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lightforthedeadvine · 4 years

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Title: How to Fall in Love When You’re Dead (A guide by Dean Winchester)

Author: @lightforthedeadvine – Anwamane_13 on AO3

Written for: @localwhiskeylez

Gift Exchange: @destielsecretsanta2020

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Castiel/ Dean Winchester

Word count: 11.905

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

AN: Wow, I can't believe it's done! I really hope you like it, @localwhiskeylez! Sorry for any typos, English is not my first language. Merry Christmas!

How to Fall in Love When You’re Dead (A guide by Dean Winchester)

How Dean Winchester realizes that the love of his life is his best friend and, being the moron that he is, it only happens after he's already dead.

INTRODUCTION

This article seeks to help the reader to solve unfinished business during their life on Earth. It is an observational interventionist study, based on the author's life. Some angels and demons were injured during the execution of the study, but the fact only serves as a background to illustrate the situations in which the author found himself and are important for the understanding of the facts.

1- When you’re still alive, be emotionally constipated.

Cas dies and Dean can’t get up, can’t look anywhere except at his wings, frail and broken shadows engraved on the ground. This is it. This time Cas’ death is for good. Dean isn’t ready for this, he can’t deal with this, he needs to get up and pretend he’s not there, kneeling on the ground next to his best friend’s body. His mind is empty and too full at the same time.

The thing is, Cas has died before, but Dean had never been left with his body to deal with. It makes his death more real somehow. So, he wraps the body with the old curtains, and he refuses Sam’s help. He doesn’t need anyone right now. They burn Cas, a hunter’s funeral. Dean listens to Sam trying to explain to a confused Jack that it’s time to say goodbye, but he can’t say anything. The flames are high and Dean can’t stop thinking that Cas deserved so much better than this. In the back of his mind there’s something he should have done, something he should have said, some way he could have showed Cas how appreciated he was. But Dean is not sure what it is, and he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to feel anything, or rather, he can’t look at what he’s feeling too closely, or he’ll lose it.

Later, he loses it in booze, he punches the door until his knuckles bleed, he hates everything, he yells at Sam, he wishes he’d had kept Cas’ coat, so he could keep it in the Impala’s trunk, like before. He’s not sad, he’s furious. Stupid angel, getting himself killed like that. Stupid, stupid angel. Sam, the giant girl that he is, wants to talk, but Dean snorts and refuses to acknowledge anything that resembles a chick flick moment.

He doesn’t cry.

2- When someone tells you he loves you, don’t say anything.

“I love you”, Cas says, and he puts his bloodied hand on Dean’s shoulder. He pushes Dean to the floor, and when the Empty comes, Cas has a slight smile on his lips. He looks… in peace, almost. Angelic. And then he’s gone.

Dean thinks “why didn’t he tell me about the deal” and “this can’t be real” and “I need him to come back”. He looks at the wall and there’s nothing there indicating that his friend, the best friend one could ever have, just vanished through it.

Dean’s mind is running so fast he can barely keep up with it. Cas’ ‘I love you’ keeps ringing in his ears, playing in the back of his head, like a broken record. Dean is astonished. He had no idea. He didn’t know. He feels that this ‘I love you’ was very different from the ‘I love you, all of you’ Cas said when Crowley saved him from dying poisoned, with Dean, Sam and Mary not knowing what to do, how to stop Cas‘ death. Dean knows Cas meant a whole different thing this time; he could see it in Cas’ eyes. This time Cas meant the love kind of love. Dean had no idea an angel could even feel this kind of love. But if he knew, would it have changed anything? It’s not as if Dean would say it back, it’s not as if he deserves this love, an angel’s love. For fuck’s sake, it’s ludicrous.

Dean said nothing, he just kept shaking his head no and saying dumb things like ‘what are you talking about’ and ‘don’t do this’. He said nothing meaningful in Cas’ last moments, nothing his best friend could take with him to the Empty to justify the sacrifice he was making. He wonders if Cas thought he didn’t care, but probably not, because the stupid angel has always seen the best in him; something Dean is not even sure it’s there.

Cas said he loved Dean. And Dean didn’t say anything. He has no idea what he could have said, but he should have said something. Anything. Cas gave his life to save Dean’s, and Dean just stood there; just let him go.

His cell phone rings but Dean has no idea how to answer it. He looks at the wall again. He can’t speak right now, he’s not even worthy of speaking right now. Dean puts his hands on his head, cover his eyes, tries to leave the world outside for a while longer. His head, his heart, his whole being hurts.

This time he cries. This time Dean sobs.

3- After losing someone you care about, live the rest of your life pretending you’re ok with it.

Miracle jumps on the bed and Dean holds his dog close for a while, taking comfort from his furry best friend. They grew very attached to each other, and so far, no one has come to claim the dog, so Dean is confident he’ll be able to keep it for good. He gets up, getting ready for another day of Sam making breakfast, going for a run, maybe calling Eileen or Jody and Donna. Dean will walk Miracle, maybe. Watch old reruns, make pancakes, even though Sam will complain one shouldn’t eat breakfast food for lunch, and have a tasteless salad, as always. Dean doesn’t care, Miracle will help him with the stack of pancakes. He still needs to finish filling the job application on his desk, but he’s not in a hurry. He has all the time in the world, right? No one is controlling them now, and Jack sounded like he’d let things run free.

When Sam mentions Jack and Cas, Dean says they should keep on living, because that’s what Jack and Cas would want them to do. The truth is, he doesn’t want to talk about it, so he shoves a huge piece of pie into his mouth. He knows Jack is around, in every drop of rain and every wind, and inside and out of the bunker, like he said… but Dean’s almost sure they’re never gonna see him again, and he misses the kid. As for Cas… Dean has no idea what the Empty’s like, but an eternity of nothing sounds like an endless punishment worse than hell, and once again, he can’t help thinking that Cas deserved better. Before he can think how much he misses his best friend, he decides to focus on anything other than the dull ache inside him every time he thinks of Cas’ sacrifice. Cas died so they could live, and they’re gonna live, dammit.

Sam pushes pie into Dean’s face and hearing his laugh makes Dean think that everything is gonna be alright, eventually. His baby brother’s laugh is one of the things that keeps him going these days. He’s grateful for that. Content, if not happy.

4- A crucial point for doing something after being dead is dying. So… die.

This one is hard to explain.

Dean doesn’t want to die. But as it is, death comes in the most stupid way possible, and he doesn’t want to fight anymore. He’s tired. He doesn’t want Sam to call an ambulance, because it’s not gonna work and he doesn’t want the kid to get his hopes up. The rusty thing inside his lungs hurt like a motherfucker, it’s getting hart to breathe and his mind is fuzzy.

Sammy, he thinks. Sammy’s the most important thing here. Dean needs to tell his little brother how much he loves him, because he knows he hasn’t said it enough. He needs Sam to know he’s always been the most important thing in his life, ever since John put baby Sam in his arms inside a burning house and told Dean to protect him. He needs Sam to know that Dean doesn’t regret being Sam’s mother, father, old brother and friend; he doesn’t regret not having a childhood because he knows, he knows, he gave Sam one; at least the best he could. Dean needs Sam to tell him he’ll be alright; that Dean can go in peace; that Sam will get a life for himself after this.

4.1 - Ignore any mention of your best friend and give only a small smile when being told he’s not in the Empty anymore;

‘Cas helped’, Bobby says. Jack made this incredible Heaven for everyone and Cas helped. Bobby arches one eyebrow when he mentions Cas, and Dean pretends he doesn’t notice. He smiles slightly, comforted by the fact that his friend is not in the Empty anymore. He hoped, no, he knew Jack would set his chosen father free, but somehow, he never asked him. He doesn’t know why. He could say he was in some kind of daze, caused by the shock of everything that had just happened, but… it’s not an excuse; he should have asked Jack about Cas, and he didn’t. Sometimes Dean is really stupid.

4.2 - Spend forty something years driving and waiting for your brother to join you in the afterlife.

Suddenly, Baby is there.

Although time moves different in Heaven, it’s a bit, well, a lot strange that right at the end of the long road, probably the Axis Mundi, Sam is there in the fucking bridge, as if he’d been waiting for Dean. Has Dean just spent forty years driving? Really? What about Mom and Dad? Why didn’t Dean go see them? What about Ellen and Jo, probably right there inside the Roadhouse, where Bobby was… why didn’t Dean get inside? What about Cas? Isn’t it strange that Cas wasn’t there to welcome him to the afterlife? And… Dean didn’t do anything except wait for his brother for four decades? This is surreal.

The happiness he fells when he hears Sam’s voice, though, is indescribable. Somehow, he knows time has passed and Sam had a life, a fucking normal apple pie life, and Dean is so, so grateful his brother got to have that. As for him, he can finally stop worrying about the kid. Sam has always been Dean’s everything, and now it’s as if… his work is done.

“Eileen and I… it didn’t work; she… was traumatized, I guess. Being around a Winchester was more dangerous than any monster,” Sam says when they’re in the car, returning home, wherever the heck ‘home’ is. “And Dean’s mother… she got pregnant; we hadn’t planned anything. She, um… didn’t know I was a hunter, so I kind of… I retired, started working as a paralegal. But we were too different, it didn’t work anyway, and she left when Dean was fifteen.”

“Dude, you named your kid after me?” Dean is all smiles.

“Dean Robert Winchester,” Sam says, proudly. “A great kid. Preferred his ink on his right arm.”

“You didn’t raise him as a hunter, did you?”

“Hell no,” Sam snorts, “but here and there a hunter came looking for advice, and… the kid was smart, figured there was something strange going on. And on his sixteenth birthday a shapeshifter moved to our backyard, so…”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“What about the bunker?” Dean wants to know. If Sam worked in a law firm, what happened to the bunker?

Sam suddenly looks uncomfortable. “I, um… I gave it to Jody, Donna and the girls. They did a great job over the years, built a really big net, organized the branches… Claire and Kaia, they’re, like, top hunters in the country now.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Dude, that’s great, but…”

“I couldn’t do it, Dean,” Sam says in a hurry, earnest. “It wasn’t the same without you. There was no one else. I was alone, and I… I just couldn’t.”

Dean pretends he doesn’t feel a pang in his chest at hearing how bad it was for Sam. But hey, heaven or not, he’s not gonna start a sharing and caring scene with Sam now, right? “What about Miracle?”

“Lived for twelve years more, was Dean’s best friend.”

“Dude, I’m never gonna get used to this. You named your kid after me. Wow, I mean… I know I’m important, but… didn’t know you couldn’t live without a Dean in your life,” Dean jokes.

But Sam is serious. “I really couldn’t.”

“No chick flick moments, Samantha,” Dean tries to lighten the mood, because, shit. He expected Sam to miss him, of course… but not like this.

Sam appears to take the bait. “Jerk.”

Dean laughs. “Bitch.”

5- In Heaven, pretend you’re not looking for your Angel best friend.

Mary and John live not far from the Roadhouse, just like Bobby said. Their house is a replica of the Lawrence house, the one that caught fire. Dean thinks it’s creepy that Mary ends up living in the same house in which she died, but hey, she seems happy. They both do.

“So, dad, how did you get this house? Not that I remember much of it, but me and Dean, we went back there for a case,” Sam asks, eyeing Mary, because well, she was the ghost that lived there. She just smiles quietly at him. “From what I can see, it seems just like the old one.”

John looks different. At peace. The lines on his face seem softer, leaving him with a younger appearance. Mary’s presence did this, Dean can’t help thinking. Having a forever with the love of your life can do this to a person. Not that Dean knows from experience since he’s never had a… never mind. Lisa was never the love of his life, and Dean doesn’t want to think about her; still hurts.

His father’s eyes radiate happiness. It’s a bit strange, in a good way. “We were together in our private heaven,” he tells. “But I confess, it was a little boring, because it never changed. Then they came,” he shrugs, “and everything changed.”

“They?” Dean asks.

Mary smiles. “Mostly, Jack. He came and… we had a serious talk. It was never his fault, how I came here. He was distressed, and I pushed too hard.” She holds John’s hand. “Jack said we shouldn’t be separated from the ones we loved, because there is space for everyone. So he opened all the doors, fixed all the bridges, and suddenly our friends, family… they were all there. We started to build a heaven where we could all live together…”

“And Cas suggested it would be a good idea if we lived in our old house,” John finishes. “He built this for us exactly as we remembered it.”

Dean arches his eyebrows. Cas? Since when is his father on a nickname basis with Cas? “You know him? Cas?” he can’t help asking.

“Of course he knows Cas,” Mary laughs. “he’s Jack’s right arm. Everyone knows him.”

“And where is he?” Dean asks.

Mary shrugs. “Around,” she says enigmatically.

Okay. Dean frowns a little. A guy dies and his best friend doesn’t come to greet him? Then he changes the subject, because really? Not a pleasant thing to think about.

-------

Ellen and Jo are still in the Roadhouse by the time Dean gets back there. Sam stayed behind with their parents. But Dean suddenly needs to see everything and everyone. As if he has already lost too much time. And, maybe he has, driving through the Axis Mundi, waiting for Sam. But hey, now he has all of eternity, right?

“So, how does it work? This heaven?” he asks, while Ellen pours him a one more shot of Johnny Walker.

“We just… live. We do what we want and see who we want. When Cas built this place for us, ‘cause I said I preferred to work; you know me, I’m no woman to sit still… anyways, he said that the things we’ve always wanted to do, but it was never the right time…”

“Or…” Jo smiles, standing beside her mother, “we were always busy killing the next monster… well, these things, we could do them all now, you know? And… it’s freeing, really.”

“Cas built this place” Dean repeats like a parrot, not really paying attention to what they’re saying. “You mean my friend, Cas.”

Ellen raises her eyebrows. “Do you know any other Cas?”

“Nope.”

It’s annoying, really. Cas built the Roadhouse for Ellen and Jo? That’s great, they more than deserve it, but… he didn’t take the time to see Dean when he arrived?

------

Things are starting to get ridiculous.

Dean has visited and met a lot of people since he arrived. And apparently, since Jack decided to rebuild heaven, Cas has:

a) Built a house for Bobby and Karen, and the woman was delighted by his manners. Such a handsome and polite ‘boy’.

b) Found Charlie’s mother, Gertrude Middleton, they had a teary and wonderful reunion and now they live together by the mountains, where the internet (in Heaven? Huh…) is better than any other place on Earth.

c) Rescued Kevin from ghost-life. The boy spends his days playing cello and going on dates with Channing. Linda Tran is around too.

d) Eileen died on a hunt a few years after Dean. Cas found her parents and she finally found her happy ever after with them.

e) Gave back Pamela’s eyes, and the psychic went traveling around the heaven-world, eager to seeeverything.

So, it’s Cas this, Cas that, blah blah blah. Dean is getting annoyed.

Oh! On top of that, Kelly Kline apparently sees him a lot. In fact, she sees him more than she sees her own son, since Jack is always busy being the almighty and all. How does Dean know? He finds Kelly by chance while walking around, and as soon as she greets him, she asks “Have you seen Castiel yet?” with a knowing smile. He hasn’t, of course. And then she wastes no time telling him how wonderful Cas is for helping Jack with the heaven thing, since her son is young and has a lot to do. Apparently, Cas and Kelly spend a lot of time together, talking. Dean changes the subject and leaves as soon as he can. He is not jealous, of course. Of course not.

Dean is not only annoyed now. He’s a little hurt. As if his friendship didn’t really mean anything for the angel. Part of him thinks it’s stupid, because Cas loves him, he said so, didn’t he? But his absence is telling. Somehow, Dean knows Cas doesn’t want to see him. He just knows.

6- When you see him, try to talk about the elephant in the room, even if he clearly doesn’t want to.

It’s a bit strange, this heaven Jack has created. Because now time seems linear, and Dean has no idea how this happened, since it went by so fast before Sam arrived. But now there are days and nights and an endless string of people Dean wants to see and spend time with. So much, that he has no idea where he’s supposed to live, but he doesn’t ask anyone. He sleeps at his parent’s house, or Charlie’s place, or at Bobby’s. It’s a wonder he sleeps at all, because he really doesn’t need it; he’s dead, they all are. But they eat and drink and sleep, and they have long, long talks, like a never-ending party with all the burgers, pies and beer Dean could ever want.

It’s great.

Also, it feels a little bit… empty.

So, Christmas comes. Apparently, this is a special time in heaven too. There’s a party at the park and Dean finds himself in charge of the cheeseburgers. He’s there, by the grill, flipping the patties and making sure they don’t burn. Then Dean sees him.

