Rating: R - for language? Really just one word.
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, eventually
Word Count: 2091
Spoilers: Season six – after episode 6.15, The French Mistake.
Summary: 30 snapshots showing a developing relationship
Authors Notes: I am attempting to jump start a HUGH writer’s block by doing some snapshots. The stories will all be part a one story arc. No beta, any mistakes are mine. The first snapshot, Dark, is posted in a slightly different version on my lj. I like this version better. This is my first Supernatural story.
Dark - Dean is hurt and there is no sign of Castiel
Dean floated in the dark.
It was comfortable, soft, and he didn’t want to wake up, but there was this annoying beeping sound. He tried to ignore it, but it was getting louder. Why was the clock radio set for alarm instead of music, and why wasn’t Sam turning it off? He must have already gotten up and gone for breakfast.
Damn, he hurt! Dean couldn’t remember getting into any fights last night, but something must have happened. And what about that floaty feeling? Like he was drunk, or on some good drugs. Whatever, right now he just wanted that dammed beeping to stop. Looked like he was getting up whether he wanted to or not. He turned over and reached for the bed side table.
Or rather, he tried to turn over. He couldn’t move. His arms were tied to rails on the sides of the bed. Dean lifted his head and opened his eyes, but was met by darkness. He couldn’t open his eyes; there was a blindfold over them. He franticly pulled at his arms, trying to get them free. The beeping sound increased in tempo. Dean heard footsteps racing down a hallway.
There was a hollow thump, the sound of a body hitting a door, then Sam’s voice.
“Dean, calm down. I’m here.” A large hand grabbed his right arm. “Stop, you’ll pull out your IV’s. Dean, it’s me, I’m here.”
Dean stopped struggling. “Sam, what’s going on? Where am I?” Dean panted and he could hear the beeping racing even faster. “What the hell is that noise? Can you turn it off?”
Sam’s hand moved up to Dean shoulder. “Dean, you are in the hospital, and, no I can’t turn the heart monitor off. The nurses would kick me out if I messed with the equipment.”
“Heart monitor? Sam, what the hell happened?”
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Dean stopped and concentrated. “Yelling at Cas for using us as a distraction so he could get the weapons.”
“You remember the damage to Bobby’s window?”
“Yeah.” He thought for a minute. “We put some of the plastic that Bobby uses in the winter across the window until it could be fixed.”
“Right, that’s what we did that night. Then the next morning we decided to go into town and get some plywood sheets and board it up.”
Dean shook his head. “I don’t remember anything past putting up the plastic and going to bed.”
“We took one of Bobby’s clunkers because you didn’t want to put the plywood in the back of the Impala. It needed gas, so we stopped at a convenience store. You told me to start filling it up and you went in to pay and get us some coffee.” Sam stopped.
“And boom. I don’t know exactly what happened; I was getting ready to fill the tank so my back was to the store. It was only a few seconds after I turned around when there was an explosion. The store had one of those racks full of propane tanks that people buy for their grills. The police think that a propane tank was leaking and someone lit a lighter or a match. One of the tanks was in pieces, but thankfully none of the others blew.” Dean heard Sam swallow and take a deep breath.
“I turned around and you were laying there. At first I thought you were dead. It looked really bad. There was no warning, so you didn’t have time to try to protect your face. There was a lot of flying debris and it really cut you up.” Sam stopped again.
“The doctor said that you would need surgery later. For the scaring.”
“Why the heart monitor?”
“It was touch and go for a while. You coded twice the first night.”
“The first night? How long have it been here?”
For a moment Dean couldn’t breathe. “I’ve been out for four days? Why didn’t you call Cas?”
There was a long silence. “I tried. The second day, when Bobby got here, I went back out to the yard and called for him. I yelled until I was hoarse, but he never showed. I even went to the chapel here in the hospital and prayed for him. Bobby did too, but we didn’t get an answer.”
Dean shook his head. “No, Cas wouldn’t ignore something like this. I mean, he probably wouldn’t fix me while I’m in here cause it would raise too many questions, but he would pop in and let me know that he would take care of things when I got out.”
Sam hesitated again. “Dean, I’m not sure but for just a split second, when I first turned around, I thought I saw Cas kneeling next to you. Then there was a flash, and he was gone. At the time I wasn’t sure, but later, after he didn’t answer, I .....” he trailed off.
“Sam, what are you saying?”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think the last few days. I don’t think the explosion was an accident. I think you were supposed to be hurt.”
Dean drew in a quick breath. “A trap for Cas.”
“I think so. Like you said, he wouldn’t stay away with you hurt like this. The only reason he hasn’t been here is because something is stopping him.”
There was another silence, then Dean said, “You’re not telling me everything. Give it to me straight, Sam. What else is wrong?”
