Sam wakes up staring at the empty sky, which is washed out by light pollution and oddly similar to the feeling that he's missing something in his middle. Like someone's gone in and taken an organ out while he was sleeping. Unsolved Mysteries, urban legend of iced bath tubs, and shouldn't he care more about what is happening? But he's consumed with an overwhelming feeling of--not peace, not exactly--just a contented sense of Who Gives a Shit.
He sits up, whipping his too-long hair out of his eyes. He's in a wooded glen, surrounded by rotting logs that splay out from him, the center of some strange, long-ago explosion. Sam remembers Dean describing his return from Hell. Is this the same forest? Is this the same suicidal rescuer?
Sam finds Castiel on the ground, a few yards away, shivering in his singed trench coat. The angel tries to speak, stares up at Sam with pleading eyes, but it looks like his trip back from the Cage has taken a lot out of him. So Sam speaks for him. Crouches down and clamps his fingers to the bolt of Cas's jaw.
"You forgot something back there," he says, and his smile is cold.
"I tried," Castiel chokes out. "The armies of Hell, they were too--"
"Shut up." Sam examines those wide eyes, that pained face. "Next time you want to run an errand for Dean, don't start something you can't finish." He covers Cas's cracked lips with his own whole, hot mouth. Not because he needs to, but because he can. Nothing is stop you once you stop caring about consequences.
"Sam, don't." Cas gasps into the cup of Sam's huge palm, his breath wet against the skin.
There are some things Castiel can't ever tell Dean, Sam realizes. "I lost your baby brother's soul" is one of them, because "I would fall for you" is another. But "your brother has returned as a monster" is the one that interests Sam the most, because without that being said, Sam can do as he pleases.
He tugs at Castiel's necktie, guiding his head firmly down until he's nosing at the hardness rising in Sam's jeans.
"Let's see you finish some things," Sam says, his voice light as air.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2011-12-12 04:41 am (UTC)Sam wakes up staring at the empty sky, which is washed out by light pollution and oddly similar to the feeling that he's missing something in his middle. Like someone's gone in and taken an organ out while he was sleeping. Unsolved Mysteries, urban legend of iced bath tubs, and shouldn't he care more about what is happening? But he's consumed with an overwhelming feeling of--not peace, not exactly--just a contented sense of Who Gives a Shit.
He sits up, whipping his too-long hair out of his eyes. He's in a wooded glen, surrounded by rotting logs that splay out from him, the center of some strange, long-ago explosion. Sam remembers Dean describing his return from Hell. Is this the same forest? Is this the same suicidal rescuer?
Sam finds Castiel on the ground, a few yards away, shivering in his singed trench coat. The angel tries to speak, stares up at Sam with pleading eyes, but it looks like his trip back from the Cage has taken a lot out of him. So Sam speaks for him. Crouches down and clamps his fingers to the bolt of Cas's jaw.
"You forgot something back there," he says, and his smile is cold.
"I tried," Castiel chokes out. "The armies of Hell, they were too--"
"Shut up." Sam examines those wide eyes, that pained face. "Next time you want to run an errand for Dean, don't start something you can't finish." He covers Cas's cracked lips with his own whole, hot mouth. Not because he needs to, but because he can. Nothing is stop you once you stop caring about consequences.
"Sam, don't." Cas gasps into the cup of Sam's huge palm, his breath wet against the skin.
There are some things Castiel can't ever tell Dean, Sam realizes. "I lost your baby brother's soul" is one of them, because "I would fall for you" is another. But "your brother has returned as a monster" is the one that interests Sam the most, because without that being said, Sam can do as he pleases.
He tugs at Castiel's necktie, guiding his head firmly down until he's nosing at the hardness rising in Sam's jeans.
"Let's see you finish some things," Sam says, his voice light as air.