He’s standing by the lake. Different clothes, the dark jeans and blue t-shirt look so unusual for him, but Dean would recognize that head of dark hair anywhere. Cas is not looking at him, he’s talking to a couple, an open smile on his face, so different from the burdened expression he always wore. Dean forgets about the grill and everything else. He just walks towards him, his heart thundering in his chest and a million questions in his head.

“Cas!” he calls before he reaches him, arms opening to hug him, and Cas turn his head, his very blue eyes wide and …

Oh.

There’s no immediate recognition in those eyes.

It’s not Cas. It’s Jimmy Novak.

Dean’s arms fall. “Jimmy,” he says, just to make sure. He deflates like an empty balloon.

“You’re… Dean, right?” Jimmy says, and shit, Dean should have never had mistaken him with Cas. His eyes are exactly the same, but Cas’ eyes sparkle when they look at Dean, and Jimmy’s just… don’t. And the voice, there’s no way this… generic, normal voice could ever belong to Cas. Even his relaxed posture is completely different than Cas’.

“Yeah. Dean Winchester,” he says, because now he has to make small talk with the guy, and he really, really doesn’t want to. His chest gives a funny pang looking at him, and Dean thinks of Claire, for the first time really understanding what she went through whenever she looked at Cas and thought of her father. Dean is looking at one, wanting to see the other, because they look the same but they’re so, so different, and it’s just...disappointing doesn’t even get close.

“It’s good to see you, Dean,” Jimmy says solemnly. “Is your brother well?”

“Yeah, he’s… around.” Dean says, looking around, already knowing he won’t find Sam here, because his brother found Bobby’s library and, the big nerd he is, he must be reading somewhere, even though they don’t hunt anymore. “But there’s so much lore here, Dean!” he’s said, eyes sparkling.

“That’s great,” Jimmy says, and then he frowns a little. “Where’s Castiel?”

“How the hell will I know?” Dean lets out, the he looks at Jimmy apologetically. “Haven’t seen him.”

Now Jimmy looks a bit uncomfortable. “Oh, I’ve just put my foot in my mouth. It’s just that – that Castiel was always thinking about you when we were sharing my – my -” he gestures at himself.

They’re both saved by a burning smell.

“The burgers are burning, you idjit!” Bobby screams from somewhere, and Dean just looks at Jimmy, gives him a yellow half-smile and leaves, relieved. He never loved the smell of burning burgers so much.

----

It’s late, everyone has gone home. Dean doesn’t have a home to go to, and he really doesn’t care about it right now. He’d be there alone, anyway. He has no idea how much time has passed since he came here, and it’s a bit disorienting. He’s sitting by the pond, where he saw Jimmy earlier. He’d be drinking right now, if he thought it would help him forget. Can you get drunk when you’re dead?

He’s not an ungrateful bastard. He knows he’s in heaven, and it’s – it’s just great, something he’d never thought he’d have. And wow, his family and dearest friends are here with him, and things couldn’t be better. He’s grateful for everything, and if Jack were here, he’d hug the hell out of the kid. Um… deity. Almighty. Whatever. Still, he’s one third Dean’s son, so he’ll call him kid if he wants to.

The thing is, somehow, he wants more. More than eternal happiness, and he feels a bastard for not being satisfied with eternal bliss. But he misses having something to worry about. He misses the bunker. Shit, he even misses hunting, even though thinking about his last hunt gives him chills. But most of all, he misses having Sam, Jack and Cas by his side, the four of them against the world. He misses Cas’ eyerolls, his deadpan lines, his lack of notion about personal space. His hand on Dean’s shoulder, eyes solemn, glistening –

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Before he knows it, Dean is half-keeling on the grass. “Cas, buddy, you got your ears on?” he prays, like he did so many times before. “I – I hope you can hear me, that you’re alright, that you’re happy now that you’re back home.” He sighs. He has no idea what to say. “I never thought I’d get a chance to pray to you again, but here I am.” Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to go on. “I miss you, man. And – and I know you’re avoiding me… I mean, I know I was a dick to you for so long that maybe – maybe you don’t wanna see me? You could… at least come and say goodbye, you know? I hear you see and help everyone and you never, never come to see me. And I have no idea why.”

A bark makes him look around, and suddenly a light brown, furry dog jumps on his arms. He half-falls sitting on the grass while he hugs his companion from long ago. “Miracle!” he greets the dog, and his heart feels lighter already just for seeing him.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turns his head so fast his neck hurts a little. “Cas,” he breathes. “You’re here.”

“Yes, um…” Cas gestures at Miracle. “I found your dog.” He’s dressed as always, white shirt, black suit, tan trench coat, tie askew. He looks awesome. He’s a few steps away, and he doesn’t come closer. The smile he gives Dean doesn’t exactly reaches his eyes; not that Cas smiled a lot. But he’s looking at Miracle now, like he’s avoiding looking at Dean. ”I hope all is well with you…?” he says lamely.

“All is – “ Dean sputters, disbelieving. “That’s what you have to say?” he closes the distance between them, stopping a few centimeters from Cas. “Where the hell have you been? I arrived here ages ago, and you haven’t come to see me.”

“Bobby was here to greet you.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen Bobby, Mom, Dad, Charlie, Jo, Ellen… even Jimmy freakin’ Novak. Everyone except you.”

Cas opens his mouth and starts to shrug, then aborts the movement, still looking at Miracle, perched on a log. “You don’t need me, Dean. You already have all you wanted. I made sure you have everything you could possibly want; everyone you love is here. Why should I come?”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Dean’s not sure he should be swearing in heaven, but hey, he was brought here like this, so they’ll just have to deal with him this way. “Because we’re friends, asshole!” he says, exasperated. Then, quieter, “because I missed you.”

“It’s not of import, you’re with your loved ones now.” Cas says, awkwardly. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well, and – “

“Stop it, Cas,” Dean says, frowning. This is not how he expected their reunion to be. “What’re you talking about? I missed you man, every minute of every day, and – “

Cas finally looks at Dean, and he looks so sad Dean almost pinches himself to make sure he’s awake. “Jack had just rescued me from the Empty and he asked if I wanted to see you, and – “

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you were brought back and you didn’t come to us?”

“I saw you, Dean. You were happy. Eating pie, laughing with Sam. And I decided to step aside and just let you have the life you deserve. You and your brother together, like it was before heaven and hell came into your lives.”

Dean throws his hands in the air. “You’re an idiot, Cas, come on! Is that why you never came?”

Cas shrugs. “I know we angels gave you a lot of sorrow, and you have no idea how much I regret everything my brethren and my father put you through.”

Dean huffs a breath. “Not your fault.”

“Yes, it was. I was one more pawn in the game at first ,but I became the one closest to you. And every time I tried to do something right, I just brought you more grief,” Cas rambles on, “and if I had just stayed away, maybe things would’ve been easier. All the mistakes I’ve done… all the times I let you down…”

“That’s bullshit, Cas. What the fuck are you talking about? Since when I, we, didn’t want your company?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Dean, I didn’t want to burden you anymore. I thought that… it was better that I stayed gone, and…eventually you and Sam would be alright.

“Oh, that’s so like you, Cas! Deciding things about my so-called wellbeing without telling me! Is this how you show you love me? Staying away?”

Dean’s eyes widen. Where the fuck did that come from? What the hell happened to his tongue?

Cas’ breath hitches and he looks at the ground, and even in the dark Dean can see his cheeks turning pink. Such a human thing…

“Dean,” Cas says, and shakes his head. “Don’t.”

Dean knows what this is about. He feels guilty already, because the last time they saw each other, Cas spilled his heart on the damn floor and Dean just stayed there, looking. “Don’t what, Cas?” he asks softly.

“You don’t have to say anything about… that. I said my piece, I… I spoke my truth. That truth still stands, it will always stand. Part of the reason I said it was because I thought… that I wasn’t coming back. But here I am, and here you are and, and I know how you feel. Rather, I know how you don’t feel. So, you don’t have to say anything, or do anything. It’s okay. Only… it may take some time before I fell less… mortified in your presence.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say. Cas has practically just said that the – the love thing was true. Is true. Well, Dean was the one that started this particular subject, the asshole that he is.

“Cas…” he knows he needs to say something, even if it’s not what Cas maybe would like him to say. “I had no idea you even could feel like that. I’m not, I’m - “

“If you’re going to say you’re not worth it, don’t bother. I stand by what I said, and every word is true. You’re the best human being I have ever known, and I’d like that you at least give me the courtesy of believing in my words.”

Dean is speechless. Once more, Cas is spilling his guts and Dean is silent. He’d kick himself in the ribs if he could. His courage had dropped to the floor somewhere, but he finds it. “Was it my silence that made you leave? That made you do that? ‘Cause if it was, it’s on my top five worst mistakes.”

“It was to save your life. I couldn’t let Billie take you.”

“So you made me watch the Empty take you instead,” Dean deadpans.

“I had to. It was that or letting you die, and I couldn’t let her hurt you and do nothing. I’m expendable, Dean. Always have been. In heaven, on earth. But in that moment, I mattered.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean shakes his head. “You’ve always mattered to me. And coming here and not seeing you? Knowing you were around the whole time? It was a shitty move, Cas.”

Cas opens his mouth to say something, but he suddenly stops. He closes his eyes and frowns, as if hearing something. “I’m needed elsewhere,” he says. “I have to go.”

“What, now?”

“Yes.”

Cas was never a specialist at Goodbyes. Curiously, Goodbye was the last thing he said before he died.

There’s a bright light, a white-blue bright thing that starts on Cas’ eyes and grows, grows until all Dean can see is light. Cas is not there anymore, but there’s a huge beam floating against the night sky. Dean can see the tips of two huge, white wings coming out of the white-blue light. The words “multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent” comes to his mind and he knows that he’s looking at Cas’ true form. Even though it’s probably wise not to look directly at it, Dean can’t turn away and, well, maybe one of the perks of being dead is that he can look all he wants and his eyes are still working. Cas is awesome.

Now Dean is truly speechless. He’s never seen something so wonderful in all his life/death. In awe, he sees Cas going higher and higher, and he murmurs, more to himself, “Don’t take too long to come back, Cas.”

“I won’t,” he kind of knows, halfway between his head and his chest. What he really hears is a high-pitched sound that he knows it’s Cas’ true voice, but now his ears don’t bleed and he can understand what he’s saying. Wow.

The last thing he wonders before Cas goes up so fast that he looks like a comet, disappearing in the starry sky, is how can someone so fucking amazing like that can have such a low opinion of himself.

7- Pretend you’re ok with the fact that you never see him anymore. Eavesdrop every conversation to try to get a clue of his whereabouts.

“There’s some kind of rebellion up north,” Jack says. “Castiel was called to help with it.”

“Why didn’t you go with him?” Sam asks.

They’re in the bunker, of all things. Cas hasn’t come back, but here and there he comes to see Dean in his dreams, and at first Dean thought it was a regular dream, until Cas told him that the bunker was ready, and if he wanted to move there, he could.

And there was a freaking awesome replica of the bunker up the hill; the only home Dean ever remembers besides Baby, minus the dungeons and the endless corridors. But the important parts are there: the war room, the kitchen, bedrooms, library, garage, Dean’s cave. Sam decided to live there with him, and it’s been a week – or is it a month? Hard to keep track of things here – when Jack finally came to visit. He asked for a homemade burger, of all things, Dean’s homemade burger, and before he started, Dean was going to ask him if he wanted chili sauce with it. So, he isn’t eavesdropping, he’s not a gossip kind of guy. But Jack and Sam are talking in the war room, and when he hears Cas’ name, Dean stops before they can see him.

“Because the rebellion is about me, partly, Castiel thinks it’s not wise that I go. I trust his judgement.” Jack says. “Some angels think I’m too young to rule the universe.”

“You are pretty young,” Sam snorts.

“Well, there’s the fact that some of them still resent Castiel because of his past actions. It’s hard to forget he said yes to the devil, and I’m afraid an angel’s memory is endless. Theirs certainly is.”

“He did that so I didn’t have to,” Sam says, regret in his voice.

“Of course he did.” Jack’s voice is laced with amusement. “Everything Castiel did since he rescued Dean from hell was to protect him; then you two; and, in the end, me too. He’s the most human angel I’ve ever known; he has a heart. That’s why my mother chose him to protect me.”

“He wasn’t always like this.”

“Oh, I know, he was a dick, Dean told me. Like all the other angels here. I’m trying to teach them how to think for themselves, but it takes time. And every time a group decides I’m too young to rule, or Castiel is still unreliable, or both, he goes there and tries to convince them to come back.”

There’s silence for a while, and Dean is caught between wanting to step inside or waiting to hear more about Cas.

“I suppose I should be glad,” Jack goes on. “If they decide to go against us, it means they’re starting to understand free will. If Castiel changed, so can they. Although, he’s always had an incentive, which they lack. Anyway, Castiel is good at convincing them; even if he’s my father, he wouldn’t be my commander if he wasn’t a good strategist.”

“Nepotism, huh?”

“Not at all. I offered to turn him into an archangel, since there’s no one left… but he insisted he wanted to remain a seraph. He’s very down to earth, so to speak.”

“Will he be alright?” There’s worry in Sam’s voice. “Won’t they get… I don’t know... violent?”

“Oh, don’t worry. He can handle them. Besides, if they kill him, I’ll just bring him back.”

“What the fuck?” Dean almost yells, finally going inside. “You’re just gonna let him die? What the fuck, Jack? Dying hurts!”

“So, you were eavesdropping, Dean,” Jack laughs. “and yes, I want chili sauce in my burger.”

“You knew I was here?” Dean knows his face must be comically red now, but he doesn’t care.

“I know everything,” Jack simply says, “and Bobby Singer was teaching me about pranks and sarcasm the other day, so I decided to do a little test.”

“With me,” Dean deadpans.

“Yup!” Then Jack says, more serious. “He won’t die here, Dean. I have his back.”

-----

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to embarrass you,” Jack comes to the kitchen when Dean’s doing the dishes, after dinner. Sam is… somewhere under a pile of books, probably.

Dean just shrugs.

“I know you worry about him,” Jack continues, “I worry too. But Castiel is very, very old. And wise. He may not have always known what he was doing in the past, but he knows now. He’s in his element. You should see him in battle,” there’s pride on Jack’s voice. “he’s spectacular.”

Dean thinks of Cas’ true form and the way he gives every bit of his focus in a fight, and well, he has to agree with Jack, Cas fighting in heaven must be something to behold.

“He went furious when he knew you were going to die; he spent ages complaining about how you were supposed to have a long and happy life. And then he built this part of heaven for you himself. But… dying young was always in the cards for you, Dean. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Dean shrugs again. “I’m happy now. And I didn’t want to have gray hair anyway. Been there, done that, didn’t like it.”

“Are you, really?” Jack asks. “Happy?” He looks genuinely worried, like he doesn’t already know the answer.

“If you know everything, smartass, why do you ask?” Since Jack knew about the chili sauce before Dean said anything, it stands to reason that he knows every freaking thing inside Dean’s head, right? “And stop reading my thoughts.”

“So, stop projecting them everywhere,” Jack arches one eyebrow. “You make it really difficult not to listen. And when I ask if you’re happy, it’s not because I want to know. It’s because I want you to know. There’s a lot of things you already know but you don’t realize. Not yet.”

“Like what?” Dean is getting annoyed by this enigmatic version of the kid.

“Oh, you’ll get there,” Jack pats his shoulder solemnly. “You’ll get there. Now, how about getting a job, so you and Sam don’t get too bored?”

-----

The job Jack found them was as “newcomers’ advisors”. Apparently not everyone is okay with dying. Hunters are particularly difficult to come to terms with the idea. So Dean, Sam, Eileen and Bobby help them getting used to it.

Mostly, they talk. They show them the neighborhood, explain how heaven works. Help building their houses, finding their loved ones, keeping track of family that’s still on Earth, things like that. It’s something to do, and Dean’s glad to have this to fill his days. Like Ellen said, he’s a hunter; he can’t stay home and do nothing but an endless string of family and friends’ reunions. The boredom would kill him if he wasn’t already dead.

It’s a good thing Jack has been doing here. Heaven residents are organized in teams and they have work to do. If they want to, of course. No one is obligated to do anything they don’t want to. But there’s still a lot to build in heaven, it’s a huge place after all, so there’s work for everyone. People who’s been dead the longest and lived isolated in the eternal loop of their private heavens, have a little more difficulty adapting to changes; but they have literally all the time in the world. Feeling useful does wonders for Dean. Life goes on as it should. Well, not life, per se, but still a good one.

