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lunastories · 7 years

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Love me to Death

Link: AO3

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester (Destiel)

Warnings: Major Character Death

Tags: Dean is Death, death!dean, that's why there's a major character death tag lol, because I mean Cas kinda has to die to meet his fave person in the universe, angst, brothers grimm au, fairytale based, AU, self harm, suicide, more information on the warnings in the end notes

Word Count: 9219

Square filled: Brothers Grimm AU

Summary: There once was a man who feared Death. He feared him so much, he tried to seek immortality but his efforts were in vain. Eventually, he learned to love Death and everything he represented. This is the story of a mortal and a god and their love for each other.

A/N: Written for @spnangstbingo . Now with amazing graphic art by @envydean! You can check it out here. Edit: Now with an awesome multimedia art piece by @uncelestieldestiel! You can find it here.

There once was a man who feared death. Nestled in the outskirts of the kingdom, Castiel lived in a small village that had seen many trials and tribulations. He watched as his family died, one by one, succumbing to an unknown disease. He watched as slowly, the once prosperous village dwindled down to a meager population of one human and many wild animals.

He knew he was next. As the last survivor, he understood, with a steady resignation, that he had lived longer than most and he should be grateful for it. Standing alone in a field that smelled more of decaying flesh than the poppies that had once populated the vast open area, Castiel felt only a disparaging sense of loneliness. His isolation and the silence of a land unused to such despair, led him to pray for salvation. He tried everything he could to save himself, shaking as he knelt by his bedside. The candlelight cast a glow over his body, one that highlighted his malnourished form and the dulled glimmer of his blue eyes. “Please.” He would breathe out in a hoarse whisper, the final symptoms of the disease showing in his sunken cheeks and the blood that oozed out of the sores on his body. “Please just one more day.” The next day, he died.

