#the only plot i can think of is essentially a s4 rewrite in this verse and idk i feel like that would be boring so

[clairenatural]

~900 words, destiel, reverse!verse. this is a continuation of my suptober reverse!verse here, with demon!dean and hunter!cas. It’s been sitting unfinished in my drafts for a month because I wanted to continue it but honestly I can’t figure out an overarching plot for these two so I figured I’d at least post this :)

Dean barely registers the motel door swinging open before a book is being thrown at his head. “Ow! Cas, what the fuck,” he growls, and prepares to retaliate, but Castiel has the look of pure fury on his face that always manages to render Dean motionless. 

They’ve only been on the road a few days, but Dean already hates it.

“You’re not a Knight,” Cas spits out, gesturing at the tome of lore that has just bounced off Dean’s skull. “The Knights are all dead. Cain killed them all.”

Dean rolls his eyes and bends to pick up the book, frowning down at the illustration of Cain slaughtering the rest of them. He remembers that day too well. “Yeah, well,” he mutters, snapping the book shut. “He didn’t kill me.”

“And why didn’t he?”

Dean sighs and tosses the offending tome onto the other bed, across from him. “You know we were all human once, right? All demons. Just souls who ended up in Hell, and I--well. I was there because of a deal.”

“A deal,” Castiel repeats, not following.

“Yeah, dumbass, a deal. Like one of those crossroads scams. But I made a deal with Lucifer himself--my eternal service for my baby brother’s life. Cain always kinda liked me for that, I think. He did the same thing, you know?”

Castiel stares at him, not buying it. “Cain murdered his brother.”

“Yeah, to save his soul.”

“The Bible says--”

Dean cuts him off with a scoff. “Come on, man.” He yanks open the drawer of the bedside table and pulls out the Bible stored there. “This?” he gestures with the book before giving it the same unceremonious toss as the one that had been thrown at him. As if on instinct, Castiel flinches. “First rule, Cas. Don’t believe everything you’ve read.”

The hunter is fidgeting with the cross hanging around his neck again--a nervous habit, Dean’s noticed. “So...” he starts, after a long moment. “What did happen?”

Dean shrugs. “Lucifer had a claim on Abel’s soul, Cain made a deal to replace him in Hell and let him go to Heaven, and the devil said yes, but only if Abel died by his brothers hand. You know the rest.” He says this as if it’s basic knowledge.

“And you---and your brother?”

Dean shakes his head. “No--God, no. Sammy was just a kid, you know? He deserved to live longer. That’s it.”

For the first time in the conversation, Castiel crosses the room to sit on the motel bed across from him. “And you didn’t?”

And also for the first time in the conversation, Dean is at a loss of what to say. He looks down, but he can feel Castiel still staring at him, and he hates it. He doesn’t know who this human thinks he is, staring into the very core of him like that. 

“Didn’t have much goin’ for me, up here,” he replies, finally, because anything else would be too raw and honest. “Figured I’d take my chances downstairs. And hey,” he looks back up at Castiel and grins, hoping the other man won’t be able to see through his regained composure. “For a while, it was fun as Hell.” He leans into the pun like a crutch.

Castiel seems undeterred. He frowns. “And after all that, Cain let you....walk away.”

Dean nods at him but has to look away again. There’s something about devout humans that always makes his skin crawl, but Castiel...his gaze burns like Holy water.  “As long I promised him I’d lay low. Stop the endless killing. So...I did.” He glances down at his hands. “Throwing your brother across the room was the most fun I’ve had in a while.” 

He looks back at Castiel, expecting to be chastised for calling it “fun,” but the human is staring at him with an expression of mild shock. Dean knows that look. It means he’s been underestimated. 

He both loves and hates it.

They hold eye contact until Castiel breaks it with a sigh, and suddenly he’s refusing to meet Dean’s eyes. “I did that, too,” he starts. “I took a deal to save my brother. My youngest brother.”

Dean smiles. “I know, Cas. Why do you think I chose you?”

And, well. Apparently Castiel doesn’t really have an answer to that, because they just sit there for a moment, staring at each other again, before he sucks in a breath and tears his eyes away. “He died anyway, though,” Castiel continues, quietly. Uneasy, Dean thinks. Or maybe just...unsure. “I sold my soul for Samandriel, and he was saved, but he died again, anyway. Three months later, And there was nothing I could do. I prayed, too, but--but nobody could help me.”

“I knew that, too.” Dean leans in, smirking again. He remembers hearing about it like Castiel was some goddamn celebrity. The demon who made the deal bragged about it. It was like getting a free soul, he said. It had almost made him blow his cover, just to teach the guy a lesson. "Doesn’t that just make you want to burn it all to the ground?” 

Castiel looks up and looks at him for another long minute. He leans in to mirror Dean. “Yes,” he finally replies, tone now completely even. “Yes, it does.”