Cas never comes. He keeps appearing in Dean’s dreams here and there, and they talk about nothing and everything, like they always did. Sometimes, he watches Dean fishing, standing on the pier by his side; other times they just drink beer and talk side by side inside the Impala. Dean misses seeing him in person, though. He can’t exactly feel when Cas touches his shoulder, or when he pats his back. Well, he can, but it’s a muffled sensation somehow, the ghost of a touch.

And it’s not enough.

8- When confronted with the fact that he’s more BAMF that you had realized, pretend you’re neither impressed nor slightly turned on.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says one evening, when he is in Dean’s cave watching Doctor Sexy reruns.

Dean raises his head to look at him and – Whoa!

Cas is in a golden armor, holding a huge sword, expression solemn. He… glows. Like, there are little sparks of light floating around him. And his wings… wow. Huge, beautiful black wings, making him officially the most amazing creature Dean has ever seen.

“Cas!” he says dumbly, and he can’t stop staring. He has the vague notion that he needs to close his mouth, but he’s in too much of an awe to do it.

“I need your help,” is all Cas says, and he puts his hand on Dean’s arm and –

They’re outside, in the bunker’s rooftop, which is an awesome place to be, because Cas built it on a hill, the sky seems so close and you can see the lights of people’s houses down below. It’s almost as if you’re suspended between heaven and Earth.

“You alright?” Dean asks when Cas winces a bit after they land.

“Just a minor scratch.”

“Lemme take a look,” Dean says, his hands already on Cas’ shoulders, looking for a way to take the armor off him.”

“We don’t have time. We need to go to hell.”

Dean blinks. “Come again?”

“Rowena, she sent me a message. Apparently, the rogue group of angels that didn’t want to follow Jack, joined with a group of her demons who were showing… discontentment with her leadership. They’re wreaking havoc down there and Rowena’s having a hard time controlling everything.”

“So heaven will help hell. Huh.”

Cas shakes his head no. “Not heaven. Just me. No other angel would follow me down there. But, as you see, I’m a bit hurt and I can’t go on my own. I was thinking that maybe you and Sam could help me.”

“What about Jack?”

“I can’t contact him now. He’s in the Empty again.”

“Why???”

“We need archangels, Dean. Heaven is too big, and we need someone with power enough to contain everything while others rebuild. I – I can’t do everything alone, and… we need someone with more power, who’s not Jack, in case he needs to be away for a while. And I – I don’t want more power. We already know how I acted when I had more power than I could deal with. More pride than compassion.”

“Come on, Cas, that wasn’t you,” Dean reasons.

Cas gives him a curt and serious nod, like he’s saying, “I don’t agree and I don’t want to go on with this subject.” But what he says is “Jack went there to try to find and rescue Gabriel. He won’t be back anytime soon. Will you help me?”

------

Of course Dean will help him. And so will Sam, Eileen, Bobby, Mary, John, Rufus, Ellen, Jo. Some of them are a bit worried about going to that place – well, it’s hell. But they don’t shy off a good fight, and most were already missing their old hunter’s life, with the absolute lack of things that go bump in the quiet nights around here.

9 - Here is the part where you have an epiphany and see that, even dead, you’re still emotionally constipated, and you fell in love with him.

“Cas, wake up. Please.”

Dean holds Cas’ head between his hands, but the angel’s eyes remain closed. He doesn’t need to breathe, so there’s no way for Dean to be sure he’s alive. Rowena said he is, but still, the lack of movement in unnerving.

“You sure you can’t help him?” he practically roars at her. “Isn’t there anything you can do? What kind of witch are you?”

“The dead kind, dear,” Rowena answers drily. “I still have my powers, but they obviously don’t work here.” She looks around. “I’m amazed I was even allowed to enter this place. It’s… a little on the ordinary side.”

Since there was no one with enough power to open a portal for them, they lay siege in hell the old, fashioned way. Cas knew a backdoor, but it was, of course, guarded. Half the group came in from the front and the other half from behind. A few more hunters, recruited at the last minute, formed a group of twenty something people. Cas, the badass he was, came in from above, breaking everything on his way (“Just as I did when I rescued you, Dean,” he said).

Of course, things went wrong. Of course. None of the hunters died, because first: they were already dead and, second: every single one of them had killed demons before.

The angels were a whole different thing. Sam and Dean went straight for them, no time to waste. Despite their experience in dealing with them, these ones were more than dicks: they were angry dicks. “Winchester,” one of them snarled, as if it was an insult, and their attack was fierce and fast. But Sam and Dean knew a lot of fighting tactics and, little by little, they made their way towards the throne room.

Rowena was nowhere to be seen, but behind a huge, closed metal door, Dean heard her yelling “Take your angel hands off me!”

After a while, the group of hunters dealing with the - now dead - demons joined them and, together, they start getting rid of the angels. Dean didn’t know the repercussions of killing an angel in hell, and frankly, he didn’t care. It was hard to believe the dicks were together with the demons in a plan to restart, once more, the freaking apocalypse. Again. One more time. But it was true, Cas had told then on their way here. Besides being dicks, they had no imagination. Getting rid of them was long overdue.

Sam kicks the metal door when they hear a whooshing sound.

Inside, Cas has Rowena in his arms. Around them, several dead angels. She looks a little dizzy, her head on his shoulder. He looks a little winded, and he gasps “We need to leave,” before disappearing in a beam of light. Dean and the others need to go back the way they did: going up seven levels of steep stairs.

When they arrive back in heaven, Dean has no idea where Cas and Rowena went, but on a hunch, he goes to the bunker. Rowena is sitting at the war room, elbows on the table, red hair in disarray, head in hands. She looks shaken.

“Cas?” is all Dean asks.

“In your room,” she answers.

So, here they are. Cas is on Dean’s bed, still in his armor. Dean has no idea how to remove it, and he’s afraid to move him.

“One of the angels had a blade near my throat,” Rowena’s voice trembles slightly. “Castiel started to talk to him, trying to convince him to let me go. The other came from behind and he didn’t duck in time.” She opens her hand and shows them an angel blade, dirty with something slimy, silvery and shiny, almost like mercury.

Angel blood. Cas’ real blood.

“It didn’t go all the way in,” Rowena says. “I think he collapsed as soon as we got here. When I came to myself, we were on the floor. I helped him get to your room. He closed his eyes and…” she trails off.

Dean nods slightly. “Cas…?” he tries again. But Cas is still like a marble statue. All Dean can think of is that Cas was already hurt when they went to hell, and on top of that he was stabbed, and now he – he shakes his head to send the dark thoughts away. Cas can’t die here, can he? Dean has just killed a couple of angels a few hours ago, but they were in hell. Do angels die in heaven?

“Dean?”

Jack’s voice is like music to Dean’s ears. The young man stops by the door, all wide eyes. He approaches them slowly, staring at Cas. When he gets close, he puts a hand on Cas’ chest and closes his eyes. For a few seconds they just stay there, completely still, as if suspended in time, but Dean’s heart is aching inside his chest, so he knows this isn’t a nightmare.

“There,” Jack says. “I closed all the wounds.”

“All the wounds?” Dean asks, dumbfounded. “As in, a lot?”

“Too many,” Jack answers. “Angels fight aiming to kill, never to just hurt. But he’s going to be alright now.”

“He’s still not waking up.”

“The damage was in his true form, no less. He needs some time to recover, to replenish his grace. He’ll wake up, Dean. He’ll be alright.”

Dean can’t hold an angry huff. “Stupid angel. He had to go and help Rowena and put himself in danger like that.”

Jack shrugs. “He always felt at least partially responsible for what happened to her. After I brought him here, they kept in touch.”

“So like Cas,” Dean shakes his head. “The idiot’s born in heaven, a badass commander, but he has to go and make friends with the sorry ass humans, he rebels, falls, sacrifices himself a handful of times… befriends a witch queen of hell, almost dies – again – in a mission to save her because he feels he owes her something.” “And who told him he was responsible for her death, asshole?” his mind offers.

“You know Castiel. Always happy to bleed for someone.”

“Jack, get out of my head!” Dean snaps.

Jack raises his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Hey, it’s not my fault that you were thinking of Cas saying he was ‘always happy to bleed for the Winchesters’. Your thoughts are all over the place, very loud, I should add. If you don’t control them, they just fly to my head. For example, right now, you’re thinking I’m an asshole, and also wondering what you’ll do for the rest of eternity if Castiel dies.”

“Fuck, Jack, come on!”

Jack blinks and suddenly Cas’ armor is gone. He’s in his old attire – suit, tie, trench coat. Then he puts a hand on Dean’s arm and squeezes a little, forcing him to raise his head and look at him.

“Castiel will wake up. I promise. But the thing is, you shouldn’t be worrying about what you’re going to do if he dies. Rather, what you’re going to do if he lives. He’s here, Dean, and so are you. What are you going to do with it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, man.”

“And that,” Jack gets up and looks at Dean sadly, “Is why Castiel’s greatest joy so far was just in the saying, not in the having. You’ve wondered why he thinks so little of himself… but have you ever given him any reason to think otherwise, Dean?”

Jack just disappears in the air, one moment here, the other gone.

Dean feels like he’s just been punched.

-----

A day and a night come and go, and still Cas sleeps. Dean never leaves his side. Sam comes, offers him soup, then beef jerky, then a beer. Dean refuses everything. It’s not as if he needs to eat.

“Dean – “ Sam starts.

“Not now, Sammy,” Dean closes his eyes. “I know you’re worried, and I appreciate it, but I can’t.”

“Jack said… um… that I should leave you alone, that you have a lot of thinking to do. So, if you need anything, I’ll be in my room.”

Dean just nods and Sam goes.

The room is dark except for a bedside lamp, projecting shadows on Cas’ face. Looking at him, Dean shakes his head again. Stupid angel. Beautiful, beautiful creature that came into Dean’s life more than twelve years ago and saved him so, so many times. Someone Dean can count on. Someone he can’t live without.

Wait.

He can’t live without Cas. Even if he’s technically dead, spending heaven-life without him is something Dean can’t conceive.

Shit.

Suddenly, everything is so clear that Dean doesn’t understand how he could be so dense. All this time, and his stupidity let him spend his life thinking he was unworthy of love, when in fact… he was loved by the most awesome person that ever existed. And he loves this person back just as much.

He does, doesn’t he? He has always – shit, he has always loved Cas back, and why the fuck did his stupid brain not get to this conclusion before?

Yep. It’s official. He’s a moron.

Jack knew, of course. That’s what he meant when he said Dean had a lot to think about. Even Sam, he probably knew too, judging from the faces he made whenever Dean and Cas started one of the many bickering sessions they had. Or one of the staring contests. Meg, Crowley, all the times they, and so many others, implied there was something between Dean and Cas, and Dean thought they were just trying to piss him off.

He spends a long time thinking, not realizing he has one of Cas’ hands between his. It’s like a twelve-year film is passing inside Dean’s head. Long stares, small touches, soft and private smiles, stupid choices, sacrifices… it was all there for anyone to see, but Dean was blind, how could he be so blind? Cas’ love for Dean was written in everything he did since forever.

Dean, on the other hand… looking back he can see, clear as day, the many, many times he was a dick to Cas. He never gave him a reason to stay, then complained because he left, even if he never stopped him from leaving. He never let Cas feel appreciated. He hardly ever thanked the guy for saving his ass. He doubted him; he blamed him; he kicked him out of the bunker when Cas was human and vulnerable. He doesn’t deserve Cas’ love. Cas could do better.

But the thing is… he has Cas’ love, and what he’s going to do about it? Because, on the other hand, Dean can also see the trench coat that spent ages in the Impala’s trunk. He can see his bloody hand punching a door when Cas was dead. He can see himself spending almost a year looking for Cas in Purgatory, and refusing to leave without him. So many, so many small things that he always labeled as friendship, but now is so, so clear it was... so much more.

“Cas,” he closes his eyes. “Hear me. Please.” He’s praying, taking a leap of faith here, and he hopes it will work. “You need to wake up. See, I have something to tell you, but you need to be awake for that, ‘cause it’s very important and… it can change everything. I need you, so please, please – “

“Hello, Dean.”

10- Tell him how you feel. Live/die happily ever after.

They’re on the bunker’s rooftop again. It’s becoming Dean’s favorite place.

Rowena has gone back to hell, once her lackeys got rid of all the bodies. Jack went back to the Empty, they’re negotiating Gabriel’s release. Sam, as soon as Cas woke up, remembered he needed to visit Mary and John asap.

So, Dean and Cas are alone.

They’re sitting on the rooftop, feet dangling, and Dean has a beer in his hands, more to have something to hold and ground him than for drinking.

“Cas, “ he starts. But he has no idea what he’s going to say. Rather, he has, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

“Yes, Dean?” Cas’ profile, illuminated only by the moonlight, almost shines. Everything about him seems to shine, like he’s so beautiful and perfect inside that the light can’t help but spill to the outside. Technically, he knows that’s Jimmy’s face. But it’s so different from Jimmy’s. The hair in disarray, the so very blue eyes with a hint of silver, the perpetual frowny face… and the guttural voice. Traits that make Cas unique, traits that no one else has. For Dean, Jimmy’s face is ordinary. Cas’ face, he can’t get out of his head. Now that he knows.

“You said you had something to tell me,” Cas says. He’s not looking at Dean, and there’s a slight tremor in his voice, almost as if he’s afraid to know what Dean has to say.

Dean clears his throat. Here goes nothing. “When you died… the last time you died,” he starts.

“Dean, please,” Cas almost begs. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

“What if I want to talk about this?” Dean blurts out.

Cas cocks his head to the side. “Dean?”

“It made me think, Cas. What you said, it made me think. But… I didn’t want to think. Because… it hurt. It hurt so much that I put a lot of stuff on top of it, shoved a lot of things under the rug so I didn’t have to see what I’d wasted.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Bear with me. You will.”

Cas only nods, but his eyes are a little anxious, a little wide.

“Then the freakin’ metal bar came. I didn’t want to die, you have to believe me. But – bit I didn’t want to live like that either. And I didn’t see a way to change. I was looking for a job, already knowing how it’d be. The empty feeling inside me, just like when I was with Lisa and Ben; I had an apple pie life, I had a family, a job… and inside me there was this void they couldn’t fill.”

“I thought you were happy,” Cas murmurs.

“Yeah, sometimes I’m good at pretending. But listen to me, I’m not finished yet.”

“Okay.”

“So, when the metal bar went straight to my lung, I knew that the little time I had to live… I didn’t want to waste it in a hospital, I needed Sam to know that he was my everything. He was, Cas, because that’s the way I was raised, that was drilled and imprinted in my head when I was four. And, I had to tell him that, and if they took the bar off, I’d probably die without him knowing it. I didn’t fight because I wanted to die. I just made a choice, and it was to let my brother know that he didn’t have to stay with me in the bunker forever, he could have a life. A normal one. I took him off from his apple pie life fifteen years ago, I needed to put him back.”

“Dean, this is… Sam was devastated. He’s have stayed with you, not out of obligation, but because he loves you.”

“I know, Cas. I know. But I was dying, man. My thoughts were all scrambled. I’m telling you this because I’ve given it a lot of thought, and you’re the first one I’m telling this. You’re probably the only one who will know this, ever.”

“I’m honored by your trust in me,” Cas says solemnly.

“Yeah, yeah, better late than ever, right?” Dean says, a little self-deprecatingly. “But listen. There’s more.” He takes a deep breath. “Some things you told me that day stayed with me. That I wasn’t the killer I saw in myself. That I was good. That everything I did was for love. But… now I realize that all that love, it was never directed at someone that should’ve gotten it the most, because he loved me when I didn’t love myself.”

“Dean, what – “

Dean raises his hand to make Cas stop talking. “The thing is… When you said those words to me, and I didn’t say anything… I should’ve said something. I should’ve. Even if it was just ‘you’re important to me, Cas, don’t go’. But I’m a coward and I didn’t say a thing, and you were just gone. I blinked, and you were gone, and I knew I’d never see you again.”

“I didn’t say it to be reciprocated, Dean. I said it because I had just had an epiphany and I was so happy for finally understanding that I could just say it, because it was the truest thing inside me for a long, long time. I realized that and… I had to let you know. But I wasn’t expecting anything from you, I didn’t want that burden on your shoulders. I didn’t want you to think you owed me anything.”

“But I did, Cas. I do. I owe you my life, more than once. I owe you my humanity and I owe you never giving up on me, even when I gave up on you. I’ve reached to the conclusion that I owe you everything that remains good inside me. And – and then you left and I – why did you have to sacrifice yourself like that?”