When Castiel opened his eyes he sighed, the grimace pulling at his face even though he knew it was just the residue phantom limb sensation of a physical body. He floated to his feet, his steps silent as he walked through the fog to find the man he seeked. He practically glided across the floor, his motions unhindered. He was unselfconscious of his nudity, as there was no point in being embarrassed. The first few times he’d been here it had been jarring but now it was mostly just irritating. Frowning, he passed the barrier and knew he had entered Death’s territory. Where before he was in the hazy nothingness of Limbo, he now felt the imagined prick of leaves on his bare feet, the forest floor almost moist with dew. He lazily stretched out a hand to the deer that approached him, smiling gently when it nosed at his hand before bounding off and disappearing between one blink and the next. The moon lit his path as he walked through the forest, following a trail he knew by heart. All the creatures and the scenery were conjured by Death; it seemed the man was more comfortable in a domain which resembled mortal lands. It was something that had piqued Castiel’s interest, this small detail that seemed otherwise insignificant. Despite his god-like position in the universe, Death remained utterly fascinated with life. Even now, after all the times he’s entered this realm, it still left a sense of awe in him. It was this otherworldly nature of it that seemed to be intertwined in every molecule in the air. Even though Death tried to mimic the mortal realm, there was still a mystical quality to the forest that made it seem just a little off. Still, he could appreciate the effort. As if sensing his presence, the forest almost rustled in excitement, the moon brightening its glow for one unnatural moment before dimming. After a few more steps, he reached the clearing. As usual, Death was sitting cross legged on a giant rock, his hands loosely settled on his knees. He was dressed in his usual bizarre combination of robes, a ceremonial purpose for it that Death never bothered to explain to him. It was an elegant piece of clothing, layered with long sleeves. The color was pitch black but in the light it seemed to shimmer blue at times. The entire clearing was covered in red poppies, the color almost like fresh spilled blood. The man’s eyes were luminescent and focused unerringly on him, glowing of a green color that reminded Castiel of life and spring. Ironic really, since he was quite literally Death. Death grinned wide and jumped down, almost stumbling in his haste. He barely caught himself with a hand on the boulder, straightening up with a sheepish rub to the back of his neck. Death approached the mortal and waved his fingers a little, frowning when Castiel seemed to stare back at him in confusion. “Hi Castiel.” Death hesitated, waving his fingers again. “This is still the greeting for humans correct?” Castiel tilted his head, considering the weird gesture Death had just shown him and quirked his lips up to one side in amusement. “Hello, Death.” Castiel paused, his eyes drifting as he drank in the sight of the man before him. “I wouldn’t know. I lived in a small village this time. Hardly the center of new age thought.” “Ah.” Death murmured, his gaze darting over Castiel’s body, observing with those haunting eyes of his. They flared for a moment, the power in them breathtaking before fading back to his unassuming green. Castiel felt his own breath hitch at the display, a needless reaction seeing as he didn’t exactly need to breathe in this form. Still, they were ingrained in him, his reactions to this mysterious man. Dean smirked, noting the way Castiel had reacted to his glowing eyes. “I’m glad to see you again.” “Wish I could say the same to you. Death is never fun.” Castiel grimaced, remembering how he’d had a high fever after his prayers and subsequently died after choking on his own vomit. Death’s lips thinned, his eyes playful even as his mouth pulled into a sympathetic grimace. “Hey, I’m plenty fun.” Death laughed as he winked at Castiel, making him feel shivery inside. Castiel cleared his throat, looking down at his incorporeal feet. Dean leaned in close, forcing Castiel to meet his eyes before his softened with affection, the green of them glinting in the light. “And I told you already to call me Dean.” This time Death’s grimace was real, a furrow in his brows with teeth bared. “Being called Death makes me feel old. It’s a bit too morbid for my taste.” Castiel rolled his eyes at that, though his smile showed his fondness for the god in front of him. “Only you would complain about that.” “Well, I wouldn’t want to feel like I’m robbing the cradle. Especially if we’re dating.” Dean’s words were said with a sense of confidence to it, as if he was used to getting what he wanted. Slowly, Castiel took a step back, sighing and folding his arms across his chest as he did. He hugged himself, chewing at his lips absentmindedly. He couldn’t feel the bite of his teeth, but it was the familiar motions that helped settle him. “Dean we’ve talked about this before.” Castiel’s words were solemn, the regret in them palpable as he darted his eyes up to face Dean head on. The god’s eyes were flinty with hurt and they shone with a sort of desperation. He stepped closer to Castiel, holding his palms up beseechingly when the mortal took another hasty step back. Dean stopped his advance then, dropping his hands down and clenching them into fists. “Yes, we have, but I don’t care.” “Dean-” “Why can’t we be together? I don’t mind waiting lifetimes for you. As long as we have these few moments in Limbo together I’m happy.” Castiel closed his eyes, the action useless because in this form he could sense Death from a mile away. Dean felt like the void of sleep and the absence of light. He felt like the dark things that mold, the smell of dead leaves and the cold fear of the unknown. These parts of Dean barely scratched the surface and it reflected his role as Death. However, Castiel also knew that Dean was lonely. He knew the man enjoyed growing poppies, mostly because the red brought a pop of color to the perpetual night in his realm. He knew that the god had a weird fascination with the development of transportation, claiming that it would go far and that one day humans would be riding fast speedy things that roared like thunder and smelled of smoke. He knew that Dean was almost childlike in his intensity, always wanting to learn more about the human realm and their foods. He also knew that Dean loved him, for some indecipherable reason. Castiel was always too afraid to ask, terrified the answer wouldn’t be one he could accept. Still, it was obvious to him that a relationship like this would never work. He couldn’t stay in Limbo for long, otherwise his soul would disintegrate. It was always nice seeing Dean for these brief moments, but a relationship was unrealistic. Castiel opened his eyes, huffing out a breath heavily through his nose as he walked past the god and into the field of poppies. He ignored the defeated slump of Dean’s shoulders, knowing the man would pull himself together soon enough. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. As predicted, Dean straightened up, giving himself a quick shake before turning around and facing Castiel with a tentative smile. “I guess I’ll try again next time.” He didn’t say anything, only staring at Dean as he walked over to the poppy nearest to Castiel and plucked it with strong fingers. It was time. Castiel felt the tugging sensation deep within him, an urgency to it that increased the longer he stood there. Dean tucked the flower behind Castiel’s ear, the large poppy clinging to his skin through Dean’s powers; he was incorporeal after all. “What’s this one for?” Castiel whispered, shuddering as he felt his soul slowly disperse, little spheres of flashing blue flying away. “For luxury and beauty. Your last life was pretty harsh.” Dean stepped closer, his eyes conflicted. Already Castiel could see the man shuttering his feelings away, hiding the constant loneliness that plagued him. It was only because of the sadness in his gaze that Castiel closed his eyes and allowed Dean to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost pretend he could feel the warmth of it. “I need to go.” Dean’s hands tightened on his face, the press of his hands heavy on his cheeks. The man crowded closer, as if reluctant to let him go. “Stay.” Dean whispered, his voice pained as he rested his forehead against Castiel’s. “I can’t.” And with those last words, his consciousness left his body. Vaguely, he remembered floating and drifting gently around Dean, the man reaching out to touch the blue blinking lights he’d become. Dean had told him once it reminded him of fireflies, a phenomenon he’d not had the opportunity to witness in his many lifetimes. The flower that Death had bestowed upon him floated with him, a blessing to be carried on to his next life. With one final caress, his soul flowing over the entity that was so much more powerful than he was, Castiel disappeared.

There once was a man who feared death.

The court would say he was blessed, that the birthmark of a poppy flower on the side of his neck meant he was destined for wealth and beauty. Castiel would not deny it, instead enduring the reverent gazes of both nobleman and ladies alike. His birthmark was something that brought him both joy and trouble.

When he touched it, fingers gentle on stubbled skin, it felt like the caress of another. Sometimes, the flower seemed almost alive, resonating with his soul. It made him feel...lonely. There was a gaping emptiness in his heart that he noticed over the years, the feel of it all consuming and almost overwhelming. He didn’t know why, but some nights he woke up gasping, the phantom sensation of cold skin and rough lips on his forehead. The dreams (memories, a part of him whispered) haunted him. The noble did not enjoy the attention his mark brought him, but the man knew it was necessary to keep his position. As long as the population worshipped him, he would live comfortably. A noble in status, many people respected and feared him. Castiel was a fearless noble, one who believed he was owed the wealth he carried and the privileges he enjoyed. One day, after the death of one of his beloved retainers, he realized something dreadful. Life was too short. Everyone eventually died. It was then that he developed a fear of death. He didn’t want to lose his wealth and his power. He wanted to live forever. Following the guidance of a witch doctor he hired, he went on many journeys across the land, searching for an elixir of eternal life. He spoke to animals and people alike, learning the lay of the land he ruled. It was eye opening. He realized with shock that he’d never known the people he was responsible for. They gave him more than they had, and they were generous to a fault. Their actions humbled him and he returned to his castle wiser and older. He decided that his search for immortality was futile. Why search for eternal life when he could just enjoy the one he had currently? It was more than enough. The noble ignored the voice inside of him that said it wouldn’t be enough. He ignored the part of him that told him eternal life wasn’t what he’d really wanted. He’d been searching, a compulsive action, but he knew it was never about immortality. He searched because he felt empty. When he eventually passed away, buried in a field of red poppies, he was one of the most beloved nobles of the land and his people sang songs of his legacy.

