You Soar & You Drown (Destiel AU)

Chapter Twelve

OMG I really like this chapter for some reason, idk why, I just do :)

“Crowley had never killed any of the angels. The king of hell had made them a deal. He got Castiel in hell, and they got to have the demons leave them alone for the next five hundred years. It wasn’t a high price to pay—for him, of course.”

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Dean Winchester stared at the ceiling numbly, clutching a mug of coffee and listening dully to the quiet background noise of the TV. Sam had thrown a blanket over him before he left for school, but Dean couldn’t quite register the feeling of it against his legs and chest. He just lay there on the couch, like he had been for the last four months since Cas died. Nothing had disturbed them—no angels, no demons, nothing. Nobody called about cases. Sam still bought the local newspaper, but there was nothing suspicious in there, nothing.

They’re probably all down in hell. Torturing my angel.

Gabriel had told them about the deal the angels had made with Crowley before he left. He’d also taken Dean aside and told him what Cas had said. He’d remained dry-eyed the whole time, which really surprised him, but soon after that the tears came, when he was lying in bed and he rolled over to plant a sleepy kiss on Cas’ lips, but he wasn’t there. When he went into the living room to invite Cas to go out for a beer, and the angel wasn’t sitting on the couch. When he expected to hear Cas blundering around trying to adjust to the human ways, and when he listened and there was nothing, that was when the tears came. Great big tubs of them. But somehow he never ran out. Dean Winchester wasn’t a crier—he hadn’t cried in a long, long time. But when Cas died, it was as if all those years’ worth of tears came back and spilled out. He just couldn’t stop.

He did it because of me. It was my fault. He did it because he loved me.

All I want is for him to be here again. Just one last time. Please.

Dean wiped furiously at his eyes as he felt more tears coming on. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t.       

For the first time in days, he flung the blanket away, turned the TV off, and went into his bedroom. He and Sam had rented a house for the school year (with Gabe’s help, of course), and it was nice having a room with its own bathroom and shower, and not having to share his pain with a roommate.

Dean undressed and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run across his skin, loosening his muscles and washing the dirt away. He didn’t let himself think about Cas, or the way his wings had looked charred into the ugly gray rug in their cabin. He didn’t think about how he’d been touching those wings, kissing and petting them, just days before his angel died.

He was going to find Crowley. And kill him.

Dean got out of the shower and started to get dressed. Just as he was pulling his shirt on, someone started screaming. They were awful, terrible screams, and obviously male, and they just kept going on and on and on. Dean ran out of the bedroom into the hallway, holding his head and flinching as the screams got louder and louder. He ran through the living room and darted outside. The afternoon sunlight nearly blinded him after days of sitting inside thinking about Cas. He looked around wildly, searching for the source of the screams. The neighbors didn’t seem to hear anything—they were all sitting calmly on their porches, reading the newspaper or something like that. School was letting out just about now. But nobody seemed to hear the cacophony of noise that echoed in Dean’s mind.

That was when he realized that it was all in his head. Because the voice was Castiel’s, and he was screaming for Dean.

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