“It was out of utter despair, Dean. We were in a situation that we had no way of winning. And I… I looked at you, and your face, so devoid of hope… and you were beautiful’ you were Dean Winchester! I held your soul in my hands a long time ago, and from that moment on, everything changed, Dean. I wanted to fight it at first, but it was useless. That was something my powers could never do, and for all the free will I had fought for, this one thing, what I felt for you, what I feel for you, is the only thing I have no free will over. And in that moment of – of desperation, I knew I would give my life for you again and again if I had to.”

“Cas…” Dean says, amazed. He can’t even begin to understand the love this timeless creature, this angel that was been around since the beginning of time, feels for him. It’s beyond his comprehension, but in Cas’ eyes he sees that every word is true. This love, this seemingly enormous thing that made Cas defy heaven and every order that Chuck, Naomi, Zachariah, Uriel, Raphael and everyone else ever gave him, it’s too much for Dean’s ordinary human mind to understand. But he wants it.

“I was… I was so used to you always being around that I didn’t realize that whenever you were gone, every time, Cas… you took part of me with you.”

Cas’ eyes widen. “Dean…?”

“You said I deserve to be happy. Then you built this – this heaven for me with all I could possibly want, but Cas… I could never, I can never be happy here - ”

“Dean, don’t,” Cas starts. “Please.”

“- not without you,” Dean goes on. “Never without you. You can put everything and everyone here, you can build me a bunker, a palace, I don’t care. If you’re not here, it will never make me happy.“

Dean inches closer, until his face is so close to Cas’ that he can see his long lashes and his blue, blue sparkling eyes. “So, I’m telling you… that thing you said, back there, that you couldn’t have? You can have it, Cas. It’s yours. It has been yours for a long time, but I was too stupid to realize.” “But Dean, how can you –“

“Shut up, Cas, don’t spoil the moment.”

“But I – “

“Shut up, Cas,” Dean’s voice is laced with fondness.

“But you – “

“Dean loses his patience, just a little. “Cas! For Jack’s sake!” Then he adds, softly, “I’m trying to kiss you here, so unless you really, really want to stop me, just. Shut. Up.”

Cas snaps his mouth shut.

Dean closes the distance between them and his lips touch Cas’, briefly, softly. There’s no electric current, fireworks, sparks flying, like in the paperback novels Dean will deny forever that he reads once in a while. There’s only this indescribable happiness. There’s this sense of “this is it” inside his head. Cas is it.

They come apart slowly, and Dean looks at Cas’ eyes, which are bright and moist, and Dean smiles, knowing that these almost tears are of happiness. The same happiness he feels, knowing that finally, finally Cas won’t go any other minute of his life without knowing how much he is loved. Because he is.

“You’re my best friend,” he whispers, “and you’re it for me. So, if you want, we can, maybe… spend all eternity together?”

Cas smiles, the kind of rare smiles that scrunches his nose and wrinkles the corner of his eyes. The smile Dean has never seen in him, except when they’re together, laughing. “I’d like that,” he says. “A lot.”

“Alright,” Dean murmurs, going for another kiss.

They have all the time in the world, and they’re not in a hurry, so the kiss doesn’t end anytime soon, and morphs into another one, and in so, so much more. The moon in shining up in heaven’s sky, but Dean knows it’s a pale comparison to the shine in Cas ‘eyes.

--- --- ---

About the author

Dean Winchester was born on January 24, 1979 to John and Mary Winchester in Lawrence, Kansas. He died on November 19, 2020. He is the couple's first child, four years older than his younger brother, Sam. He is named after his maternal grandmother, Deanna Campbell. Dean was raised as a hunter by his father, after his mother’s death. He lived the life of a nomad, eliminating several monsters, ghosts, evil spirits and demons, and saving a lot of humans. He also played a crucial part in Apocalypse I, Apocalypse II, the Darkness Apocalypse and in Chuck Shurley’s (AKA The Almighty) demise. He also killed Adolf Hitler. Currently, Dean lives in Heaven, sector 24 – A, with his partner, his brother and his dog. He works as a Newcomers' Advisor. Mail can be sent to PO box KAZ 2Y5.

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Epilogue

Snippet of life in Heaven.

“Sammy, take this.” Dean shoves the little booklet in Sam’s hand.

They’re in one on the many gatherings and parties around here. This time, is for Bobby and Karen’s vows renewal. Everyone is there, everyone is happy, dancing, smiling. Dean sees Sam in a corner, surreptitiously looking at Eileen, on the other side of the room, talking to Cas.

Sam picks the booklet. “How to fall in love when you’re dead,” he reads. “A guide by Dean Winchester.” He looks at Dean, frowning. “Did you… write this?”

“Dean shrugs, cheeks reddening. “Cas helped. But I did most of the work.”

“Wow, Dean,” Sam’s face shows his astonish.

“I mean… I figured this could help other people to solve their… unfinished business, you know? I solved mine,” he says, looking at Cas, who is talking to Eileen using ASL. He’s really amazing. “If I solved mine, a lot of people can, too. Just – just don’t read it near me, or don’t ask me anything about the things I wrote there. It’s… I still don’t like chick flick moments, okay?”

“You don’t fool me,” Sam smiles, holding the booklet close. “I know you’re a big sap.”

Dean clears his throat. “I know you’re still in love with Eileen, Sammy. So, go and talk to her. Things are different here, but just because we literally have all eternity in our hands, it doesn’t mean we have to waste it.”

Sam looks at Eileen again. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m… I’m gonna read this, and talk to her.”

“You do that. But maybe you’ll want to skip the part where things got really steamy at the bunker’s rooftop."

“Ewww, Dean! Come on! I did not need to that information!”

“I’m just kidding, Samantha, don’t get your panties twisted. ‘Cause, if I’d have to write about all the times things got steamy between me’n Cas since we got together, this would probably be R-rated.”

Sam slaps Dean’s shoulder, but he’s laughing.

“Ew, not again, jerk!”

“Bitch.”

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“Did you give your book to Sam?” Cas asks.

Dean rolls his eyes. “It’s not a book, Cas.”

“It’s about us. For me it’s a book, and you’re not changing my opinion about it.”

They’re close, facing each other, and somewhere there’s soft music playing. Dean doesn’t even notice when he and Cas put their hands on each other’s waists.

“Dean, I… um… I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” Cas says, serious.

“Shoot.”

“Jack wants to build a new section in heaven, and I volunteered. And I, um… I need your assistance.”

“Sure,” Dean says. “What is it? A new bible camp?” he jokes.

“A beach.”

Dean frowns. “Did I hear you saying a beach?”

“Yes. Like… um… the Bahamas.”

“But… why do you need my help to make a beach?”

“I don’t need your help with the beach part. But I… I was thinking that maybe, if you want, you could um… build a cabin there. And…” Cas’ cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. “And of course, I’d have to go there and inspect it. And we would be… you know… alone. You and me. With no other angel or human soul around.”

Oh.

Dean arches his eyebrows. “Castiel Winchester, I didn’t know you had a devious side.” He widens his eyes. Oops.

“Winchester?” Cas’ eyes, if possible, are even wider.

It’s Dean’s time to blush. “Yes, um… if you want to. But if you don’t, it’s – “

“Dean. I’d be honored.”

“Yeah?”

They’re swaying slowly, almost dancing together without even realizing it.

“Yes,” Cas says. “Would you be too embarrassed if I kissed you now?”

“Nah,” Dean smiles. He looks around. Every one of his extended family and friends is there. “They’ll all probably read the booklet, anyway. Besides, the only one that didn’t know we were boyfriends without the fun, was little ol’ me.”

“Good,” Cas says, kissing Dean, the kind of soft and unhurried kiss that leaves no doubt of the love behind it.

Dean kisses him back, his chest almost bursting with joy, with love. And, in his lips, Dean tastes the forever that awaits them.

THE END

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#destiel secret santa 2020 #15x20 fix it

66 notes · View notes

inmytaste-blog · 5 years

Text

Scarred

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Heart clenching and mild shock

A/N: This is my very first work on this blog and I would really appreciate some feedback! Also, some requests would also make my day! I hope you like this story and if so let me know! Happy reading!

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21:30 p.m.

The streets weren’t as empty as someone would have thought they’d be at this point of hour. Cars were still passing by and people were eager to walk down those streets without being willing to return to their homes and to their warm beds. Truth is that if I had someone to stride down streets and talk about anything and everything myself, I wouldn’t want to go home and sleep. But this doesn’t always apply to everyone and quite frankly, I was one of those who didn’t get that anymore.

Instead, I was sitting comfortably in my armchair which faced the window, with my phone next to me and my favourite cup of black coffee between my fingers. This might sound appealing to some people but for me has become my life for the past three months and I am slightly getting tired of it. My friends come by my apartment to check up on me and even distract me with their company but deep down, I know they would rather be outside living their lives and avoiding misery instead of facing misery itself that is me.

I have to admit that I am significantly better than the first month. If I say that I am a personification of misery now, I was a personification for disaster back then. Things looked dark and gloomy without having a chance to get better which weighed me down a whole lot. I had to abandon my current neighbourhood and return to my hometown to get myself together and start new. It surely wasn’t the easiest thing to do but it was something that certainly needed to be done if I wanted to stand on my two own feet.

Many people, including my family, were confused as to why I came back from my perfect newfound life and I couldn’t blame them. I had everyone fooled that I was happy and carefree, myself included. Truth is, that’s what love does to you. To us. It makes reality seem appealing and it makes you look at it through rose coloured glasses. But no one can escape its fearful and sad parts as well. I was one of its victims of course and at first I hated it. I wonder if my ex thinks the same as well.

Three months ago, I thought I had everything. I had what I thought was the perfect relationship with the perfect boy I could ever ask for. Things finally seemed to fall into place and I was more than enjoying it. Shawn and I had something really special and I know I wasn’t the only one feeling like that. We had met at a friend’s party and I have to admit that we didn’t hit it off well right away.

When I was first introduced to him, I felt like he was trying too hard to impress people with his kindness and his looks were a big help for him. He might have felt something was off with me because he was a bit reluctant when we were left alone at the bar but I was just being myself. He was handsome but he was also…. Too much. I got the feeling that whoever stood next to him would feel less significant and even…. Inferior. I will not lie. I felt the same thing next to him as well. Good thing he sensed that and he brought his humour on the table which saved the day.

I was happy to know that he was on good terms with my friends which meant that he would join us when we went out to eat burgers or to get ice cream. I had started to get accustomed to his presence and it was even pleasurable. My friends would say to me that Shawn was very careful with the people he chose to spend time with so I somewhat felt special he was so open with me. Everyone said that he was indeed more comfortable around me and I remember them nudging me about it. I would pretend like it was nothing when in reality I felt giggly inside.

The thing is that he wasn’t the only one being so comfortable. When he was around or when he would laugh a bit louder at my own jokes, I would get a sense of triumph and I would feel butterflies in the pit of my stomach. My eyes would always light up a bit when his name would appear on my screen or when he would call me before going to sleep to tell me he had a great time watching me trip or getting my mouth dirty with chocolate ice cream. I had really grown fond of his extraordinary personality and I guess it really showed in everything I did and everyone that was near. Nickie once told me that we could really go off as a couple and I only laughed at her statement back then even though I was dying to know whether Shawn felt the same thing as we were portraying to everyone.

Soon enough, the answer came and it was what I wanted to hear. He knew that I really liked going places and I really liked exploring new things so in my birthday, he surprised me with a flight to his hometown, Toronto. I had never been there but what really stroke me was that he chose me out of everyone to show his places to. Our friends already knew that he would make a move during our stay in Toronto and they even helped him organize the whole surprise. I mentally cursed everyone for not telling me but underneath, I wanted to thank them for not spoiling it. So much for a decisive person.

Our trip to Toronto was the best adventure I ever had to say the least. Shawn made sure everything was perfectly scheduled and he tried to keep our trip light and not hectic in order to have power for some clubbing as well. We made the most out of our days there, phones in hand only to photograph places or each other and money in our pockets to spend it only on food and some souvenir pieces. He insisted I bought some clothing as well but he gave up after some time knowing damn well that I am more a foodie than a girl who likes to change thirty skirts in one standing.

My favourite time of day though, had to be our late night conversations. We really enjoyed sitting up till late in the night and talk about what we liked from the previous hours of exploring or what we found odd. Somewhere along our talking we would move to different topics and Shawn even confessed his battles with anxiety he faced in the previous years and how he managed to dominate them over time. I was at a loss for words since I had no clue about his health problems even if they sort of belonged in the past. I told him about my difficult adolescence and how my parents were never there for me to support me apart from my sister who was always there even though she had to worry about her college life being the older one.

No matter how much I loved our night talks, one particular night stood out the most for me during our whole trip. It was the night he took my hand and placed us both on the top of his car along with one big furry blanket and lots of marshmallows. We climbed on top and started talking once again for what seemed to be our last night in Toronto. And just as we had started talking he just grabbed my hands and told me the one thing I had only dreamed in my sleep he would say.

‘’I think I am in love with you Y/N’’

If I was still chewing on the last marshmallow I am pretty sure I wouldn’t be here reminiscing over those times with Shawn. My breath was caught in my throat and I felt like the stars in the night sky had doubled. Needless to say, that when we got back to Brighton everyone knew we were a couple and more adorable than ever. It was the happiest I had ever been. But I wish it lasted for a lot more than it actually did.

The first four weeks into our relationship were pure bliss. We woke up under the same roof and the one thing I saw when my eyes were wide open was his perfect sleepy state which I’d rather see on him every hour of the day instead of a cashmere high end costume. I am not gonna lie; I would take a solid ten minutes to be mesmerized by his angelic face thinking I was indeed lucky to be called his and to call him mine. I would then go to the kitchen and master up some breakfast for both of our rumbling stomachs and then he would come down to eat with me because ‘’You really know what people are like when you get to eat with them’’ as Shawn would put it. Next thing I remember is him suggesting ways to spend the rest of our day either staying in and sulking in our comfortable couch or going out to eat somewhere or just walk.

No one can deny that he had become a part of my reality and he made it turn into something very beautiful contrary to it being rather mundane before him. So when the time came and I realized that my reality would not include him anymore it felt like I lost the earth under my feet. I still can’t seem to wrap my head around what actually tore us apart and deep down I can’t bring myself to ask him. Not even now. The only thing I know and remember is him telling me that he feels pressured and tangled in our relationship. I never thought Shawn was the type of guy to get up one day and mouth those words but life has a funny way to surprise us. The pain his words left behind was too much to take and even now, after 3 months of his absence, the scar is there.

When I caught up with Nickie after my somewhat breakup with Shawn she explained that Shawn was never like this before. The only rational explanation she could provide was the fact that the feelings developed between me and him were too strong and powerful for him to take and he might have felt terrified of it. I was paralyzed as I heard that reasoning and I wondered if I did something that made him feel trapped. I still haven’t stopped blaming myself that I messed up and scared him away but how can his smiles, his carefree side reaching the surface, his confessions be justified if I indeed asked too much of him? Even so, I had the right to know where we went wrong and whether we could work together to fix it but this opportunity never really arrived and I was left in the dark.

Just as I lift my head to watch at the much darker night, a feeling of nostalgia rushes through me and I welcome it dearly. I don’t have Shawn in my life anymore but I do have our memories with him whether this is for the better or for the worse. Sometimes I still find myself wondering how he is pulling through and what fills up his days now that I am no part of them anymore. I shouldn’t do that to me but then again, I never found a way to stop me especially when he didn’t clearly state why he wanted out.

Wrapping a blanket around me and taking a final glance at the streets, I had back inside my apartment closing the door behind me. Nights were always the hardest part of the day because I had to face an empty and cold bed in front of me which waited patiently for my own emptiness to appear and overcome me. The clock on the nightstand read 23:00 which was pretty early to fall asleep considering there were even times when sleep won me over early in the mornings due to overthinking. With this thought in mind, I preferred to sit in front of the television and watch whatever the channels had to offer.

Turning the device on, I couldn’t help but feel like Shawn maybe saw our relationship as a switch that he had the upper hand to control whether he felt like it. It was low of me to think like that but he gave me good reasons to do so. He just let the curtains fall with a snap of his fingers. I can’t really say whether it pained him or not but it surely pained me. You just don’t do such things to the ones who love you right? Just as I was about to go deeper into my mind’s questions, the sound of the bell ringing woke me up and saved me.

Going to open the door, I felt slightly confused as to who would come to pay a visit at that time of day and when I opened the door, I was utterly confused as to why Shawn was at my door, ringing the bell. Taking a good look at him, I was sure about one thing only.

Maybe I wasn’t the only one who was scarred by our breakup.

