Writing's on the Wall Destiel

Chapter 12

A few weeks later

Castiel leaned against the wall, hopelessness clouding his normally bright blue eyes, making them seem dim and grey. His hand shook with anger and betrayal. It wasn't his problem?! his mind angrily screamed. "Maybe....Joshua was lying."

"I don't think he was, Cas," Sam said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Castiel dipped his head, closing his eyes in disappointment. He turned towards Dean and handed his amulet back. "I don't need this anymore. It's worthless."

He ignored the pained look in Dean's eyes as he turned his gaze skyward. "You son of a bitch. I believed in......" His tongue no longer found the courage to say anything. His mind no longer responded. He didn't know it at the time, but he was physically undergoing shutdown mode.

Suddenly he seemed more fragile than he looked. He seemed to have shrunk further back into his trenchcoat and he was no longer as confident before. His judgement was overcome with doubt, about the situation, about his beliefs, about himself. And really, who could blame him? Once someone finds out that what they believe in is gone, what else can they do but start to disbelieve everything else?

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Cas-"

He whirled away and faced a startled Sam. "Don't touch me."

Sam gulped and stepped back, suddenly intimidated by the flashing look of anger and hurt in his friend's eyes. "Okay, okay."

Castiel glared at him for a second more and disappeared. He found himself in the middle of town, not too far from Bobby's house. He walked to a nearby bench and sat down, burying his face in his hands.

He heard the fluttering of wings beside him and groaned. "What do you want, Gabriel?"

"What, am I not allowed to check on my little brother?" Gabriel sat down beside him. "I take it you've heard the news?"

"Yes." Castiel sighed into his hands and looked into blank space. "Why is it not his problem? Our father is a fair and just being. Why would he allow this to happen?"

"That, I can't answer, Castiel. And besides, it's not really my place to say. But come on! You think sitting here and whining about the piss poor future of our current problem is going to help? Ding, ding, ding, and we have a winner! Nope, it's not going to help. So how about you get up and see if there's something you can do about it?"

Letting out a breath through his nose, Castiel stood up, ready to follow Gabriel when he realized he disappeared.

"Cas?"

He turned to see Dean slamming the door of his car shut. "Dean. How did you find me?"

"Actually, I didn't. I just...saw you over here." Dean shoved his hands in his pockets, clearly uncomfortable. "Listen, uh-"

"I'm sorry, for what I did earlier to Sam. It wasn't right of me, regardless of how I feel."

"Nah, it's alright. I'm sure Sam understands. But hey." Castiel could sense Dean's hand wanting to rest on his shoulder, so he let it. "If you ever want to talk, I'm here for you, okay, Cas?"

"Thank you. Same to you."

"Right. So..we're good?"

"We're good."

They started on the way back to the car. Their hands subconsciously entwined with each other's, but they didn't notice, nor did they care. All they knew was that it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, indeed a profound bond that would give fo something greater.

The drive back was uneventful. Runnin by Adam Lambert was playing as they drove back. Halfway, Dean turned down the radio and looked at Castiel, who was slumped against the window. "How are you holding up?"

Castiel shrugged, a tiny motion against the window. "For the first time, I feel....broken."

Dean did not know what to say to that, so he focused on the road.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you ever feel like running away from something because you don't have a leader anymore?"

"All the time. I'm not as decisive as I seem to you, Cas. I ain't exactly a role model."

Castiel took his head from the window, casting a look at Dean. "That's not true."

Dean glanced at Castiel for a few seconds before looking at the road. "What makes you say that?"

"Sam has been looking to you since his childhood and he grew up caring and strong. You were his example."

"He's my little brother, it's my job. Nothing special."

"That is something special," countered Castiel with honesty in his eyes.

The Impala pulled over and Dean took his hands from the wheel. "You feeling okay, about God and..,things? Because you've never gotten this deep with me."

Castiel zeroed in on a spot in front of him. His face contorted with melancholy, longing and confusion. "How do you bear it?"

"Well, on a good day you get to kill a whore." Dean didn't notice that his hand had somehow found its way onto Castiel's. "Other days, I barely get through it by the skin of my teeth. You just...gotta smile, you know? Keep your game face on. Smile because you're alive and that's your job. Do it today, and do it again tomorrow."

His eyes met Castiel's, so blue and brimming with hope. For the first time, Dean noticed how beautiful the angel truly was. At the same time, Castiel was gazing at Dean softly, wondering how his soul was so bright, bright enough to rival anyone's even after all he'd seen. He realized that Dean was not only a hero, but a survivor.

And so on they drove, their minds racing ahead. Dean could not keep his mind off of a certain angel, one whom wore a dirty tan trench coat and had blue eyes and tousled dark hair, one who he'd die for in a second. And as for Castiel? Well, he was staring out the window of the Impala at the falling rain, trying to ignore the fact that he was slowly falling in love with Dean Winchester.