ---- often enough had the other told him to stop it. and other’s, too, almost everyone he has ever bothered to connect with. time and time again he attempted to explain that it was useful, but for the most part, the angel had given up on that
‘we should hurry, then.’
he still wanted to know who did this ---- for no particular reason. usually he was not fond of taking revenge. which hasn’t changed. but sometimes, men needed a reminder who the should not lay their hands on. and to castiel, albus counted as a human worth his protection. end of the story.
‘do you need help with ----- walking? you seem a little unsteady.’
❛ I’m fine, Cas- just a little scratch. ❜
┤♕├ Not a ‘ little scratch ‘- actually a very large scratch; a deep scratch. One that needs stitches.
‘let me ---------’
without waiting for a reply or permission, before he reached out and touched sam’s forehead with two fingers. just a soft touch, but not a second later the scratch was gone. sam’s clothes cleaned. even the pain should be gone.
‘this should be better.’
‘ … what happened? ’
he acted weirdweirder than usual. of course, something must have happened to him the past five years, but the winchester couldn’t tell what… and cas was not much of a talker, really.
‘what happened?’
castiel laughed, differently from that polite smile he had to offer, five years ago. this did not even sound real.
‘oh dean. what has not happened? that’s the better question.’
‘ yeahthey’re dicks. what did y’do, anyway, pee in their cereal? ’
‘i don’t know -------- they might have been on lucifer’s side, but i am not sure.’
