#or when they go to diff sides and reframe:

[dannidorina]

WIPS // you couldn’t have paid me any real dollar amount to convince me I’d have transformers OCs six months ago.

[fanfic-scribbles]

07. Blood

A/N: I referenced 09x09 “Holy Terror” (well, ‘referenced’, ‘stole dialogue from’, same diff) and I know Cas wasn’t super touchy-feely, but he was affectionate and had only had one beer so for this I feel okay in writing super!drunk!Cas as very, very affectionate and tactile. Because it’s cute and I can. I need to write super!drunk!Cas more.

Words: 1812 (the worst. drabbler. ever.)

Warnings: Show-level violence, twisting of canon to suit my purpose and desires, drunk!touchy-feely!Cas, some angsting, some hurt-comfort, fluff.

  One thing you don’t mind about this is that Drunk Cas is a happy drunk. He smiles and tries to laugh at Dean’s jokes. He does laugh at a couple of jokes Sam and Gabe make while Dean teases them for being nerds. You stay quiet, just enjoying the sight of your friends being so…normal. Happy. You try not to dwell on how this can only end in tears and tragedy, especially with the way Gabriel is smirking and very, very slowly nursing his own drink, but why not enjoy the good times while they last?

Cas suddenly leans against you– and stays. You’re not sure what your face is getting up to, but Dean, Sam, and Gabe all smirk like they can see inside your head. You try to think of something smart and sharp to say, to make them stop, but Cas nuzzles your shoulder and your brain short-circuits.

Gabe hides his head in his arms and shakes with laughter and Dean chokes on his beer. Sam takes a large swig and pats Dean roughly on the back, hiding his own laughter. It doesn’t matter because none of this registers to Cas at all; he just stays so very, very distractingly close to you and rests his head on your shoulder and can you just die now, feeling like this? If you get to Heaven, it’s going to turn out to be this moment. Forever.

“Why are you so quiet?” Cas grumbles, his voice right there, bouncing in your ear, echoing in your head, reverberating through your body. “I like it when you talk.”

“You–…you do?” you ask, shaking slightly. If you turn right now your lips and his lips will be just a centimeter apart and–

“Mmm.” He licks his lips and oh fuck you can hear every slight motion and this– this is not helping. He picks up your beer bottle and swishes it. “Is it because you are thirsty? Your drink is gone.”

“You’re right. I am thirsty. I’ll be right back!” you say, gently move Cas so he’s leaning against the table, and run away before anyone can stop you. You sit at the bar for a moment, waiting for the bartender and trying to squeeze out this extra nervous energy. You’re tapping your fingers and your foot and trying to breathe.

“You practically had him in your pocket. Why’d you run away?” Sam asked and leaned next to you.

“It– just–” You breathe deep. “He’s drunk. He– he probably won’t even remember this when he sobers up.”

“You sound like you’re making excuses,” Sam says. You ignore him to order a new round of beers for the humans.

“Well…maybe I just need to get drunk too,” you say. You’re already on the way. What can it hurt?

“That’s the spirit,” Sam says, knocking you with his elbow as he carries his and Dean’s beers to the table. From this angle Dean and Gabe’s backs are to you and you can see a smile creasing through Cas’s face. You sigh and take a swig, hoping that a few more beers will make you respond to Cas’s affection with something other than abject terror.

However that pleasantly happy buzz stops building when Dean adds to whatever conversation they were having: “April? Wasn’t that the reaper you banged?”

“Yeah, and that you stabbed,” Cas says. He’s smiling. Smiling.

You blink, because there is a way to remember Cas’s encounter with April and this is not it. But Dean says, “Yeah,” and after a pause, adds, “She was hot.”

You remember her well. She had snarled just before repeatedly bashing your face in.

“So hot,” Castiel says. “And very nice. Well, up until she started torturing me.”

You grip your beer with both hands, almost threatening to break the bottle. Cas is still relaxed. Pleasantly so, not like when you barged into that bitch’s apartment and saw him in the chair, already de–

“Guys,” Sam says urgently, cutting off whatever stupid thing Dean is trying to get out. Dean and Gabe turn to you and Cas looks at you, so innocent, and you can’t get mad at him for reframing that awful, awful time in a way that makes it easier for him to deal with, can you?

You don’t know if you can, but you do.

“Shit,” Dean says and Cas sobers a bit at your expression. He says your name, like he did when he had woken up to see you crying over him in that chair and suddenly you just…can’t.

After what she did to him, that bitch is still a fond memory?