51 notes · View notes

heartofsnark · 5 years

Text

Black Market Wonderland (Chapter Six): A messy brain, I’m not okay

Notes: As always, thanks for the continuous support of this story. There has even been people doing fan art of Tsuneko which blows my mind. This was another chapter I struggled with, I’m still unsure when writing Rhion. But, I love him enough to try.

Word Count: 5,499

Warnings: Nightmare, Suicide (within nightmare) and another panic attack for good measure. I feel like Tsuneko has a lot of panic attacks but given her situation, I feel it’s justified.

Missed the last chapter? Link Here!

Tsuneko’s dorm kitchenette is filled with savory and sweet scents; she puts the finishing touch on the final dish with a low hum. She packs it all away in containers, it will be a pain carrying all of the dishes, but she’ll have to manage. It’s odd how excited she is about this, after dealing with Ichinomiya and Oh, visiting Wonderland feels like a vacation. For all his eccentricities, the Hatter has by far been the kindest of the men involved with the auctions. The only one who can even compare is Baba, but his kindness comes with incessant and nauseating attempts to flirt.

There are a few blotches of stuff on her apron and she hopes it doesn’t stain, ironic given what it is, but she can’t help it. She tosses it in the hamper and throws on a jacket; she already changed into more casual clothes the second she was back from the boutique. She feels so much better in her own clothes, her hair done a way she likes, and she even put in her tongue ring. It was something reckless she did a few years ago in college, she rarely gets to wear it anymore with her job, but it feels nice to have it back in place.

She gathers the food, balancing it all in her arms as she heads out. Tsuneko has to cut through the lobby to head towards Wonderland. She feels a little out of place, she’s basically only here if she’s working, so wearing her casual clothes in the lobby is a new experience.

“Tsuneko!” A familiar and accented voice rings out, every muscle in her body tenses as Mr. Bucci comes over.

“Hello, Mr. Bucci, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” She’s careful as she speaks, aware of the possibility of showing her tongue ring. As much as she likes fucking over Ichinomiya looking like some sort of delinquent in front of his potential work partner feels like a step too far.

“I thought you were spending the day with Carolina and them?”

“I was with them earlier, but I had to leave, I’m on my way to drop off some food actually.”

“You cook?”

“A little, actually,” she manages to open the top container, “do you want a piece of cherry almond bread?’

The older man guffaws at her struggling to get a piece out, she’s hoping the sweet can soothe any bad impression she’s made.

“Thank you very much,” he takes a bite, “there’s nothing better than home cooking, I swear.”

“I’m so glad you like it, I’ll have you cook something just for you while you’re here.”

“Sounds like a plan, I’ll be looking forward to it then.”

Tsuneko waves him off and sighs once he’s out of hearing distance, he’s definitely easier to contend with than his daughter, but she’d still hate to upset him. Not only is he important for Ichinomiya’s work, but she really doesn’t want to make enemies with the Italian mafia. Doesn’t sound like a good time to her. She takes the stairs down to the Hatter’s tea room and knocks on the door.

“It’s Tsune- Alice.”

“Come in! Come in!”

Tsuneko steps into the room and no less surreal than it was the first time, she’s not sure she could ever get used to this. This time the table is already set, the decorations from last time are still out, and the costumed men are already at the table.

“We’ve all been waiting; I’ve been so excited I could barely set the table.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, now,” she tells him as she sets everything out, “do you mind pouring the tea?”

The scent of Assam tea mingles with the smells of the food she’s made; Yorkshire pudding with roast, gravy and vegetables. Along with the lemon chiffon pie he requested as a dessert, she made cherry almond bread. He seems to have a taste for sweet fruity things; the lemon chiffon pie and raspberry sauce both coming to mind. The Hatter’s eyes are trained on her as she plates the main course; she tried to make a lot since the March Hare and Dormouse are here as well.

“You seem to be in high spirits today, Alice.”

“Do I?”

“You do.”

“I had a lot of fun cooking for you, plus I’d rather be here than with any of the penthouse guys any day.” she answers with a shrug.

“Ahh, you’ll make my heart fly out of my chest, saying things like that.”

“Pfft, sure, I just hope you like everything I made.”

“It smells so delicious; I might drift off to sleep.” The Hatter closes his eyes and takes a deep inhale.

“I swear to god, if you fall asleep before you even try any of this, I’ll be shoving it down your throat.”

“Ah! How scary!” He jolts up in his seat with wide eyes and she can’t help but snicker.

“Here you go,” she places a plate in front of the Hatter and the two pseudo-furries, other than initial greetings the two have never spoken. If they’re the people the Mad Hatter is always with, he must get lonely, doesn’t he? She shakes off the thought and takes her seat.

“Yes, this is it! Look how the middle is sunken in, isn’t it lovely! ~”

“I just hope it tastes good.” She tried them before hand, but just because they taste good to her doesn’t mean they’ll meet his standard, since he actually knows how they’re supposed to taste.

“Let’s have a taste, Alice,” her leg bounces with nervous energy as the Hatter takes a bite, “mmm, it’s delicious, both the texture and flavor is perfection! ~”

“Yes,” she pumps her fist, “I’m so happy you like them!”

Her nerves relax and she takes a big bite out of her own Yorkshire pudding, the soft texture of the bread mixed with the flavor of the gravy brightens her smile even more.

“How is it?”

“It’s really soft and delicious.”

“Yes, I’m so glad you like them, Alice! ~”

“I’m happy they turned out well, I was really worried when you first asked me to make them. I had no idea what they were.”

“Really? What did you think it was?” He tilts his head to the side, his oversized hat nearly falling off from the movement.

“Uhhhh,” heat floods her cheeks and she stares at her plate, “like dessert pudding, possibly…shaped like a dog…like the terriers.”

“Pfffft, hahahaha!”

A peal of laughter escapes his painted lips and she buries her head in her hands, her skin feels like it’s on fire.

“Hey! Don’t laugh at me!”

“You say the most interesting things, Alice! ~,” he takes a bite of the roast beef, “mmm, the roast beef is perfectly cooked and the gravy is robust and flavorful!”

“You’re too nice.”

“It’s a lovely dinner, the roast beef is sliced so perfectly thin. If it’s cut too thick, it wouldn’t make for a good sandwich later. Ah, isn’t it a wonder how such a delicious meal can be made from such simple ingredients?”

“It really is. I thought it would be a lot more complicated.”

“Flour, eggs, and milk, that’s all the batter is, it’s like it’s transformed by magic!”

Tsuneko’s face is red through the entire meal, as laves compliment after compliment on her cooking. Every bite of food is accompanied by a noise of pleasure and a poetic gushing of how much he loves it. He cleans his plate of the main dish before digging into the cherry almond bread.

“Mmmm, the tart cherries and sweet bread are a lovely a combination! ~”

It’s gone in moments and she’s licking crumbs off her fingers, as the Hatter begins to dig into the lemon chiffon pie. She can’t get over how childlike all his actions seem to be, excitedly digging into every dish with an impossibly wide smile.

“The ephemeral meringue reminds me of a night blooming cactus as it melts instantly in my mouth. The sweet and sour lemon cream gives life to my very heart! ~”

“I’m pretty sure if your heart was pumping lemon cream, you’d die.”

“And I’m pretty sure you can’t make pudding into the shape of a dog,” he teases with a soft smile.

“Shut up.”

She pouts and takes a sip of tea, once the food is gone the March Hare and Dormouse take their leave, not long after a familiar fluff ball comes walking in.

“Oh, Cheshire, how are you today?”

The Hatter greets the oversized cat as she tries to jump into a seat, but she has trouble lifting herself. Tsuneko puts her hand under Cheshire’s back feet and gives her a lift up.

“Back from your nightly walk, are you?” Cheshire mews back at the Hatter’s question, “Oh? That’s wonderful. That’s the best part of taking a walk, isn’t it?”

“What did Cheshire say?” Tsuneko raises an eyebrow, humoring the Hatter’s attempt to be Dr. Doolittle.

“She was watching a beautiful butterfly fall asleep and felt the night breeze caress her cheeks.”

“Sounds like a lovely time, are you hungry?”

Tsuneko gets a little piece of roast beef, letting Cheshire eat it from her hand. Once she’s cleaned her hand, she starts scratching her ear, the cat leaning into the touch and purring.

“I think Cheshire has gained some weight.”

“It’s fine, she wears it well, want me to brush her fur out?”

The Hatter smiles brightly and brings her a brush. She begins stroking it through the cat’s fur; the silky fluff is relaxing to pet through. Cheshire curls up in her lap, purring with every brush and pet against her fur.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you something, about the auctions,” Tsuneko brings up, scratching under Cheshire’s chin.

“Hmm, what could that be?”

Tsuneko’s mouth dries out, thoughts of that stage, that night. This isn’t stage fright, she knows that. She’s never been afraid of speaking to crowds, but any advice or help from someone who steps onto that stage regularly is welcomed. She clicks her tongue ring against the roof of her mouth, fidgeting with Cheshire’s fur.

“Do you…ever get…nervous getting on stage?”

His head tilts curiously to the side, his hat once again threatening to topple over. He chews on his painted bottom lip and his face wrinkles in concentration.

“Are you nervous about it?”

“Uh….maybe, just a bit.”

“Why would the stage make you nervous?”

“Y’know, being stared at...and gunk…” She supposes severe trauma from being sold like a literal object can be safely tucked into the ‘gunk’ category.

"You worry about the silliest things," he waves his hand like it'll make her fear disappear, "you'll do wonderfully!"

Despite the chipper tone, not a single word that came out of his mouth was helpful. She sighs, she’s not sure what she expected, the Hatter is eccentric at best and completely detached from reality at worse, why would he be able to help her?

“’Preciate it,” she teeters back in her chair with her feet on the table and Cheshire still in her lap, “so, you grew up in England?”

His smile drops and every muscle in his body tenses, like she’s thrown cold water on him. She plays with the ring in her tongue, nervously pushing it up and down. She’s never seen him like this, like her one little question has sent his world crashing down.

“The place where I grew up…yes.”

“You said the Yorkshire pudding was from your home country, so I was curious…”

“The place where I grew up, it’s a place where there are beautiful roses…”

His eyes soften when he mentions the roses and Tsuneko finds her own wandering to the walls of Wonderland. Roses are painted over them, what she once assumed was just another reference to his favorite fairy tale has taken on a new meaning. Clearly, he has conflicted feelings about where he came from, but the roses seem to be a pleasant memory for him. There’s a pang in her heart, as strange as he is, he’s a kind person and seeing him hurt for even a second hurts her.

“That must be nice, roses are really beautiful.”

“They are,” he’s beaming again, “being surrounded by beautiful things is the best. That’s why Wonderland is so incredible. The clear sky, the lush garden, a wonderful table at which to have parties, roses, and-oh, I know there’s something I haven’t shown you yet, Alice!”

He’s gesturing flamboyantly as he rushes towards the wall, Cheshire hops out of her lap to start sniffing around the room. Tsuneko idly picks at the fur left on her shorts and tights while she waits for the Hatter’s new surprise. She hears the click of a switch and her breath catches in her throat.

The ceiling has shifted, no longer showing an evening sky, it’s now pitch black with gleaming stars. It looks so real, she knows it’s not, but she can see the starlight shining against the velvet black. It almost feels like she’s back home, sitting on her roof and stargazing again.

“Whoa, they look so real.”

“They are real stars in Wonderland.”

“It reminds me of when I was little,” Tsuneko can’t help but say, maybe because he talked a bit about his past, she feels like she should share her own.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it was a small place so you could see the stars really well. I use to always climb up to the roof of our house to see them. My dad kept telling me I was gonna fall and break my neck, he would worry over the stupidest shit.”

“Did you ever fall?”

“Yeah, but I broke my arm, so,” she shrugs her shoulders, “won that one.”

The Hatter laughs and she finds herself joining it, cracking up at her own dumb ass.

“You have a way at looking at the bright side, I suppose,” The Hatter manages to say as his giggles die down.

“Hmmm, more like just spiteful enough to say I won no matter what, but spin it however you want,” she pauses for a moment, “you want to like properly stargaze?”

“Properly stargaze?”

She smiles at the way his head tilts again; she wonders what he looks like beneath the makeup. His behaviors alone are too cute; does he have a cute face to match? Wait, what is she thinking? He’s an auctioneer who helped sell her, no matter how kind or cute he may or may not be, she can’t forget that.

“Yeah,” she shakes off the odd thought, “when there are stargazing event people will get blankets and lay out on the ground to watch them.”

“Oh,” his eyes are bright and wide, “that sounds like fun, let's do that!”

“Okay, help me move the table so we can lie down.”

She hooks her fingers under one side of the table and the Hatter’s eyebrows furrow, but follows suit in getting his hand on the other side. He’s biting his lip, is he worried about something?

“Count of three lift it up with me okay; one, two, three!”

She lifts and realizes why he was worried; she’s definitely lifting the brunt of the table’s weight. His arms are trembling from what he’s holding up, he’s not very strong. She finds herself smiling as she guide him to helping her move the table further off to the side, that must be why he needs the furry guys to move stuff. They put down the table once it’s far enough to the side and he’s letting out soft huffs of air, little beads of sweat make his makeup run a bit. It wasn’t that heavy, next time she could probably lift it alone.

“Do you have any extra blankets?”

“Uh, um, in the closet.” He points her in a direction; he’s too winded to be dramatic about it.

She’s smiling as she rummages, finding the biggest softest blanket she can. It falls across the center of the room with a soft noise, big enough for two and a cat. Tsuneko falls back against the blanket with all the grace of a boulder, stretching her arms and legs out to feel the soft fabric beneath her.

The Hatter follows suit, falling in place beside her. She can feel the warmth of his presence next to her, the fabric of his costume brushing against her, his limbs tangled with her own in the places where their sprawled bodies overlap and the way any semblance of personal space has been abandoned.

It’s not uncomfortable though, it should be but it isn’t. This kind of thing usually makes her want to scream and run away. Blurring of boundaries and sharing stories of the past, things that normally put a pit in her stomach feel fine here with him. Why? She’s never told Sakiko or Chisato a thing about her past, not even little anecdotes and she usually doesn’t let them too close, a casual touch here and there too. But, she’s never been able to relax like this, just letting someone be in her space.

Her eyes drift from the artificial stars to the man beside her, eyes narrowing as she tries to crack this code. His hat fell off, the teal hair color must be wash out, and she can see black patches of hair starting to peek through. The white face paint around his neck and forehead has started to rub off, little patches of regular fair skin beneath. She wants to fix it, retouch up his hair and makeup for him. She’s so accustomed to his over the top fake appearance, seeing even glimmers of the person beneath it is making her a little uncomfortable.

It’s because he’s fake.

The realization of it hits her. That’s why this is okay, why she can tell him about falling off the roof and can let him into her space, he’s not real. He is, but he isn’t. Sakiko and Chisato are real people they’re opinions, judgments, and actions have an impact on her. If they know the dumb shit she’s done or see her vulnerable, they’re judgment would hurt so much, because it’ll mean something.

The Hatter is fake, he may exist, but everything about him feels fake. It’s not like talking to a real person; she’s talking to a character, someone whose existence only impacts Wonderland. Everything about him is so far detached from reality, even Wonderland feels like she’s stepped into another world; it feels like nothing here matters. Like saying things to an imaginary friend or Kiyo. It means nothing, so why bother with boundaries? But, the Hatter exists and can give some sort of proper response. He’s not real enough, not enough of a person for her hang ups to matter, but enough of a person that it doesn’t feel like she’s talking to herself.

He falls into this uncanny valley of existence and it brings her a sense of comfort. There’s someone she can tell stupid things too, someone who can hear her, but not impact her. He’s a step up from talking into the void, but still a step down from talking to people. She can relax and have no fear with him, something she thought she could only do alone.

“Do I have something on my face Alice?”

“Huh, ah no, hey, you want to hear something stupid that happened after I broke my arm?” She stares back at the sky as she changes the topic.

“What’s that?”

“A couple days after a kid at school was annoying me, but I couldn’t punch him because of my arm. I was so upset I couldn’t fight because of my cast, I went home and tried to cut it off with a handsaw.”

“What!?” he slaps a hand over his mouth as he laughs.”

“My dad caught me before I broke through it all and had to take me to get it redone; I was so upset I didn’t talk to him for a whole day.”

“I never imagined my Alice was such a violent child,” he teases.

“You have no idea, I was a garbage kid. Like bad seed, demon spawn type shit. My parents would have had better luck raising a rabid dog, I swear.”

“You couldn’t have been that bad.”

“You want to bet? I swear every kid and their parents hated me. One time, a kid’s mom brought in cupcakes I didn’t like, so I pushed him off the jungle gym. Who does that!?”

“Alice, that’s awful!”

