Where He Belonged
Mar. 30th, 2020 06:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
queenkatyastarTitle: Where He Belonged
Author: Katya Starling
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairing: Castiel/Dean
Rating: PG/K+
Challenge/Prompt: SPN 750: Flight
Word Count: 778
Date Written: 29 March 2020
Warnings: None
Summary: Castiel has always flown to comfort his Dean.
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
He's watched over humans for eons. The brothers are far from being his first charges. He's cared for billions of other souls, though none more deeply or more important than these two, especially Dean. Dean likes to think his brother is the more important of them. He likes to put Sammy first in all things, but little does the man realize that that is one of many reasons why he is actually the more important brother. He's so full of love that he wants no one to see; love, not simple bravery, is what drives everything he does.
And it's what drives his fears in the night. It's why he has nightmares every time he dozes into actual sleep. It's why he cries in his slumber, and why Castiel aches to reach out to him. He used to fly to him from wherever he was. He watched over him as he grieved for his mother, as he grew angry with his father, and as he learned that everything was going to be up to him if he and Sammy were to survive. He watched him grow old long before his time, and tonight isn't the first time he's held him and not been known.
He used to fly to him. Every time he cried out in his sleep, every time he whimpered for his mother or for some one, any one, to care, Castiel had flown to his side, often receiving the wrath of God Himself. Angels were never meant to be involved so deeply with the human species after all. It was illicit love between Angels and humans that had created the first Giants, and Angels' jealousy over humans that had spawned the first Demons. There were very good reasons for humans and Angels to be kept separate, and Castiel knew every one of them.
He had known every one of them long before Dean had come into existence. He had once supported the fact that Angels were not meant to have, let alone show, emotions. He had once been able to keep apart and aloof from his charges. He had once neither understood or cared what hearts were truly meant for. But of course, all of that had been long before Dean.
Now God stayed angry with him. It wasn't just the Winchester brothers who He wanted stopped, though He would not intervene Himself. He wanted Castiel stopped. He wanted the love that had grown inside of the Angel over his years of watching over and caring for the brothers to be silenced. He wanted Cas just to be another cardboard copy, as Dean would say. He was meant to take orders and to obey, nothing less or more. He was certainly not meant to love.
But love he did. Love he had since he'd first seen the young boy's heart break. And that love had changed over the years. He still flew to Dean as fast as he could. He still cared for him far more than any other. He still loved him and yearned with almost a physical ache to see the young man be happy, to witness him be free and to actually be a young man for once.
Tonight wasn't going to be the night, though, he knew as he cuddled Dean close. His dearest friend was lost in the nightmares of reliving his past yet again. He'd cried out for his mother, for his father, for his brother who slept soundly and heedlessly in the next room, his bearlike snores rattling the window. Now his bruised lips broke open with a new cry, a new name. "Cas!"
"I'm here, Dean," he spoke quickly before he could so much as think to stop himself. God would not like the fact that he held Dean so closely and tenderly, nor was he at all certain that Dean himself would approve. But the words were already spoken. He'd made himself known to Dean's subconscious, if not to the man himself. "I'm here," he said again, more softly, his voice dropping to a whisper. His wings curled protectively around Dean as he held him closer.
"I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." If God Himself could not make Castiel leave Dean, Dean's distaste for their embrace also could not make him live. Even if he were to wake and send him away, when he again slumbered and once again cried out in his nightmares, Castiel would fly back to his side. He always had, after all. He might leave him at times, when he had to, but never for long. This was where he belonged, and this was where he would stay, no matter what.
The End
Author: Katya Starling
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairing: Castiel/Dean
Rating: PG/K+
Challenge/Prompt: SPN 750: Flight
Word Count: 778
Date Written: 29 March 2020
Warnings: None
Summary: Castiel has always flown to comfort his Dean.
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
He's watched over humans for eons. The brothers are far from being his first charges. He's cared for billions of other souls, though none more deeply or more important than these two, especially Dean. Dean likes to think his brother is the more important of them. He likes to put Sammy first in all things, but little does the man realize that that is one of many reasons why he is actually the more important brother. He's so full of love that he wants no one to see; love, not simple bravery, is what drives everything he does.
And it's what drives his fears in the night. It's why he has nightmares every time he dozes into actual sleep. It's why he cries in his slumber, and why Castiel aches to reach out to him. He used to fly to him from wherever he was. He watched over him as he grieved for his mother, as he grew angry with his father, and as he learned that everything was going to be up to him if he and Sammy were to survive. He watched him grow old long before his time, and tonight isn't the first time he's held him and not been known.
He used to fly to him. Every time he cried out in his sleep, every time he whimpered for his mother or for some one, any one, to care, Castiel had flown to his side, often receiving the wrath of God Himself. Angels were never meant to be involved so deeply with the human species after all. It was illicit love between Angels and humans that had created the first Giants, and Angels' jealousy over humans that had spawned the first Demons. There were very good reasons for humans and Angels to be kept separate, and Castiel knew every one of them.
He had known every one of them long before Dean had come into existence. He had once supported the fact that Angels were not meant to have, let alone show, emotions. He had once been able to keep apart and aloof from his charges. He had once neither understood or cared what hearts were truly meant for. But of course, all of that had been long before Dean.
Now God stayed angry with him. It wasn't just the Winchester brothers who He wanted stopped, though He would not intervene Himself. He wanted Castiel stopped. He wanted the love that had grown inside of the Angel over his years of watching over and caring for the brothers to be silenced. He wanted Cas just to be another cardboard copy, as Dean would say. He was meant to take orders and to obey, nothing less or more. He was certainly not meant to love.
But love he did. Love he had since he'd first seen the young boy's heart break. And that love had changed over the years. He still flew to Dean as fast as he could. He still cared for him far more than any other. He still loved him and yearned with almost a physical ache to see the young man be happy, to witness him be free and to actually be a young man for once.
Tonight wasn't going to be the night, though, he knew as he cuddled Dean close. His dearest friend was lost in the nightmares of reliving his past yet again. He'd cried out for his mother, for his father, for his brother who slept soundly and heedlessly in the next room, his bearlike snores rattling the window. Now his bruised lips broke open with a new cry, a new name. "Cas!"
"I'm here, Dean," he spoke quickly before he could so much as think to stop himself. God would not like the fact that he held Dean so closely and tenderly, nor was he at all certain that Dean himself would approve. But the words were already spoken. He'd made himself known to Dean's subconscious, if not to the man himself. "I'm here," he said again, more softly, his voice dropping to a whisper. His wings curled protectively around Dean as he held him closer.
"I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." If God Himself could not make Castiel leave Dean, Dean's distaste for their embrace also could not make him live. Even if he were to wake and send him away, when he again slumbered and once again cried out in his nightmares, Castiel would fly back to his side. He always had, after all. He might leave him at times, when he had to, but never for long. This was where he belonged, and this was where he would stay, no matter what.
The End