He felt unmoored, drifting. With a content stretch, his consciousness filtered in and he opened his eyes. He languidly floated upright, heading into Death’s realm. Limbo was always empty and the white of it was boring to stare at.

When he stepped into the clearing, he felt his mouth pull into an involuntary grin, his voice gentle. “Hello, Dean.” Dean smiled without opening his eyes, the soft twitch of it highlighting his dimples. He stretched quickly, pulling both arms above his head and clasping them to each other to pull up his muscles. Shaking himself a little, he finally jumped down from the rock, this time significantly more graceful than the last. Stepping up to Castiel, Dean lifted his arms up before hesitating and dropping them back to his sides. Usually Castiel wouldn’t initiate contact between them because he didn’t want to mislead Dean. He was adamant that they couldn’t have a relationship. But...the life of a noble he’d lived showed him something he’d long suspected. Even with all the wealth he wanted and constant attention from admirers, he lived his noble life with a strong sense of longing. He always felt incomplete. It had made him pensive, towards the end of his life. Even then, he’d tried his best to take care of his people and make sure they were happy. He wasn’t happy but that didn’t mean he should drag his people down with him. It was with a sense of resignation, when he’d opened his eyes in Limbo, that he accepted who was causing that longing from within him. A feeling of love so strong that he felt it even through his different lives and with no memory of Dean. Still overwhelmed with the want inside of him, he pulled Dean close with a hand on his arm. Dean looked startled but went with the movement willingly, allowing Castiel to wrap his arms around the man. Tentatively, Dean hugged him back, pressing his face into Castiel’s neck and breathing in deeply. There was a certain amount of awe to Dean’s slow breathing, the tickle of it directly on the spot his birthmark had been in his last life. Castiel closed his eyes, enjoying this moment. Gradually, he felt himself relax in increments until he no longer felt so lost. This was what he’d been searching for his whole life. These interactions with Dean kept him alive. Castiel finally pulled back, Dean reluctantly letting go. They stared at each other for a second, letting the usual happiness they felt at seeing each other wash over them. “Hi Cas, how was the noble life?” Dean finally asked, pulling the man by his arm to the rock and lightly pushing him until he sat down. The poppies were tall, almost up to their chests as they sat, leaning against the rock. It should have made him feel suffocated but it just felt like a warm hug, like a blanket. The poppies were Dean’s creations after all, and the touch of them was almost playful as the wind rustled through them, brushing the flowers against his exposed skin. “It was...an interesting experience.” Castiel finally settled with, shifting until he was leaning companionably against Dean’s side. He knew that the god had only wanted the best for him by giving him that blessing. He didn’t want to sound ungrateful. “Ah,” Dean pulled one knee up and rested his arm against it, glancing at Castiel quickly before staring out into the woods surrounding them. “You don’t sound all that excited about it.” Castiel shrugged, unwilling to admit he’d been unhappy because he didn’t have Dean with him. Dean let the topic go, knowing by Castiel’s tense form that he didn’t want to talk about it. “Well, I’ll try to give you something else next time.” Dean settled with saying, brushing against Castiel’s bare shoulder lightly with his own. “I’m sure we’ll find something you’ll like eventually.” “Dean.” Castiel sighed, giving in to his impulses and resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. He could feel Dean’s barely controlled glee at his rather affectionate gesture. Wisely, Dean didn’t say anything, just raising a hand up to card through Castiel’s dark hair. “You know you can’t keep giving me blessings, it’s unfair.” Dean scoffed, the sound jolting his body. “How do you know I’m not giving other souls the same blessings?” Castiel lifted his head up just enough to meet Dean’s eyes with a raised eyebrow, clearly doubtful of Dean’s claims. Dean for his part only laughed. Castiel smiled, helpless in the face of Dean’s happiness. It’s been a long time since he’s seen Dean laugh sincerely. “Okay point taken.” Dean replied to Castiel’s unspoken skepticism, his chuckles dying down enough for Castiel to resume his position, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. Still, even through Castiel’s protests, Dean plucked a poppy and slid it behind his ear. When Castiel asked what this one was for, Death’s eyes had grown distant, an almost fleeting look of bittersweet hurt passing through. “This one is for dreams.” They sat for a moment, bathing in the moonlight. “You’re special to me, you know?” Death spoke up in the tranquil quiet, his voice a soft rumble that Castiel could feel through his soul. When Dean slowly cupped a hand to his cheeks, turning his head until he could press a light kiss to his lips, Castiel didn’t resist. He pressed closer, holding onto Dean’s wrist with one hand and letting out a barely audible groan as he breathed. After a few more gentle pecks, he pulled away, his dark eyelashes fluttering on his cheeks and the flush of them an imagined reaction to the stimulation Dean gave him. Dean’s eyes flared a brilliant green, the man clearly affected by their kisses. “I know.” They didn’t speak much after that and when Castiel slowly drifted into balls of light, flying to his next life, Dean clenched his fists and resisted the urge to punch something in frustration.