“I know, I was the worst, I’m not sure how my folks put up with me.”

“Lots of patience, I’m sure.”

“I think my dad still has a scar from when I bit him for telling me to go to bed.”

“You’re starting to sound more like the jabberwock than my Alice.”

“I can see that, I might be a jabberwock in disguise, you never know.”

“I’d still be happy to have you, even as a jabberwock. I’d adore you, claws and all.”

“You’re too sweet-oof,” the wind is knocked out of her as Cheshire hops onto her chest, “well, hello to you too.”

“What’s that Cheshire? Hmmm, you’d love Alice as a jabberwock too, guess we’re in agreement.”

“Awww, is that true sweetie?” She scratches over the cat’s fur, feeling Cheshire lean into her touch and purr.

“She means every word of it, no matter what she’d adore you.”

Heat flood Tsuneko’s cheeks, he’s really too nice to her, even knowing he helped sell her she can’t help thinking how nice he is.

“Hey, there’s even constellations up there,” Tsuneko points up at the projected night sky, “I’m pretty sure that’s Capricorn.”

“Do you know the constellations Alice?”

“A few of them, not a lot though, there was a girl in my class who could find and name them all in a second.”

There’s a pang in her heart, guilt eating at her when she thinks about that girl, but she swallows it down like bile and pushes those thoughts from her mind. She wants to be happy right now, in this little piece of Wonderland completely divorced from reality and in front of this odd man who seems to only exist here, she wants to be happy.

“Hmm, I’m afraid I don’t know any of them, Alice.”

“I only learned a few from other people; if I’m being honest they don’t mean anything to me. It all looks like random dots to me, the stories are interesting though.”

“Did you get invited out a lot, Alice?”

“Uhhh, invite isn’t really the right word, I just kind of showed up, whether anyone wanted me there or not. They’re fun though, have you ever been to anything like that?”

“Huh!? Uh, I can’t remember clearly, I’ve been in Wonderland for the past four years, so…”

“You haven’t been outside in four years?”

“Huh? Of course not,” his voice trembles and his eyes widen, “are you suggesting I go above ground, your jokes are too much Alice.”

“Hmm, okay, I understand.”

She’s not sure she does fully, but she can tell he must not want to push the issue. Maybe he’s agoraphobic? Why wouldn’t he ever want to leave, he’s even more cut off from reality then she realized. Does he have a family? Do they know what he does?

Does she want to know?

If she knew about those things, he’d be more human. If he’s more human, would she still feel so safe being like this with him? Would this new-found sense of comfort, a strange almost friendship, be ruined once he’s real?

Her eyelids are heavy and she can’t help yawning. How late is it? She checks the time on her phone, it’s past two am, how did time pass by so quickly?

“Are you tired Alice?” The Hatter asks with a soft voice, it feels like a lullaby to her sleepy brain.

Even in Wonderland, completely separate from reality, she’s not going to sleep in front of someone. The most she’s ever allowed is the occasional dozing off at hair salon, but those are never deep or enough for dream, just resting her eyes before she’s told to move. If she allows herself to sleep here, it’ll be a deep dreamy sleep. She’ll have a nightmare and scare him, or worse. There’s no place far enough from reality for her to allow herself to be that vulnerable.

“Yeah, I have to get headed home.” She pulls herself up to her feet and the hatter follows suit.

“Oh…you know, you could sleep here.”

“Uh, no, I couldn’t intrude like that.”

“It wouldn’t be intruding; I…have a room you can use.”

“Huh, you do?”

“I do and it might not be safe for you to walk alone so late.”

“My dorm is like five minutes away.”

His eyes focus on the floor and he pouts.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

His voice is soft and timid; he looks like a lost puppy dog. If he has another bedroom, there are a couple of doors around Wonderland, then she wouldn’t be near him while she was sleeping. So, it wouldn’t be an issue.

“Alright, where’s the spare room?”

“Oh! Yes! It’s right this way! ~”

He’s back to excited child status and all but skips towards one of the doors. She trails after him, movements sluggish with exhaustion. The Hatter opens the door like he’s revealing the most magical of secrets and her eyes widen.

The room is gorgeous, if not for the fact it would mean living with someone, Tsuneko wouldn’t mind staying here permanently. Part of the walls are soft floral patterns, the lower half pastel blue and white vertical stripes. The bed has a soft blue blanket and pale pink canopy.

“It’s so cute!”

“I’m glad you like it, you can use it anytime you want.”

“I really appreciate it, thanks.”

“It’s no problem, I’m happy to have you here; I’ll let you sleep now.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Alice.”

She waves him off for the night and shuts the door, why does he have the extra room? It seems like an odd thing to keep, the March Hare and Dormouse obviously don’t stay here. But, everything about him is odd, so maybe it’s best not to question things. She sends a quick text asking Chisato to check on Kiyo if she can and kicks off her boots, she doesn’t exactly have pajamas here, but she’s tired enough to fall asleep in anything.

Maybe it’s the stress of the shopping trip with Carolina finally coming down on her or having just gotten to relax with someone, either way she doesn’t feel the usual resistance to getting ready to sleep. She’s ready to crash already, she just hope she doesn’t make any noises to attract attention to her room. The walls don’t seem too thin, but that doesn’t mean soundproof.

She sets an alarm on her phone, tosses off her jacket and undoes the bun that’s been holding up half of her hair before throwing herself on the bed. It’s plush and so soft; it isn’t just nice to look at. Tsuneko roots and finds her way under the blanket; her eyelids grow heavier and heavier as she drifts off to sleep.

A deafening sort of silence overwhelms her as Tsuneko stands in the house; too cold, too dark, and too quiet to be considered a home.

The silence is pierced as rope shifts and wood creaks. Her heart pounds in her ears and she jolts into movement. A different kind of overwhelming, too quiet replaced with too loud, complete whiplash.

Too loud.

Too desperate.

Hot tears stream down her face, her lungs burn with the need to breath. It’s like she’s on fire, heat simmering under her skin and sweat running down the back of her neck.

Tsuneko sees her. Long dark hair falls over her face, noose wrapped tighter around her neck and the wood creaks with the strain to hold her body up. She doesn’t look dead, like she could move or breathe any second. Maybe, Tsuneko can save her.

She’s under them, forcing their weight up onto her shoulders. If she can lift them up higher, she can reduce the tension, stop them from strangling.

If only she was taller.

If only she was stronger.

If only she was smarter.

If only she was faster.

If only she was better.

If only she was enough.

But she’s not.

The weight of the body slumps heavy her shoulders, they’ve gone cold and decay is setting in.

Too short, she couldn’t get them up higher.

Too weak, couldn’t lift them up further.

Too stupid, why didn’t she grab a ladder, something to cut the rope?

Too late, if only she had gotten there sooner.

Too cruel, that’s why they’d choose death over her.

She’s not enough good things and too many bad things, a disgusting mess that drives everyone away.

Death is more desirable than her.

Death was better than one more moment with her.

Tsuneko wakes up with a jerk, knocking a pillow over in her frenetic movement. Her face is soaking wet, hot tears flooding her vision, she tries to wipe them away but her fingers are numb and trembling.

She can’t catch a deep enough breathe; every breath is a desperate gasp that just feels too shallow to keep her going. Her throat is tight, like it’s swelling and her heart won’t stop pounding.

Just a little peace, that’s all she wants. Why is that too much to ask? Why is her mind constantly reminding her of every failure, why does she have to be such a failure?

She needs to get away. Doesn’t matter where, just away.

Her hands are shaking; she nearly drops her phone and puts her jacket on inside out. She doesn’t bother zipping her boots, just shoving her feet into them before moving.

That’s all she needs to do right now, is move, go, get away. The door of the spare bedroom closes behind her with a noise and her panic fogged brain can just hear the sound of water running.

It’s coming from the bathroom, a shower.

The Hatter is taking a shower, so mundane, but so odd to think of with him. His hair color and makeup would be completely washed away, he must look…human. The water stops and the door starts to creak open. If she stays she’ll see who he is, he’ll be real.

She’s gone.

The door to Wonderland slams shut behind her and she’s taking the stairs two at a time, just pushing forward with every stumble or trip that threatens to send her falling back down.

She doesn’t want to see the real him.

She doesn’t want to see him as a person.

She doesn’t want the illusion broken.

If she lets that happen…

It’s over.

It’s ruined.

Whatever glimmer of happiness, whatever minute amount of peace she’s found here will be destroyed.

He’ll be real, he’ll be human, and he’ll know what a mess she is.

He’ll have shown her the real him before he’s ready, there’s a reason he’s like this, he’ll never want to see her again.

She’s so sick of everything going to shit.

She’s sick of how fragile every moment of happiness is.

She doesn’t want to destroy anything else.

She doesn’t want to ruin anything else.

She doesn’t want to be like this.

Why can’t she stop being like this?

Why can’t she just be happy?

Her feet hurt. She stops moving, a few random people brushing past her without concern for her state. She’s somewhere in the city, she’s not sure where. She just kept moving.

She’s breathing heavy, but it’s different. Huffs from exertion rather than panic. Her heart is starting to calm. Her limbs are heavy and leaden, but no longer numb. She just wants to fall down in the middle of the street and rest, maybe in the road so a truck tire can cave her skull in.

Instead, she checks her phone. She’s going to be late for work. If Ichinomiya thinks she’s avoiding work for the bet, she’ll lose automatically.

Does it even matter?

Can she even get her life back on track if she wins?

Even if she does, will it make her happy?

It’s not like she was ever really happy before.

Maybe even if she wins she’d be better off dead.

She doesn’t have time for this anymore. She’s used up her daily allotted breakdown time it seems, mental health takes a back seat to a paycheck until further notice.

Tsuneko sits down at a nearby bus stop, looking at the schedules available and makes a call, a heavy sigh on her lips.

“Yeah, Kenzaki, I’m going to be late. Sorry for being a bother.”

Her voice cracks with how much she means it. She’s just making everyone else’s life harder, fucking things up, that’s all she ever does.

#kbtbb #kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb eisuke #kbtbb soryu #kbtbb ota #kbtbb baba #kbtbb mamoru #kbtbb rhion #black market wonderland

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ausblack · 7 years

Text

RAGDOLL | p.jm | PT.2

PART 1 //...// PART 3

Genre: Hybrid!AU, College!AU; A mix of everything?

Pairing: Hybrid!Jimin x Reader

Summary: As you were studying to obtain your medical & veterinary degree, your professor came up with the idea of organizing an internship - where you found yourself side by side with a sick hybrid that needed nothing other that complete care.

Warning: None !!

A/N:Tell me if you like this chapter!!

The address that you’re professor had wrote in the paper that he had given to you in class led you to a small shelter that looked more like an asylum than anything else. With dirty while-colored walls and a couple of windows covered up by gray curtains, the only thing that you wanted to do was to run away when you found yourself in front of the metal door with Namjoon by your side.

“Are you sure this is the address that he wrote?” You asked him and he looked down at his paper - luckily your hybrids where kept in the same block.

“Yeah I’m pretty sure that I'm not blind.” He sassed you putting the wrinkled paper back into his pocket.

“Cut off being a bitch and knock on the door.” You responded and he looked at you with a small smirk on his face - rolling his eyes.

“You need to ring the bell dumbass, I’ll break my hand if I knock on the metal.” You scoffed at his remark, turning towards the bell next to you angrily.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Your finger touched the bell and you pressed it without waisting too much time.

You waited until someone opened the door and both you and Namjoon where greeted by a tall blonde lady with a clean apron on and orthopedic shoes.

“Hi! You two are probably the interns that we’ve been hearing a lot about right? Come in!” She spoke with an high-peached voice that made you cringe lightly.

You and Namjoon exchanged looks before getting in as she kept the door open with her hand.

“Would you mind to remind me what hybrids are you taking care of?” She asked, sitting back on her desk.

“Kim Taehyung.” Namjoon responded and she nodded giving him a pair of keys with a number on it.

“Every hybrid has his own room but during the day they stay together in a big room that you’ll find around the corner. Every room has a window so that anyone who wants to adopt one can see how they look and act before decided and filling in the papers.” She explained and you both nodded at her words.

“You can see that at the end of the hallway there are a couple of guards. They’re there to make sure that you don’t get hurt by any hybrid while spending your time with them.” She added before looking at you.

“What’s yours?”

“Oh..ehm..mine’s Park Jimin..” You responded and she laughed - you looked at her confused.

“Good luck with him darling, he can be a bit of a douchebag.” She said, looking down at her own computer to type something on the keyboard. You stayed silent, shocked at the unprofessional term that she had just used to describe a poor hybrid that needed help and attention from you - but Namjoon spoke up and you thanked him mentally for that.

“Why?” He asked and the girl laughed nervously putting her elbows on the desk to lay her head on her hands.

“Oh, just because he’s not one of the nicest in here.” She responded and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Maybe he just need someone to look after him.” Namjoon continued.

“Maybe he doesn’t deserve someone to look after him.” The girl stopped him and you both looked at her with wide eyes.

“He was abused by his previous family, we can understand why. He’s not a good hybrid and he doesn’t act like a cat should.” She continued but you couldn’t hold yourself in anymore.

“Are you justifying an abuse?” You asked and she closed her laptop with a smirky smile on her face that you just wanted to slap off.

“He’s just hopeless. You can’t help him.”

“He’s not hopeless, he’s faithless. The only thing he needs is help from someone who can teach him how to live again a happy life.”

“Good luck with that, love.” She gave you his keys and you scoffed, walking away from her with Namjoon close behind you.

“What a bitch, how can she work with hybrids if she doesn’t understand how they are?” Namjoon said and you nodded at his words.

“Don’t get me started. I’m nervous of meeting Jimin now.” You said, walking down the hallway, trying to find Jimin’s room.

You could see the rooms where all the hybrids where staying. They were all empty and loud noises could be heard from one of the bigger rooms where they were all playing together.

“I think mine’s there.” Namjoon said looking at the only fox hybrid in the room through the window. With a bandaged leg, he was still jumping around with a big and excited smile on his face.

“God, he seems active..” You said and Namjoon sighed.

“Healing will take a longer time than I thought if he moves that much.” He responded making you laugh.

He was playing with a dog hybrid and they were running around excitedly while the other hybrids were doing their own things.

“I don’t think mine’s here.” You said, looking for the cat hybrid.

“Try to ask at the guards over there, I’ll just go inside to speak with Taehyung a bit. Let’s meet outside in a bit, okay?” You nodded, saying bye before turning around and walking towards the two guards that were talking between themselves.

The two boys were wearing an all black outfit and they had small needles that you could see come out of their pockets. You’ve been studying enough to know that those were drugs that they used to anesthetize the hybrids.

“Sorry to interrupt, I was looking for someone.” This guys turned around to you, waiting for you to keep going.

“Where’s Park Jimin?” You asked and they pointed to a room at your left without adding a word.

The closest you walked to the room, the more nervous you felt - with thousands of butterflies inside your stomach that flew around without stopping.

What if that girl was right and you couldn’t do anything to help him?

What if he was going to hate you just because you were walking into his “zone”?

A lot of worries came to your mind as time passed, but the sight at the window made your thoughts dissolve in the instant.

Two furry white ears perked up from the blanket that the hybrid was using to cover himself up, lying in his bed with back towards you.

Without trying to scare him, you knocked lightly on the window to see if the hybrid was sleeping or not but he only responded with a movement of his ear.

You breathed unsteadily with your hand on the doorknob of his room and you entered using the key that the girl had given to you before - closing the door once you got inside.

The room was all white and only a couple of things where there to furnish the place - a bed, a nightstand, a couch, a small bathroom that was hidden in a corner and a small closet.

Looking around the room, you noticed that Jimin had changed his position on the bed and he was now sitting in the mattress with his eyes locked on you cautiously.

You were now able to look at his face and you stared at him for a little too long. He was handsome and you couldn’t help but to feel your heart flatter at his beautiful looks.

The clothes that he was wearing were a bit too large on him - probably because of his big weight loss.

Without coming too close, you put your backpack the floor and you walked a step towards him, making him back off against the wall near his bed.

You could tell that he was scared by the terrified look on his face, and that made you feel like you were doing something wrong.

“You’re Jimin, right?” You asked slowly and quietly without scaring him off.

“My name is Y/N and I’m a student in the Scientific University at the center of the city. “ You continued sitting down on the couch at the corner of the room, far from him.

His shoulder relaxed at the sight of you keeping your distance, but his ears were still flat on his head in awareness of the unusual situation. His tail was also moving nervously behind him.

“I’m here because I’ve been told that you’re hurt and my professor wants me to help you get better. I’ll stay with you a couple of days every week to help you and to keep you company, are you okay with that?” You asked, hearing silence as a response.