“Like I said, there was a lot of flying debris. Both of your eyes were damaged. The doctors don’t know for sure, they needed to wait until you woke up to run the tests, but.....” his voice trailed off again.
Dean swallowed. “I’m blind.”
“They don’t know, but it seems likely. If not total blindness, at least diminished vision in both eyes.”
Dean heard the beeping sound speed up again, but the noise was fading, as was the sound of Sam yelling for the nurse. He was surrounded by muffling blackness, and he once again floated away into the dark.
Taste – Cas feels Dean’s pain.
Castiel wished that he was in his human form. His true form couldn’t heave an exasperated sigh, or roll its eyes. He valued his allies, he truly did, but right now he wanted to knock some sense into a few of them, especially Balthazar. He was being deliberately obstructive. He seemed to instinctively know which buttons to push to send the meeting into chaos.
“We don’t have time for this,” he began, but was then overwhelmed with a wave of pain. He crumbled, gasping. Balthazar rushed over.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
Balthazar moved back to his place. “Did your little human stub his toe? Really, Castiel, no wonder he seems to think he can order you around when you cater to his every injury.”
Castiel started to reply, when he was hit with another wave of pain, and he felt Dean die. “NO!” he moaned, and was gone.
Balthazar glanced at the others. “Looks like the meeting has been adjourned.” Between one blink and the next, the room was empty.
It was true that the sigils on Dean’s ribs hid him from any angelic eyes, but the extreme pain he was experiencing had traveled through their bond and allowed Castiel to fly directly to him. Castile materialized, taking in the destruction in a single glance. The air was full of smoke and the sounds of screams. Stronger still, was the smell of blood. So strong in fact, that when he drew a breath in though his vessel’s mouth, the copper taste of blood was there as well.
Dean’s body was at his feet, a young woman with dark hair on her knees next to him. A Reaper. Castiel knelt, placed his hand on Dean’s chest, and infused Dean with a touch of his grace to restart his heart, but before he could anything else, Castiel felt himself being ripped away.
There was a brief moment of disorientation, not unlike being banished. When Castiel blinked he found himself standing in the middle of an empty warehouse, in the center of an elaborate symbol that was etched into the concrete. He tried to move, but found that he could only take a few steps in any direction before running into an invisible barrier.
“Welcome to your new home, Castiel.”
He spun around. “Raphael.” It was somewhat disconcerting to see the cold, merciless, anger of the other archangel in the eyes of such a beautiful woman. “What do you mean?”
Raphael laughed. “It seemed clear enough to me. I wanted to trap you in a ring of holy oil, as you did me, but the oil doesn’t burn forever, and there are other ways of getting out.” She waved at herself. “Case in point. This however,” she pointed to the design in the floor, “this is permanent. I took great care in creating this. The lines are burned into the floor, not made of chalk or salt that can be scattered or erased. The building itself is covered in sigils that make it invisible to all eyes, human or angelic.”
She paced at the edge of the design. “There are also sigils that prevent you from connecting to the Host. You are cut off and isolated.” Raphael gave an evil grin. “With one small exception: the Winchesters. If they call for you, you will be able to hear them. Although I don’t think that Dean will be calling out to you, not in his condition.” He turned and started towards a doorway, but stopped after a few steps.
“I might come back for you, after I have ended your little rebellion. Give you a chance to repent and come home.” Raphael shrugged. “Or not. I’m not sure yet. In the meantime, you might as well get comfortable; you are going to be here a long time.” She started to turn again.
“Raphael, I will find a way out of here and when I do, there is nowhere in our Father’s universe that you can go that I will not be able to find you. By involving Dean Winchester in this you have gone too far. I will give you no more chances. The next time we meet, I will kill you.”
Raphael laughed. “Big talk for someone in your position, and I will do anything I wish with Dean Winchester. He is nothing to me; all humans are nothing to me.”
Castiel growled. “They are our Father’s creations and as such should be precious to us. As for Dean, touch him, or in any way cause him injury again, and I will not merely kill you, I will fucking destroy you.”
Raphael flinched away from the look in Castiel’s eyes, turned and hurried out of the building.
Castiel lost track of time as he threw himself at the barrier. He stopped when Sam’s voice sounded in the room, as clear as if he was standing there. Sam was calling for him, begging him to come and help Dean. Sam yelled and screamed for hours, the sound echoing in the empty building.
Castiel knelt in the center of the design, anguished and in despair. Dean’s blood stained the edge of his coat and as he stared at it he was startled to see small drops of water falling on the stain.
Castiel looked up, expecting to see a sprinkler that was dripping but saw nothing. Then he realized that his face was wet, that the liquid was coming from him, that he was crying. Castiel bowed his head and prayed to a Father he was no longer sure he believed in. And as he prayed for Dean, for Heaven, and for the innocent humans on Earth, he tasted the bitter salt of his tears.