There once was a man who feared death. The young man was stuck in a college that he didn’t want to go to, following the wishes of his parents. He was afraid that his time would run out and he would never be able to accomplish his goals. He had so many things he wanted to do, so many dreams. Dreams were the bane of Castiel’s existence. While he tried to be an obedient child, tried to follow his parents orders, he sometimes wished he could rebel. The man didn’t know when he started thinking like that, but he decided it was probably after the dreams started. Dreams of poppy flowers, a flower he’d never even seen before in person, and the gentle press of lips against his. Most of all, Castiel remembered startling green eyes, ones that crinkled in mirth and glowed with pleasure. He dreamed of a man that radiated power but held himself casually. The student, after a one night stand he hadn’t anticipated (her eyes were just so familiar, it had been hard to resist), startled out of his post-coitus bliss by the words of his bed partner. “So, have you told them yet?” The woman asked, her eyes staring into the ceiling of the small dorm room. The man looked over at her, brows furrowed in confusion. “Who?” “The person you’re in love with.” The woman replied. When she turned her head to face him his breath hitched, the bright green of her eyes hypnotizing. “You were thinking of someone else.” He swallowed hard, his mind bringing up images of similar haunting green eyes. Fleeting phantom sensations of lips on his, pressing and moist, swept a shiver down his spine. He turned his back to her, clearly dismissing her words. “You should tell them.” The man closed his eyes, and dreamed. The night, his life slipped away peacefully, amidst dreams of dimpled smiles and arms that hugged him tight. He welcomed death.

“We really gotta stop meeting like this.” Dean joked, the moment Castiel stepped foot into the clearing. Castiel only rolled his eyes, his lips quirking up in amusement. “This is the only place we can meet Dean.” Castiel deadpanned, his expression warming when Dean met him halfway with a hug. “I’ve missed you.” Dean breathed out, his slowly tracing up Castiel’s spine to cup at his neck. Castiel closed his eyes, relaxing into the embrace. He felt enveloped and warm, almost high on the sense of home he felt with Dean. Eventually, he pulled back from Dean’s arms, just enough to press a kiss onto the man’s lips. Dean froze in surprise. This was the first time Castiel had kissed him of his own volition and though he was ecstatic, he still needed answers. “Cas…” Reluctantly, Castiel stopped, letting out a huff of breath. He knew it was time to come clean. His recent life had been particularly eye opening to him and the woman he’d met had shone a light on his own feelings. He’d suspected they’d been there for a while, but it wasn’t until now that he felt that maybe he should give them a chance.

“Dean, I love you.” Castiel’s eyes bore into Dean’s trying to gauge his reaction. He held onto Dean’s hands, feeling how they slackened at his words. “You...love me.” It was an astonished whisper, one that made Castiel smile. Dean frowned then, pulling his hands away from Castiel. “Then why did you say no?” This time it was Castiel’s turn to take a step towards Dean, hugging the man tight in his arms. He could feel how agitated Dean was, his posture stiff and unyielding even as Castiel rubbed a soothing hand down his back. Dean seemed to shrink into himself then, as if by making himself smaller he could lessen the inevitable pain of rejection. “I said no because it’s unrealistic, Dean. We only have these short moments in between lifetimes, there’s just no logical way for us to stay together.” Castiel’s words were matter-of-fact, not aimed to hurt but rather spell out the truth. Dean let out a harsh bark of laughter, trying to pull away from Castiel but stopping when the man’s arms held strong. “Then why would you tell me that you love me?” Dean’s voice was muffled in Castiel’s shoulder, where the man had pressed his face, trying to seek comfort even as Castiel hurt him. “Because Dean, I think-” Castiel paused, biting his lips nervously before pulling back enough to meet Dean’s eyes. Dean, although still terrified of the damage Castiel could inflict with his words, met Castiel’s gaze head on. He would face this, no matter the outcome. Even if it hurt. As if sensing the resolve in his eyes, Castiel carefully lifted up one of Dean’s hands with his own, exposing his wrist and pressing a warm kiss to his pulse point. Dean watched, mesmerized, as the human stared into his glowing eyes. Although Castiel was human and didn’t have the same eye glowing properties that Dean had, Castiel’s dark blue eyes were always so beautiful they seemed to shine with magic to him. Now, he could see the fierceness in them and the love. “I think you’re worth it Dean. I want to give this a try, I want to give us a try.” Castiel held tightly to Dean’s wrists, his body trembling with barely perceptible movements. The human was just as scared as the god. Dean wasn’t alone in this. That knowledge relaxed him and he smirked, teasing Castiel with his words. “What a bold human you are, propositioning Death like this.” “Dean.” It was an admonishment but Castiel’s voice was laced with relief and amusement. He softened at the grumpy face Castiel wore, stepping closer and kissing him with a hint of teeth. He moved on to the human’s throat, biting as he went, relishing in the moans it pulled out of Castiel.

When he finally pulled back, disappointed at the lack of marks on Castiel’s incorporeal form, his voice was solemn. “If we do this...if I have you, then you will be mine forever. Just as I’ll be yours.” “Is that-” Castiel paused, wetting his lips. “Is that a promise?” “Yes.” Dean pressed another kiss to Castiel’s lips, feeling an overwhelming joy bubbling within him at finally being able to be with the man he loved. “It’s a vow.” Steadily, Castiel felt the pull again, the call of his next life. He let out a whine of distress, resisting as long as he could. Eventually, he stepped away from Dean, panting at the strain. “I want to stay.” Castiel said, his eyes watering at both the pain and the helplessness he felt. They would be separated again for another lifetime and he couldn’t stand that. Not again, he couldn’t take another empty life without memories of Dean. “Please, I don’t want to forget you.” Dean pressed his lips into a thin line, his face full of regret. He may have asked Castiel to stay before, but they both knew it wouldn’t be possible. Not without his soul imploding and disappearing forever. “You can’t, Cas.” “I just-” Castiel cried out, falling to his knees, his form dissipating slowly into blue orbs of light. “I don’t want to forget you.” Castiel pleaded again, curling in on himself. Dean crouched down, plucking a poppy from the field. He tucked it behind Castiel’s ear before kissing his cheeks softly, his taste salty with tears. “But I can give you this.” Castiel blinked tear-wet eyes at him, the hope on his face battling with the pained grimace he wore. “What is this one for?” “This is for remembrance.” Before Castiel could reply, he faded away. Distantly, he felt Dean’s rough hands sliding through the blue blinking lights he’d become. With a few more languid flashes, he disappeared.