“I’m going to respect you while I stay with you because we’re going to stay with each other for a long time and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” You continued, seeing his big and cold eyes as he stared you down. His body posture said a lot about him and you took advantage of the fact that he never looked at you in the eyes, to analyze his attitude.

His legs were crossed on the mattress and his eyes were looking down on his feet. The white wall was attached to Jimin’s back, but his posture wasn’t completely straight up. He was bending slightly on his right side probably because it hurt or because he had injured himself on the right side of his body.

“Jimin.” You spoke up again with a louder voice and the poor hybrid flinched at the sudden sound.

“I need you to tell me, does your side hurt?” You asked and he looked at you for the first time, locking his eyes with yours.

They were preoccupied and confused, probably because he couldn’t understand how did you know.

“If you’re hurt, you need to let me take a look because it might be infected and it could be dangerous.” You said with a sternest tone and he lowed his head.

You walked towards the bed, making him move farther away from you, but at that moment you didn’t care about being cautious.

“Jimin, please let me take a look.” You kneeled in front of his bed but he didn’t say a word, thinking about whether to trust you or not.

After a couple of seconds, he decided to let you look at his injury, raising the edge of his shirt.

You gasped at the sight of the swollen and reddish cut that he had on his whole side.

“God, when did you get this?” You asked getting up quickly to pick some medication from your backpack but, as you expected, he stayed silent.

“Lay down, I’ll put some disinfectant on this because it’s already quite infected.” For your surprise, he did as you said, laying down on the mattress to let you cure that wound for him.

You tried not to look at his bony ribs as you gave Jimin a napkin to bite.

He looked at you confused.

“You need to bite this because it’s going to hurt a bit.” You said and he picked it up slowly from your hands, putting it between his teeth.

Him warming up at you was something that you were far from achieving, but you were happy that he decided to just trust you in this without hissing or snarling.

You muttered a quiet sorry before pouring the disinfectant on his huge cut, making him yelp loudly. His hands were holding onto the mattress tightly - so hard that his knuckles became white for all the strength that he was using.

You tried to medicate him as quickly as possible, in order not to hurt him that much but - unfortunately - it was inevitable.

He had waited to much time before medicating that wound and it was going to hurt badly for more than just 5 minutes.

With quick movements, you wrapped a bandage around his skinny waist and he closed his eyes breathing heavily, with drips of sweat all around his body.

You delicately put down his shirt to cover up his stomach, but he didn’t dare to look up at you.

Now he was just keeping his eyes closed with empty words stuck on his throat. After all he had lived, you were sure that it was going to take a long time for him to warm up at you but you were sure that it was going to happen at some point.

After a couple of minutes with his eyes closed, Jimin started to let out quiet snores that echoed through the room and you decided that it was time for you to leave.

You tucked him in carefully, leaving the room soon after that without putting on your jacket, that you had left intentionally on the floor near his bed.

When you went out, Namjoon was waiting for you near the exit.

“So? How did it go?” He asked opening the door to walk away with you close behind.

“Wel, he never spoke a word to me. I medicated him because he had an infected wound on his side and he passed out after yelping for the pain.” You said making him nod.

“The perfect meeting indeed.” He said making you scoff.

“What about you?” You asked and he smiled.

“Taehyung was extremely friendly. He hugged me almost instantly and he said that nw I’m his best friend. I just wrapped a piece of iron around his leg to keep it steel ad I asked him to rest without running around to much.” He explained tiredly.

“Was it difficult?” You asked and he nodded.

“Never spent so much energy ever since I did P.E. in school.” You laughed at his comment.

“I’m just wondering what should I do to help him warming up to me.” You said after a couple of seconds in silence.

“I also let there one of my hoodies, so that he gets to smell it while I’m away. Hopefully with that he’ll recognize me the next time without getting scared.” You said but Namjoon seemed like he was deep in his thoughts.

“What are you thinking about?” He looked up at you and you recognized a light in his eyes - almost as if a lightbulb had outbraved in them.

He laughed by himself, acknowledging his smartness before speaking up.

“I know what you can do.”

TAGS FOR WHOEVER WANTED TO BE TAGGED:

@thyotakukimkim @originalinfinity @lilshelbbts @chryskl

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blitzkrieg-mit-dem-fleischgewehr · 7 years

Text

The KISS Rule : chapter 2 (It)

Ludwig had missed the day the Frankfurt Documents had been presented to set the precedence for the establishment of what would be West Germany. He had also missed the drafting of his ‘new’ constitution which, in all reality, had probably saved him a lot of heartache and a bout of self-loathing. That was still a huge struggle...remembering that he needed to live with himself, that there was hope for him if Alfred F. Jones had chosen to drag him out of his cold utility room to a warm hotel so he could have some semblance of Christmas.

That day had felt like a dream-- a dream Ludwig felt he most certainly did not deserve. There had been more food than he’d been able to eat...alcohol, decorations, company... even a gift.

That gift.

Alfred really shouldn’t have bothered. Alfred should have left Ludwig to spend a fourth Christmas on his own. To reflect on all the atrocities his people, and indirectly he, had committed. The issue had been that there was no saying no to an insistent American. That resolve to leave the moment Alfred looked away, it had disappeared when he took in the sight of a Christmas Tree. It had disappeared when he had seen Alfred’s genuine smile and when he’d been given some Eierpunsch.

Ludwig’s life had been reduced to shades of grays, but that evening... Ludwig could vividly remember the smell of the room, the colour of the curtains, the feel of the box that held his gift. Momentarily, there had been colour in his life, and this was something that Ludwig thought would have been impossible from the moment Hitler had fired the first and last bullet into him.

The night had not been long. Ludwig had been the first to fall asleep- an easy task after he’d taken a seat on Alfred’s hotel bed. It had been difficult to keep his eyes open while Alfred chattered away about one story after another. Honestly, Ludwig had stopped following when he had realised that he was fighting a losing battle with his eyelids. If Alfred had noticed, he hadn’t said anything because before Ludwig had known it, it had been morning.

It had been one of those mornings that had been too perfect for it to be real. Ludwig had woken up with the first few strands of sun that had leaked through the poorly shut curtains. It must have been no more than seven thirty in the morning and even though the sun was not bright, it had made its morning appearance.

The room was silent.

Ludwig had decided to try and sleep a little longer because he knew when he returned to Tempelhof he would not be sleeping in a remotely comfortable bed. The one thing that had been preventing Ludwig from reuniting with sleep was the warm body he could feel next to him.

There had been a split second where Ludwig honestly did think Feliciano had managed to find his way back into his bed again. That was the warm body, besides Gilbert’s and the couple of times before unification with Roderich, that he remembered ever waking up to. However, Ludwig knew that it wasn’t possible. The moment he had lost Feliciano to the allies was the moment that he knew he wouldn’t be seeing the small Italian for a very very long time.

The body in question belonged to a nation that he wasn’t so familiar with and one that he was slowly coming to know. He had been able to hear Alfred’s even breathing and the warmth almost had Ludwig wanting to curl into it, to find comfort in another body after so long. Except... Ludwig knows better than to fool himself any more than he has when making that decision to stay for Christmas.

There in bed...facing Alfred, Ludwig realised that if he ever wanted to find any peace in his own mind, he needed to find some sort of desire to fight his own demons. It was a desire he had never felt- in fact Ludwig wanted his demons to win. He wanted to be exactly what everyone thought him to be, a monster. So he could justify his need to suffer, so he could hate himself more for letting Gilbert take the fall and be dragged away by Ivan. He wanted to justify the crazed need for Hitler to drive each and every one of those bullets into Ludwig’s body before his Fuhrer took the life of his wife before his own.

Ludwig should not feel warm...he should not be sleeping in this bed next to Alfred and think this was okay. And so, Ludwig does the one thing he has become quite adept at, he quietly slides out of bed, making sure not to disturb Alfred. He gathers all his things minus the gift Alfred had gotten him, Ludwig even tidies up the room before he moves to the corridor leading to the exit.

Something strange passes through Ludwig and he pauses at the frame of the archway into the corridor to take in, for the last time, Alfred’s sleeping figure. The American...he looked different...more sincere, more...more...Ludwig turns away. It didn’t matter, this was the last time Ludwig would let his guard down with anyone and the last time he would let Alfred kindly bully him into something nice like this.

Ludwig stealthily exits the room and without too much notice Ludwig is back on the streets of Berlin. Tempelhof was far but the walk would allow him to reflect and wallow all he needs before he settles back into some sort of manual labour.

That was the last time Ludwig saw Alfred in Berlin, mostly because Adenauer had come to Tempelhof himself to drag Ludwig back to Bonn. Apparently, Bonn had been chosen for the writing of this ‘new constitution’ -or as Adenauer called it, Grundgesetz. It was a term to avoid the acceptance that what was most likely to happen was the acceptance of the division of Germany.

It pained Ludwig...but he had avoided anything political because he felt it wasn’t his place anymore. It didn’t seem appropriate with what he once represented (or what most people associated him with) and who people assumed he was.

There had been no arguing with Adenauer, not that Ludwig would have argued with him much. The moment the man had appeared at Tempelhof Ludwig knew exactly what was happening. Despite being mostly numb, when it came to any big political decisions, Ludwig could feel it deep inside of him. He had suspected, and that suspicion had been proven right at Adenauer’s appearance.

Ludwig had spent the voyage back silent as he listened to things that were happening, things that they hoped would happen, and things that could happen. The one thing that Ludwig wondered was why Bonn...why the English occupation zone and not Frankfurt? Frankfurt seemed like the better option to host these political affairs.

Adenauer didn’t let Ludwig dwell on that thought a moment more, as he made sure to explain that the reason Bonn had been chosen was as a symbol that they weren’t accepting this division as permanent. That hosting these things in Frankfurt would somehow convey a feeling of permanency, and subsequently, defeat.

Ludwig was not sure where Adenauer was coming from...but that feeling of defeat in all forms was not something that had ever disappeared.

When that thought settled in, Ludwig turned to stare out the window and that officiated the end of their conversation. The only thing on his mind was that everything Gilbert had worked for, in terms of his unification, was being thrown in both of their faces.

Unification, apparently, had always been a faraway dream even after it’s conception in 1848...

-------

Ludwig had received the stink eye from Arthur when they did cross paths in Bonn. He should have known that he would run into the British nation here, it was his zone of his occupation after all, but he had hoped that the man would be back in London being unbearable over there rather than being unbearable here, in the same room as him.

“Back from vacation?” Arthur scoffs lightly.

Ludwig’s lips thin, Arthur knew that tempelhof was far from a vacation and that...yes, he hadn’t gotten approval but it had been better than sitting around and proof-reading and signing documents concerning reparations, defeat, and consequences. A large part of Ludwig wanted to just walk away from the Brit. However, he knew that would only irritate the man further than his successful escape from his custody.

It was clear Ludwig wasn’t going to answer Arthur’s derisive question and the only other reaction was Ludwig’s arched brow. This has Arthur’s brows knitting closer together, causing them to resemble the giant furry caterpillar he had heard many other nations refer to it as.

“Prime Minister Attlee wanted me to...” here Arthur’s lips thin, and it looks as if he has eaten something distasteful. “...show you to your new quarters now that you’ll be here in Bonn more.” Arthur’s brow raises and the caterpillar is severed at the waist. “Permanently.”

Ludwig’s expression hardens. “You don’t know that.”

Ludwig’s response only has Arthur’s brow arching higher. He hadn’t expected a response, Ludwig was known for never answering. Interacting with Ludwig always irritated Arthur because the Brit was never sure if Ludwig was purposely being mute to piss him off or if this was some strange coping mechanism. So, getting anything out of Ludwig was always a surprise.

“No, I don’t. This is true. But from what I’m told, at the moment it is.” Arthur replies.

That answer seems to ease Ludwig’s mind and he can’t help but let out a sigh.

Arthur takes this as his cue to reach for the door in front of them, open it, and usher Ludwig out.

Once outside Arthur can’t help but glance up at the silent German beside him, studying him quietly. He had spoken with Alfred about Ludwig...and he had honestly not gotten much out of the conversation. But, he had heard people, humans, talk briefly about a German mechanic and American pilot. Arthur knew that Alfred knew more about Ludwig than anyone else...but what exactly, he’s not sure.

Ludwig catches on to Arthur’s ‘discreet’ staring and he turns to look down at him unimpressed. “If you have something on your mind, you should just ask me.”

Arthur’s cheeks flare up briefly as he coughs nervously and then looks in front. “Nothing on my mind, nothing that concerns you.”

Ludwig just arches his brow.

Arthur frowns and he brings his hand to press insistently on Ludwig’s back so the man marches forward. Ludwig clearly tenses at the contact and when he can he shifts to the side out of Arthur’s reach. He doesn’t care if it offends Arthur, he would just rather not be touched.

This only has Arthur’s cheeks darkening in slight indignation but he doesn’t comment on it. It just makes him wonder how he handles Francis. “This way then...it’s a short walk.”

And, Arthur was right, it was short and it was located in a nice quaint location. The apartment wasn’t very big by any means. It was an old building that had survived the allied bombings and whoever had picked it out had managed to secure him a small one room apartment with a shared bathroom on the third floor.

Arthur didn’t linger but he did hand over the keys and explained everything that needed explaining. Ludwig had even thanked Arthur, to the man’s surprise, before the smaller man had left.

The moment alone in his new apartment has Ludwig both feeling relieved and immensely isolated. But...this was the start of something very new.

-----

The next week, in the small office he had been allocated, Ludwig enters to a familiar box resting on his desk. It had been amateurly re-wrapped in the same wrapping paper that Alfred had used for Christmas. He could see the wrinkled areas from when Ludwig had first opened it, and it had his chest aching.

Ludwig glances behind him to see if Alfred had brought it in himself or if it was someone else. He doesn’t have to look for long because a young brunette woman appears in front of Ludwig. “An American man dropped this off. He begged me to let him into your office. I hope you don’t mind, Herr Beilschmidt,” Frau Krause informs uncertainly.

There is no immediate reply from Ludwig as he turns to look back at the gift.

“He seemed very nice.” Frau Krause goes on to say.

“Thank you Frau Krause. It was fine.” Ludwig sighs. “If you’ll excuse me...I have work to attend to.”

Except...Ludwig wasn’t going to start on his work right way.

He steps into the office, closing the door behind him, as he makes his way to his desk and places his attache case beside the gift.

Ludwig already knows exactly what’s in the box. He remembers the gift clearly...and he remembers leaving it because he didn’t want to fight with Alfred about not accepting it.

For some reason, Ludwig is careful with the way he re-unwraps Alfred’s gift. On top of the pile of books was an envelope with his name on it. That was the one thing that had not been there before, but Ludwig can already guess why Alfred had placed it in the box.

Ludwig pulls it out and studies the front, then he turns it around to study the back. He exhales loudly from his nose before he’s carefully pulling the envelope open and pulling out the letter. Alfred’s unfamiliar writing assaults his eyes as he stares at it for a second.

Hey friend!

You forgot something, but no worries, got you covered. Back to you safe and sound. Didn’t get to say bye but I figured we’d hang out again some other time.

Hope you’re doing well, Ludwig!

See you soon,

Alfred

Ludwig stares at the letter for a few seconds more before he’s placing it gently to the side. He peers into the box and he pulls out ‘The Adventures of Tom Sawyer’ by Mark Twain. Ludwig gently traces the letters of the cover before he’s opening the cover to reveal more of Alfred’s handwriting.

Here's the first book I put in here. I thought what kind of genre does Ludwig even like? But then I decided to put just some of the most famous books from America- and some of my favorites. Maybe one of these books strike a chord with you.

This man was such a conundrum. It was not what he expected from the personification of America...and he’s not sure why? Ludwig knows that he had hoped that he wouldn’t like Alfred. That his jealousy of Alfred from when Gilbert spoke highly of him would be justified. That Alfred was in fact horrible and that Gilbert didn’t know what he was talking about.

Ludwig was also aware that those feelings...they came from a place of insecurity, of wanting Gilbert to himself. That Gilbert could only be his older brother and no one else's...and Ludwig knows that that was both unfair and illogical.

Now, Ludwig just didn’t know what to think of Alfred except that his past prejudices were definitely one hundred percent unwarranted.

There were four other books in the box : a Jack London book, Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell, a Robert Frost collection, and an Edgar Allan Poe collection.

Ludwig looks over each book before he’s carefully placing them all back in the box and tucking the box safely under his desk. He’d carry them home after work and shelve them somewhere in his small apartment. But right now, he had many things to read over, many things to approve or disagree with, and many, many things to sign (sometimes he couldn’t help feel that getting his signature was more a formality than a necessity).