Sam murmurs your name but everything wonderful has become everything awful and you turn and leave. You walk outside, onto the patio. The storm has dispersed and the rain is falling much more calmly now, but it’s still cold and everything is soaked and so you find yourself alone, replaying one of the absolute worst days of your life.

  “Get away from him!” you shouted and used the hilt of your angel blade to knock against her head. She fell aside, stunned by the surprise attack and you fell to your knees in front of Cas. “Cas…Cas! Castiel!” you begged, grabbing his shoulders but he was so still and the motions just caused more blood to drain from the wound in his chest. From the carvings etched into still-warm skin.

“It’s too late!” April snarled and grabbed you by the shirt. She threw you back and proceeded to beat the shit out of you. You barely tried to fight back. Every tooth knocked out, every punch that made you spit blood…it was just something you deserved. You had one job– find Cas. While Gabriel restored Heaven and cleared Cas’s name, and Sam and Dean went looking for Cas’s grace, you were supposed to find the runaway angel before his enraged family did. And you failed. You failed so much that he had been tortured for who knew how long. The blood was caked around deep wounds and the hole in his chest was so deep that all the blood was probably under him by now. You couldn’t do anything when the reaper raised her sword over you. You just looked at Cas.

A boot passed by your field of vision and your eyes snapped back to see Dean, running her through with your angel blade that had been lost in the ruckus. You scrambled up and pulled and slid your battered body over to Cas, away from Sam’s well-meaning but annoying attempt to help you, and you prayed to Gabriel in desperate screams.

  Your name is murmured close by and you flinch as your (dry) jacket is placed over your shoulders. A glance shows you Cas, standing next to you and looking much more sober. And concerned. You thump your head on a railing and sigh. Cas was happy. Now he’s not. Go you. But Cas is, also, not taking your crap– he pulls you up and turns you, placing the railing at your back and making you face him. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

You bite your tongue for a second. Then you open your mouth but he leans in close, so close, and says, “Do not tell me ‘nothing’.”

You glare at him. How dare he get mad at you. You try to be sympathetic –it was more traumatic for him than for you– but, fuck it, it was still plenty traumatic for you too. “I hate her,” you hiss. “I know she’s dead and gone and I hope she’s rotting in hell or whatever passes for hell for a reaper. But I still hate her.”

Cas blinks. “April?” he asks, like he hadn’t just been getting starry-eyed about whatever romp they’d had. “I’m not overly fond of her myself. Seeing as she killed me.”

He’s trying to make a joke but it just makes you angrier and you spin back around to face the cold, rainy night. “Really? Thought she was nice. And don’t forget pretty.”

Cas is silent and leans next to you. For a few moments it’s just the pattering of rain on the pergola and patio. He clears his throat awkwardly. “It…wasn’t really the memory of April herself that I was fondly remembering,” he says softly. “That time was a very dark period for me. I was alone, I felt awful for what I had helped Metatron do…that I could do nothing to fix it. My brothers and sisters hated me, I was cold and hungry and so entrenched in feelings that I…”

You glance and see him focused on his hands. “She invited me in, gave me food and warmth and an experience I had desired for some time, and I…it was comfort when I needed it the most.”

“Why did you run from us?” you ask. “We would have taken care of you Cas, you know that.”

“I knew that you would help me at the expense of your own safety, your own lives.” He looks right at you, steady and firm. “That was why I had to run. My brothers and sisters were incensed. They would have tortured and killed you.”

“We’re hunters, Cas. Torture and death are some side-effects of the gig,” you say.

He stands to face you and says, “Not because of me. It will not ever be because of me.”

Your eyes drift down to his chest. Covered by a shirt, and a tie, but you know exactly where that wound was. You’ll never forget it. Without thinking, you reach to touch it, but Cas takes your hand in his. He holds it. “It has been healed,” he says gently.

“I can still see it,” you whisper. You start to pull your hand back but he uses it to pull you into him– and he keeps you there with a hug. “Cas?” you ask but you don’t feel inclined to pull away. He smells earthy, and sweet like whatever Gabe had brought them to drink. “You…you’ve gotten pretty good at hugs.”

“I’ve enjoyed the practice,” he says. One hand is on your back and the other is holding your head. If you weren’t still riding out bad memories, this might be your new Heaven. “If I hold you like this, then you can’t see it.”

You stifle a laugh. “You can’t hold me here forever, Cas.”

“I can do it until the memory fades. And if it comes back to you again, then I can hold you like this again.”

You don’t say anything, but you think of Gabriel kneeling next to Cas, healing him with a bright light tinted gold. You remember the bloodied carvings in his chest fading away and blue eyes opening in dazed confusion; the feeling of unchecked relief after you realized you didn’t want to live in a world without this one, particular angel.