There once was a man who feared death. He feared it, like any normal human would, because it was unknown to him. Everyday he would get up for work and head out of the dreary, foggy city and walk to the office building next to his apartment. The freezing cold always reminded him of death, of how sudden or slow it could happen. Someone could freeze to death on these streets and no one would ever know. One day, he decided to take a different path than usual. He walked past a graveyard, previously unknown to him. He feared death because he didn’t understand it, but when he saw the poppy stalk peeking over the cemetery gates, he remembered. As if in a movie, the man experienced the shock of several lifetimes of memories dumped onto him. When it was over, the only word he could say was “Dean”. It was wild, breathless, and exquisite. He remembered him, he knew Death. And he would never forget him again. Over the years Castiel had many offers for long-term relationships or even sexual gratification but the man rejected all of them. None of them could fill the void in his heart, only Death would satisfy him. And wasn’t that a peculiar thought? Most people wouldn’t welcome death. In Castiel’s eyes, death was cold but it was also salvation and always cleansed him of his sins from past lives. Years later, when Death came for Castiel, the man welcomed him with open arms. It had been a long and tiring wait, but he was finally home.

“Cas.” Dean smiled, opening his arms as Castiel briskly walked over and hugged the man tightly. Dean wrapped his arms around him, practically cocooning him in his ceremonial robes. “Dean.” Castiel’s voice was rough, desperate, as he tried to press himself as close to the god as he could. “I’ve missed you.” Dean hugged him tighter, comforting Castiel by dragging a hand through his hair. “It was a long wait.” Dean pulled back, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of Castiel’s nose, the man sighing and eyelashes fluttering gently shut as he basked in the love he felt from Dean. “I’m glad you’re here now.” As usual, Dean held onto Castiel’s hand and pulled him over so they could sit on the floor, leaning against the rock. Castiel snuggled in close with a head resting on Dean’s shoulder and Dean’s arm around him, quietly immersing himself in the presence of the man he loved. “At first I was happy to remember you but…” Castiel thought back of all those days he lived, painstakingly going through the motions of life. Life no longer had any appeal to him, not when Death was all he wanted. Just remembering that empty life he lived made him wince. “It wasn’t fun, knowing what I was missing.” Dean tensed at that, carefully pulling Castiel’s head back with a hand and tilting his head up, staring into his pained blue eyes with concern. “The blessing I gave you was permanent, meant to last through all your lifetimes. But…” Dean hesitated, searching Castiel’s eyes as he spoke. “if it’s too much I can take it away.” “No!” Castiel immediately protested, holding onto Dean’s wrist and pulling the man until he was nestled in a fierce hug. Dean’s hair tickled his nose, as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, his fists twisted into the back of Dean’s robes. “I would rather remember you than suffer a life without memories of us together.” Dean softened, pressing kisses and teasing bites onto Castiel’s exposed neck. “Maybe it’s selfish of me...but I’m glad.” Dean never claimed to be a kind god. He was someone who persisted and fought for what he wanted, and in the many years of his dull existence as Death, he’s never wanted someone as much as Castiel. They sat there, chatting and catching up, holding hands tightly and trying to spend as much time together as they could. Dean triumphantly spoke of the advancements of machinery, his excitement palpable as he gestured. He teased Castiel, saying that his early fascination in human transportation weren’t in vain, and that he “totally predicted this, Cas”. Castiel just rolled his eyes, fond and happy to just bask in Dean’s presence. It wasn’t until he felt the pull of life that he stood up abruptly, smile dropping. “I have to…” Castiel stumbled, his feet moving forward jerkily. Dean’s gaze was subdued as he stood up as well. They stared at each other for a long moment, just drinking in the person they loved. Dean’s eyes glowed a beautiful green, and Castiel feverently wished he could stay by this man’s side for all eternity. “Is it time?” “Yes. I don’t-” Castiel bared his teeth and let out a frustrated snarl. Hugging himself tightly, nails digging into his arms, he hung his head low. “I don’t want to leave you again.” “You won’t be. You’ll keep me in your memories.” Dean sighed, the sound full of sadness. “I can’t step foot into the human realm. It’ll shift the balance of the universe.” Castiel didn’t speak, eyes glazed as he slowly started drifting into nothingness. “I’ll be here when you come back to me.” With that, Castiel burst into a startingly bright mass of orbs, the color of his soul bright and pulsing. They swirled for a bit, reluctant to leave, before the pull was too much and they flew to their next lives. Dean stood, alone in the field of poppies as he stared into the sky. He let out a slow breath, closing his eyes against the longing he could already feel. Tipping his head back, basking in the subtle glow of the moon, he breathed out. “Until we meet again.”