They were long days but at least they kept him busy and distracted.

---------

The day had been long, almost too long. Ludwig was still getting used to being in an office and doing so much paperwork. Near the end of the way, Ludwig’s position had turned into more of an attache case (a literal object) to Hitler.

The sun was descending, it was still light out but it was almost a reddish-orange light. The Rhine looked beautiful and Ludwig always took to walking along the river rather than through the city. It was a calming feeling and because there was nothing much at his apartment, he was never rushed to get back home. That was also a first, not being in a rush and having to have his schedule set to a T.

The large box of books was tucked under one arm as he pauses by the railing to stare out at the waters. He glances up it and then down, before he’s looking across to the buildings on the other side. There were even large boats sailing down the Rhine with precious cargo for its next port. It was nice to see foreign vessels passing through again, even if the other European nations would rather isolate him if they had the choice and it wouldn’t ruin the continent even more than it was ruined now.

Luckily, that train of thought is put on hold when Ludwig suddenly hears the sound of whimpering. He freezes and then slowly straightens himself as he pivots slowly on his heel to face away from the river. He can still hear the whimpering...it was faint but it was a whimpering he had heard before.

Ludwig shifts the box under his arms as he tries to quietly take a step forward. In front of him, across the small gravel walkway, there is a long brick fence with overgrown vegetation. Along it, there was an old antiquated gate that hung crookedly on it’s hinges. The whimpering was definitely coming from there.

Behind the gate, along the stoned walkway, which was also overgrown by vegetation, there stood a fairly large brick house. It was clear that it was abandoned but it had somehow survived the war with little damage. Ludwig pauses just outside of the gate as he glances around to see if anyone was around before he’s placing the box of books on the ground and then opens the gate, flinching at the loud groan.

The sound seems to startle the creature whimpering and Ludwig freezes, standing still to see if he can avoid scaring it off. He’s not sure it works but when he steps more fully into the front yard, he spots the source of the whimpering.

Ludwig’s brows raise high and his lips curve downwards at the sight before him. It was a small malnourished and wounded German Shepherd puppy. It looks up at Ludwig so pathetically that it quite literally breaks the German’s heart. He knows better than to rush in, instead Ludwig slowly lowers himself until he’s practically kneeling in the grass. The pup looked alarmed and his whimpering increases (which was honestly not a good survival mechanism but Ludwig was too preoccupied to think that).

It was clear the puppy had no strength to run off and it was thinking that this was it, this large German man would be the one to finally off it. Of course, Ludwig would hardly ever kill an animal. In fact, realising that the puppy had no energy Ludwig shuffles closer and he turns his hand so his palm is up for the small puppy to sniff it.

There is a moment where it seems as if both Ludwig and the dog were holding their breaths and then after the puppy’s first sniff, the small Shepherd licks Ludwig’s palm.

At that very moment, Ludwig’s heart melts and he takes that as a go ahead to gently pet the pup. He gives the small dog some time to adjust to him before he’s gently lifting him up in his arms and at the sight of the dog, Ludwig wants to cry. However, he remains composed as he pulls his arms in close to cradle the dog against his chest.

The Shepherd seems to settle and soon Ludwig is exiting the yard and bending down to heave the box in his one free arm. An arm he had to free up by making sure the puppy would be comfortable. Ludwig was already thinking about what kinds of food he had in his kitchen that was edible for this starving dog.

There was no way he would leave it behind, never would he have left the puppy behind.

The walk back has Ludwig filled with thoughts of the poor Shepherd in his arms. He’s trying to get home fast so he can wash him, tend to him, and feed him. He doesn’t expect to find a certain American sitting on the steps to his apartment building waiting for him.

It’s Alfred’s voice that clues him in on his unexpected visitor. “Ludwig! Hey!”

When he looks up Alfred is waving frantically at him but then his waving slows down until Alfred’s hand is suspended in the air and Alfred is tilting his head and squinting at Ludwig. It’s at this point that Ludwig freezes and roots himself to the spot just in front of the gate leading up towards the staircase. It doesn’t matter though because Alfred springs up and he’s striding towards Ludwig with such purpose that it almost frightens him.

“Is that a pupper?” Alfred asks and it takes a moment for Ludwig to register what Alfred has asked him and the word that the man had used. He’s quite certain that’s not even proper English but he does glance down at his arms where the small pup does let out a whimper.

“Yes...it is.” Ludwig answers cautiously. He was almost afraid Alfred was going to tell him that he couldn’t keep the dog because he was too much of a monster. However, that’s not what happens at all.

“Oh no! What happened to the little guy?” Alfred steps a little closer, perhaps too closer for Ludwig’s comfort and the American is extending his hand for the Shepherd to smell as well. Then, to Ludwig’s surprise, the puppy licks Alfred’s hand too which has the American...giggling? Was that a giggle he had heard?

“He’s really cute. What are you gonna call him?” Alfred asks and he’s looking up at Ludwig with such big blue eyes it almost has the German stepping back. His cheeks darken lightly as he clears his throat so he can answer Alfred. “I...wanted to call him Otto…but I also thought about Fritz...because I know that’s what Gilbert would suggest.”

It’s at this point that Ludwig’s cheeks darken further.

Alfred’s expression softens just a little and his lips quirk higher up in a more beautiful smile. “Those names are pretty cool. I would have suggested something like, I don’t know, Detective Ruffers but the names you’re thinking are definitely better.”

Ludwig looks bewildered at the name and then he’s fighting off a smile, his lips curving up and then down and then back up and then finally back down before he’s clearing his throat again. “Interesting suggestion.”

It’s at this very moment that Alfred realises that Ludwig was carrying the box of books he’d left on his desk and he scrambles forward to pull it out of Ludwig’s arm. The action briefly surprises Ludwig and because he hadn’t expected Alfred to pull it out of his arms, he doesn’t loosen his hold and so he’s tugged forward centimetres away from bumping his nose against Alfred’s forehead. However, the moment Alfred straightens they are seeing more eye to eye.

“A warning would have been nice Alfred.” Ludwig sighs through his heated cheeks.

“Oh god...sorry man. I just realised that you had heavy books in your arms and a dog. I couldn’t have that.” Alfred explains, his cheeks also flushing lightly.

Ludwig does use this time to rummage in his pocket for his keys as he steps around Alfred and up the stairs to unlock the door. He holds it open for Alfred and gives him a pointed look but it seems as if the American doesn’t quite get what Ludwig is doing so he lets out a long sigh. “Are you coming or not?”

Alfred blinks at him before he’s smiling again and then he’s hopping up the stairs, turning his body just a little as he passes Ludwig to direct that smile at him before disappearing into the building. Ludwig merely shakes his head as he follows after Ludwig letting the door close behind him. Inside, they had three sets of long staircases to climb to get to his small apartment. In reality, Ludwig’s apartment was just a large room turned into a bedroom and a living space with a small kitchenette. It wasn’t extremely big it would do for now.

He passes Alfred so he can lead the man up the stairs. Ludwig doesn’t say anything but he fully expects Alfred to start speaking since Alfred seemed to have a problem keeping quiet.

“Can I help you with the pup?” Alfred asks as he stares at Ludwig’s strong back. “Please. I don’t like when animals are abandoned or abused.”

Ludwig doesn’t say anything and when they get to his door he quietly unlocks it before stepping in and holding the door for Alfred again. “You can put the box on the table.” Ludwig directs him and when he sees Alfred move to do it, Ludwig notices his shoes. “But! Take your shoes off first.”

This seems to startle Alfred and he moves back onto the small carpet and he slides them off before moving once again in the direction of the table. Ludwig pulls off his shoes before he’s carefully shifting the Shepherd in his arms and pulling him out to see the state of him. It was clear the dog was male...but he also hadn’t had food in a long time with how skinny he looked.

Ludwig’s heart breaks a little more as he pulls the puppy to his chest and gently pets it’s head and back. He’d need to wash him first.

While this was all happening, Alfred had placed the box of books down and he had turned around to watch Ludwig curiously. Ludwig only notices after he’s looked up from the puppy and he has intense blue eyes staring at him with emotions he can’t quite decipher.

“If you really do want to help can you fill the sink with warm water? I’ll see if I can find anything that can be used as shampoo for dogs. If not we’ll clean him with water as best as we can and I’ll pick something up tomorrow that’ll work better.” Ludwig asks and then explains, he’s already moving into his room to see if he had something in his storage. The Shepherd constantly in his arms as if Ludwig didn’t want to risk placing the pup on the floor for him to somehow break.

Ludwig didn’t wait for a reply but he does hear the tap sink turn on which clearly meant that Alfred was following orders. Good.

Ludwig comes out empty handed except for the puppy. He hadn’t planned for having a dog, which was surprising considering who he was, but that was mostly to do with the fact that he’d been so wrapped up in his misery to think of loving anything- much less a puppy.

“Waters ready, big guy!” Alfred grins as he motions at the half filled sink.

Even better, Ludwig didn’t have to tell Alfred not to fill it completely. Ludwig nods lightly as a thank you and he steps forward as he gently places the now whimpering puppy in the water. The Shepherd seems to whimper some more but Ludwig doesn’t let it bother him as he grabs a glass cup, fills it, and gently runs the water over the puppy’s back and the top of his head so the water can run down it’s neck.

Alfred hasn’t moved except to press himself to Ludwig’s back so he can peer over Ludwig’s shoulder and watch the puppy. He’s practically cooing into Ludwig’s ear which has the German’s lips thinning. “Alfred...some space please.”

Alfred pouts a little but he does move back and around the other side so he can look over the empty dish rack at the puppy.

Ludwig was very gentle with the Shepherd and he’s washing as much grime as he can off of him. The puppy seems to have calmed itself a little now that he’s realised that Ludwig meant no harm and this water wasn’t meant to hurt him.

“Alfred can you check in the icebox if I still have some meat...any kind of meat.” Ludwig asks as he glances over at him and then motions with his head to the small wooden box across the arch of the door leading into his room. There was a latch at the top that Alfred could open and inside was a block of ice and easily perishable foods.

Alfred does just that as he pulls out a bag with a couple of fat sausages in it. “I’ll cut this up and heat it up, sounds good?” Alfred asks Ludwig as he shakes the bag a little.

Ludwig glances over briefly before his attention is back on the puppy. “Yes, this sounds good. Thank you.”

And so they fall into a small bout of silence as Ludwig finishes up washing the puppy and Alfred cuts and heats up the meat in a frying pan.

Soon, the small pup was clean (or as clean as he would get for now), semi-dry and hunched over a small plate filled with warm and cut up pieces of meat and a small bowl filled with water.

Ludwig is trying to give the puppy some space even though he also wants to hover over the poor thing to make sure it was alright. It seemed as if Alfred had the same idea but Alfred is more interested in watching Ludwig...probably because this was the first time Ludwig had opened up so much without Alfred having to pry him open with a metaphorical crowbar.

Alfred gently grabs Ludwig’s wrist and pulls the bigger man back with him as he sits down on the couch and tugs Ludwig down beside him. Ludwig looks distracted and so when Alfred grabs his wrist he doesn’t react right away, in fact it seems as if he’s fine with the touch. When he’s sitting, only then does Ludwig’s cheeks flare up a little but again his gaze is on the puppy.

“He’s going to be alright, big guy. Especially if he has his big papa bear looking after him.” Alfred winks, laughing lightly and teasingly.

Ludwig’s cheeks darken at the teasing. “I worry about him.” He replies simply.

Alfred’s smile softens and he pats Ludwig’s shoulder affectionately. Alfred’s physicality was something that would take Ludwig a long time to become accustomed to, if he ever does.

“I’ve noticed you worry a lot. I’m surprised you haven’t gone grey.”

Ludwig’s brows knit together. “Alfred, we’re nations. You know that’s not how it works.”

“Yeah, but I’m still surprised you haven’t gone grey.”

Ludwig sighs and shakes his head. “I’m going to go grey dealing with you.”

This seems to tickle Alfred because he laughs loudly which startles the pup. Alfred gasps and brings his hands over his mouth as he tries to stifle more laughter. “You’d probably still look good grey.” Alfred manages to say between his fingers and laugher.

Ludwig wasn’t sure what he expected but that comment was not one of them. His flush spreads to the tip of his ears as he gets up off the couch and moves to lay down beside the Shepherd who, after finishing his food, trots over to Ludwig, tail wagging wildly, as he licks Ludwig’s face.

This has Ludwig laughing lightly, his walls down thanks to the puppy, as he lets the small animal lick his face.

Alfred coos loudly again. “He loves you!”

Ludwig grabs up the pup, lifting it over his head as he smiles up at him.

It was such a handsome moment that Ludwig misses the flush that spreads over Alfred’s cheeks. The puppy yaps in delight and then Ludwig brings it down onto his chest to gently stroke it’s back. It would take a couple of days before the pup has recovered his strength.

Ludwig does lift his head up from the floor as he eyes Alfred with an arched brow.

Alfred still looks a little flushed as he fiddles with his shirt. “You should give him a name now.”

Ludwig lays his head back down as he really thinks about a name for the puppy. Said puppy wiggles forward until it’s pressing it’s wet snout against Ludwig’s neck which has Ludwig laughing, a genuine laugh.

The puppy wiggles even further against his neck before he’s lifting his head and lick at Ludwig’s chin. Ludwig laughs a little more before he’s grabbing the pup up and placing him back down on his chest. “I think I will call him Otto. When Gilbert and I are reunited...we can pick a dog out together and I’ll let Gilbert name that one.”

It was clear Ludwig wouldn’t give up on the idea that Gilbert and he would be reunited again. It was probably one of the only things that kept Ludwig going.

Alfred looks a little melancholic at this point but he brightens up quick enough. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. So little Otto. Cute name.”

Ludwig is glad that he misses the moment Alfred’s grin slips off his face. It would just have him spiralling back into his depression even with his newfound companion.

Alfred slides off the couch and he moves to lay beside Ludwig. This has Ludwig arching a brow as he glances over unsure why Alfred would do that and also wondering why Alfred didn’t adhere to personal space but he doesn’t say anything about it. Mostly because Alfred yawns distracting Ludwig from his thoughts.

“Can I hold Otto?” Alfred asks.

Ludwig lets the question hang for a good minute before he’s gently picking Otto up and passing the pup to Alfred.

Alfred looks ecstatic and he’s cooing the puppy, petting the puppy and giggling as Otto bestows puppy kisses over his face. Ludwig turns onto his side propping his head up on his hand as he watches Alfred.

There it was again...that desire to kiss Alfred. Ludwig’s cheeks heat up and before he gets carried away he turns back on his back, sits up, and then pushes himself up and off the ground.

Alfred blinks up at Ludwig when he notices this but doesn’t say anything.

“Can you watch Otto? I’m going to see if I can buy a few last minute things for him.” Ludwig breathes out as he grabs his wallet, moves towards the door, slipping on his shoes and then turns to Alfred. “I won’t be too long.”

Alfred can only nod in slight confusion before Ludwig disappears. Otto seems distressed by Ludwig’s disappearance and he lets out a small whimper but Alfred soothes the puppy’s nerves with more affection and attention.

In reality, the reason Ludwig had left was to get a bit of fresh air. He knew that the chances of something being open was probably slim but it was also worth a try, in case there really was something. It turns out everything was close, as he suspected.

When Ludwig returns to his apartment, he finds Alfred fast asleep on the couch with an equally sleeping Otto. Ludwig is quiet as he slips out of his shoes, locks the door, and hangs up his keys.

There it was again...the difference in Alfred awake and Alfred sleeping. Ludwig’s not sure what comes over him but he does move over to gently slip Alfred’s glasses off his face and places them on the small coffee table. Alfred mumbles something but he doesn’t wake.

Ludwig can’t help but stare at the American and to his surprise he reaches out and gently pushes some of his hair from his face. Ludwig sighs as he moves to his room, grabs an extra blanket, gently lifts the sleepy Otto from Alfred as he places the puppy down on the floor and then covers Alfred up in the blanket. He tucks him in carefully and somehow manages to slide a pillow under Alfred’s head.

The man was probably exhausted from all the work he has to do...and the jetlag. Ludwig glances at Alfred one last time before he scoops Otto up into his arms and heads into his room to sleep.

Ludwig was starting to realise that Alfred was becoming someone special to him, faster than anyone else had. He would have included Gilbert...but Gilbert was always just a brother, this...whatever it was that was happening, was far in the opposite direction from brotherly affection.

This was not good.

#APH Germany #APH America #GerAme #historical hetalia #APH England #APH Prussia #puppy!

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