There once was a man who feared Death. It was a stubborn fear, one borne of increasing restlessness and the aching in his heart. The poppy was always the trigger, and a part of him both dreaded and anticipated the flood of memories. He lived most of his life unaware of the weight of his love, oblivious and blissfully human. Then, when his memories returned, he always felt lost. He wasn’t sure if this was how love was supposed to make him feel. Love was a happy feeling, one of joy, yet all he felt was pain. Pain at being separated from Death, pain at knowing he would have to live years alone. He feared the power Death held over his heart. It was maybe irrational, but it was the only way he could stay sane. He’s feared death for so long, that even when he loved Death, he hated him. It was a bizarre oxymoron and a part of Castiel struggled with these feelings. It was too much, too intense. He loved him so much and slowly, he could feel it consuming him. There were some days he felt hollowed out, as if the only thing in his mind and soul was Death. That was why, when he crossed the street and he saw the car rushing towards him, it wasn’t much of a surprise that all he did was stand there and close his eyes. Just like that, it was over. And he had nothing to fear anymore.

“Dean,” Castiel breathed out, stepping forward to embrace the man but stopping almost immediately. He tilted his head in confusion, the happy reunion pushed to the back of his mind as he traced his eyes over Dean’s body. “What is that?” Dean looked down at himself, grinning and doing a slow spin around to show Castiel his new clothes. “I thought I should get with the times, as kids say these days. Besides, these clothes are way comfier than those stupid robes I had before.” Castiel squinted, walking closer and tugging at the plaid long sleeve Dean wore and shamelessly groping his ass in those jeans. “Hm, you look like a lumberjack.” Dean rolled his eyes, grinning as he kissed Castiel lightly. “You still love me.” “Unfortunately.” Castiel replied with fake distaste in his voice, though his smile and the crinkles around his eyes told a different story. Dean let out a hearty laugh, hugging Castiel tightly before pulling them to their customary spot. “So tell me what you’ve been up to.” “Well, this time I was a scientist and…” When it was time for Castiel to leave, he felt a little more settled. Seeing Dean had helped suppress his manic desperation to see the man, but he felt it clawing at his throat and he knew, he wouldn’t have the strength to resist it.

There once was a man who loved Death. He loved him so much. He met with him after every ended life, the smiles hiding his pain and the slow unraveling in his mind as the insanity sunk in. He remembered everything. He remembered how the first time he let the car take him and the next, he was holding a shard of glass. The man had been in the restroom, having a near panic attack as tears welled in his eyes. It wasn’t fair. The man yelled out, this mental breakdown many lifetimes in the making. Other people could have the person they loved but he couldn’t be with Death no matter how hard he tried. It was with a swirling vortex of negative emotions that he destroyed his mirror, smashing his fist into it. There was red. The man noted distantly, his gasps settling as he focused on the blood. It reminded him so much of Dean, of those beloved poppies of his. He wanted to see more. Grabbing a shard of glass, he carefully and almost mechanically cut into his arm, gasping in delight when the pain hit him. It was then, holding the bloodied shard of glass in his hands, staring into the shattered mirror that reflected his fractured self, that he realized he hadn’t been trying hard enough. Of course! Why didn’t he think of it? There was only one way to reunite with Death. And that was to die. With that last thought in mind, Castiel pressed the shard of glass to his neck, and closed his eyes.

“Dean,” Castiel grinned, the phantom feeling of blood in his teeth still plaguing him. “Dean.” Castiel reached out, almost stumbling into his arms as the god quickly jumped down from the rock and caught him. “Woah Cas,” Dean sounded concerned, his face dark as he looked over him. “Are you alright? You’re not supposed to be here yet.” Castiel could sense his confusion, his worry, and it made him warm again. He’d felt so cold for so long, it was comforting being in Death’s embrace. “I’m fine Dean, just a freak accident.” Dean paused, and Castiel could feel the man weighing his words, eventually Dean seemed to accept them at face value and relaxed. Dean still seemed slightly suspicious, but Castiel smiled at him and it loosened the frown Dean was wearing. He knew the only reason Dean wasn’t interrogating him was because he had missed him too. They had so little time together that wasting it on arguing was counterintuitive. “Okay. But be more careful next time. I don’t want you hurt.” “Of course.” Castiel lied, his sigh audibly blissed out as he sat with Dean. Closing his eyes, he thought to himself that as long as he could be with Dean like this, he would pay any price. His neck still felt slightly warm, the imagined imprint of his hot lifeblood spilling out still haunting him. He was content to listen to Dean ramble about the wayward souls he’d met over the years, and when it was time for him to leave, he left more willingly. After all, it wouldn’t be long before he could see Dean again.

There once was a man who loved Death. There were many ways he tried to meet with him. Blades, they were sharp but the man wasn’t too fond of slicing his own skin. He’d tried bullets, those were quick but the lingering taste of gunmetal when he went to meet Dean wasn’t very fun. Acid was just slow and painful. Drowning made him feel wet while he was talking with Dean, and Death had definitely noticed his uncomfortable shifting. He couldn’t let Dean find out, anything too suspicious would have to be ruled out. Finally, after many lifetimes, he decided that pills were the best option. Usually he fell into a dreamless sleep and when he woke up Death was there to meet him. It was a win-win situation and he felt proud that he’d found this solution. Still, the more often he visited, and the quicker he found his way to Death, he could feel Dean slowly closing up. These days, Death sat in pensive silence with him, his grip tight on Castiel’s body but his eyes distant and worried. Castiel was scared that maybe Dean was getting tired of him but the man had reassured him with kisses. Castiel could feel himself shaking in fear, he can’t lose Dean. He just can’t. It would destroy him. Dean hugged him tighter these days, trying to soothe him in his own way. He liked to talk about the future, of maybe making a house here in the field so that they’d have a home of their own whenever they were together. It made Castiel happy, knowing that Dean was as invested in their relationship as he was. They loved each other and that was all Castiel needed.

“What would you like our house to look like?” Dean commented idly as they laid in the poppies next to each other, staring up into the starry sky. Dean had his head resting on Castiel’s shoulder, the man humming as he stroked his hand over Dean’s arm. The touch was light and he knew Dean liked being pet like this. He shuddered at the sensation and snuggled closer to Castiel, if that was even possible. Dean was almost laying on top of the human. “Hm?” Castiel finally responded, distracted by the way the moon seemed to periodically pulse with light. The scent of poppies was in the air, and he took a deep breath, enjoying the way the smell reminded him of Dean. “I believe something small would be satisfactory. Just enough space for the two of us.” “Mm.” Dean mumbled, sighing as he gave up any pretense of stargazing and instead bit at Castiel’s chest. He always seemed to be very determined to leave possessive marks all over Castiel, even though it was literally impossible since Castiel’s current “physical” form was incorporeal. The only reason Dean could even touch what was basically the embodiment of his soul was because he was Death. Souls were his domain. “I want to cook for you. I’ve always envied humans and their burgers. I think it’d be nice to try it.” Castiel let out a chuckle of amusement, the deep rumble of his voice resonating where Dean rested his head. “I wasn’t aware you could consume food.” Dean shrugged, his movement hindered by Castiel’s hold on him. “There’s a first time for everything.” Dean rolled himself until he was pinning Castiel under him, his grin wide and playful, though his eyes were dark with want. “And I want to experience all the firsts with you.” Castiel smiled, slowly raising a hand up to brush the back of his hand over Dean’s cheek. His hair was messed up from all the rolling around they’d done in the poppies, play fighting and shoving at each other before tiring themselves out. Dean was almost ethereal in the moonlight, the shadows cast over his face highlighted his features. Castiel pulled him down with a hand to the back of his neck, devouring his mouth. He relished the moans that Dean let out, panting into the kiss. When he finally separated them, nestling Dean’s face into his neck, he grinned. “I look forward to it.”

There once was a man who loved Death. He was almost thirty when he saw his first poppies, a fleeting glimpse at a flower shop he’d been driving past. When he remembered him, those freckles that seemed so prominent under the light of the moon, the way his grin felt pressed against his neck, the man ran to the pharmacy. He bought the pills he wanted, even through his increasingly short lifetimes, he preferred a specific brand of sleeping pills that worked the best. Back home, he didn’t hesitate. Washing his face in the bathroom sink, he looked at the image reflected in his mirror, at his sunken cheeks and the bags under his eyes. This life hadn’t been kind to him. He would be glad when it was over. Opening the bottle he quickly swallowed as many as he could. Staggering back to his bed, he collapsed onto it. He smiled and waited for the medication to pull him into a dreamless slumber and into the arms of Death. Except, this time, as he felt death taking over him, he swore he saw Dean’s horrified face in his mind. In the fuzzy stages between death and dreams, he saw the way Dean cried out, his name shaky on his lips. “Castiel, why?” Then, he let Death take him.

Castiel woke up sluggishly, the side effects of the way he died. It took him a minute but eventually he pushed himself up. He blinked a few times, frowning as the tickle of a recent memory screamed for his attention. He could’ve sworn he saw Dean’s face in his dreams when he took the pills. That didn’t make sense though, Death wasn’t supposed to be able to have access to the mortal realm. Shrugging it off as a rather intense hallucination brought on by the pills, he eagerly stood up and walked aimlessly around Limbo. Usually within the first few seconds, the forest would appear to him, but as he walked nothing happened. Castiel stopped in his tracks, confused. He looked around and saw nothing but foggy white as far as the eye could see. Heart suddenly leaping into overdrive he ran, his feet light as they floated over the floor. “Dean!” Castiel called out, his voice hoarse from disuse. “Dean! Where are you? I’m here!” He called out over and over until he saw the man standing with his back turned, a few feet away. “Dean.” This time, his name was said with relief and Castiel approached Death, arms already held up for a hug. “You scared me, I couldn’t find the forest-” Finally, Dean turned around, his expression flinty and heartbreak in his gaze. “You couldn’t find it because I didn’t want you to.” Castiel froze, slowly lowering his arms as he took in Dean’s tense stance. “I-I don’t understand.” “No, Castiel.” Dean pressed his eyes together tightly, letting out a humorless laugh as he ran a tired hand down his face. He didn’t meet Castiel’s gaze. “You know full well why I’m doing this.” With dawning horror, Castiel took a step back, his eyes darting around nervously. He could feel the imagined cold sweat building up on his back, his body rigid and broadcasting his anxiety. “You saw me.” It was a whisper and though Castiel felt guilty, he wasn’t ashamed of what he’d done. “Yes. I-” Dean stopped, tears gathering in his eyes as he made an aborted movement to touch Castiel. He stopped himself though, as if he couldn’t bear to touch the man. “Why would you do that to yourself?” Castiel let out a harsh laugh, stepping closer to Dean even as the man retreated. “I didn’t do that for myself Dean. I did it for us! I did it so that we could be together.” Even as Castiel spoke he knew that he wasn’t telling the full truth. He knew his actions had been selfish and it had been entirely self serving motivations that made him choose this path. “I didn’t ask you to do that for me Cas!” Dean raised his voice, the first time he’s done so since Castiel met him. It was beginning to dawn on him just how much this was affecting Dean. He had always appeared gruff and teasing at times, but Castiel has never seen him so hurt, and it was all because of his actions. “I didn’t have a choice.” Castiel grit out, eyes glaring and fists clenched. He was hurting. They were both hurting but there was no turning back. “No, you had a choice Cas.” Dean paused, wiping his tears away with rough hands. “You just made the wrong one.” Before Castiel could speak, Dean turned his palm up and slowly, a poppy materialized. It looked so innocent, that flower, but Castiel felt a growing sense of dread within him. “What are you doing?” Castiel stepped back, his fear of Death returning. Dean’s expression was determined, though he was holding back his own pain. “What I need to do.” “Dean, what is that?” Castiel kept stepping back, hands raised up as if trying to defend himself from what was to come. “Please, I promise I’ll stop hurting myself. I won’t do it again.” Dean shook his head, not willing to believe Castiel’s words. “We both know that’s not true. You won’t stop because you believe it is right. You don’t think that what you’re doing is wrong. But it is Cas, you’re hurting yourself and I’m not worth that.” “You’re worth everything,” Castiel insisted, frantic in his need for Dean to see that he would behave himself. There was a part of him that knew Dean was right, that he was never going to stop, not if it meant seeing Dean and without the horrendous wait. “I’m not, Cas. I realize now that our relationship would never have worked.” Dean let a grimace cross his face, the sorrow in his gaze clear. “It’s destroying you Cas, and I can’t let that happen.” “Dean please.” Castiel begged, stopping his retreat because he knew it would be futile. His breathing was speeding up, the panic consuming him. “Please don’t make me forget you.” Dean stopped, tilting his head as a brief look of pity crossed his face. “Oh Cas, that’s not what this is for.” Dean let a self-deprecating smile mar his face, the stretch of it brittle with self hatred. “I’m too selfish for that. I don’t want you to ever forget me and I know-” Dean stopped then, choking up as he clenched the poppy stalk tightly in his hand. He knew that letting Castiel keep the memories of them was cruel, but he couldn’t help it. He’s always been a selfish god. “I know I should just let you go, free you from the memories of us, but I can’t. I want you to at least keep me in your heart.” Now, Castiel was truly terrified, he felt like he was slipping, like Dean was going to leave him forever. There was a certain finality in Dean’s words, as if they’d never meet again. That was absurd, Castiel tried to calm himself. After all, Dean was Death, as long as Castiel died, he would always see Dean. Dean approached him and Castiel tried to run away, tried to resist, but he was held by Dean’s powers. He whimpered when Dean caressed his cheek gently, hating the fact that he leaned into the touch, seeking comfort from the one who was going to hurt him. When Dean slowly slipped the poppy behind his ear, fingers brushing his hair in a loving gesture, Castiel spoke. “What is this one for?” Castiel whispered, terrified of the answer. Dean closed his eyes tightly, the lines of his face taut with heartbreak and pain. It was as Castiel darted his eyes across Dean’s features, ages older from the weight of his love, trying to commit it to memory, that he truly realized Dean was a god. He was Death. It was foolish of Castiel to believe he could ever be with someone this powerful. “This-” Dean finally met Castiel’s eyes, the usual bright green glow dulled to nothingness. His tongue darted out to wet his lips in a nervous gesture as he held Castiel’s cheek in one hand. “This one is for eternal life.” “No.” Castiel breathed out, his breath hitching on a gasp of air as tears fell from his eyes. “No!” Castiel screamed, straining against the invisible hold on him as Dean held him steady with sorrowful eyes. “You can’t do this to me! Please, Dean. I love you.” Castiel sobbed, the sounds wrenched out of him and his chest heaving. Eventually he looked up, eyes meeting Dean’s, both of them trying to commit the other to memory. It was with a hoarse whisper, broken and defeated that he asked the question. “How am I supposed to live without you?” Dean’s haunted gaze brimmed with renewed tears as he pressed a shaky kiss to Castiel’s lips, the taste of them salty from the tears of their shared grief. “That’s the point Castiel. Without me, you’ll live.” With those last words, Dean faded away, Castiel screaming frantically for Dean to come back, to spare him, to love him. Screaming and crying, he fell to his knees as the hold that Death had on him disappeared with Dean, the weight of his heartbreak too much to bear. The only word he could repeat was “No.” the cadence of it frantic and disbelieving. Eventually, his tears ran out, and he knelt there, head bowed and motionless as he waited for the pull of his next life to make him feel alive again.

There once was a man who loved Death.

When Castiel first saw the poppies on a painting he passed by, the wave of memories brought him to his knees. The first thing he did was run home and grab the knife on his kitchen counter. He had to try. When he pressed the blade to his own skin, it sliced deep. Castiel breathed a sigh of relief, grinning at the sight of blood. Then, before his horrified eyes, the wound knitted itself together and healed. He didn’t remember much of what he did after that. All he knew was that his apartment looked like a murder scene and he was covered in his own blood but still alive through it all. He cleaned himself up and resolved to try again. The next day, he kills himself again. Death doesn’t come. He tries, again and again, sobbing into his bloodied skin as he cried out. “You promised Dean! You promised me that I was yours forever.” It was then that he understood the true price of immortality, the forever that most humans sought was his but at the cost of losing his heart and the only one he loved. He took the pills, praying to a god he didn’t believe in for it to work. The next day- The next day… Castiel lived.

There were legends, fables of Death and his lover. It was a story of the mutual love between Death and a mortal, a love so deep that it lasted many lifetimes. People would whisper, voices hushed and reverent even as they told this tragic tale. “There once was a man whom Death loved. This is a story of how Death's love for a mortal gave him immortality but in doing so they would never be able to truly meet. This is the legend of the first Immortal, and the last.” fin

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