Hunting Season // A Destiel Fanfic (AU)

Too Nice?

Wednesday // 8:15 pm
Either there are, or there was before him. And he doesnt want to think of what could have happened to whatever angel was here before him. The thought of Dean's threat, of the axe in his hands, threatens to make his mask twitch for a moment, but it doesnt. He keeps it in place.

Dean shook his head, "My brother has one... And he's rough as fuck to him; I feel slightly sorry for the poor angel." Dean didn't like talking about his brother, after his fight with him about how wrong it was to control an angel, but he couldn't even be mad at him anymore since he purchased an angel of his own.

Dean stands up glancing behind Castiel to check up on his wings. He gently placed his hands on them, trying not to touch the wounds, "Does the rope hurt? I'll replace them with something softer if you want..." Why was he being nice? What happened with the rough facade? Maybe it was Castiel condition?

Castiel actually winces at the touch. It stings. Even the places without cuts are severely bruised and even broken in a few places. Not from the ropes, but from the man who had him before Dean. He enjoyed watching Castiel scream in pain as he ruined his wings. That was the breaking point for him when he lost all hope of not being in pain for the rest of his life. "I can handle the rope," Castiel answers honestly. It hurts, but he can take it. He can take a lot now. He isnt sure if he is strong or it's just because he is broken now and doesnt have the energy to even suffer.

Dean nodded and took his hands off them once he heard the man wince. He then grabbed the axe and rested it on his sounder as if it were a baseball bat and opened the door, "Let's see how good you are at chopping firewood..."

Castiel stands and follows Dean, eyes on the ground again. He doesnt speak unless spoken to.

Dean then closed the door behind them and lead Castiel to a greet stump that had many cuts and groves to show how much it's been used as a 'cutting board'.

Dean placed a long thinned log upright on the stump and held out the axe, handle towards Castiel, "Try a few... and cut them into quarters..."

Castiel cuts the log in half, but he overestimated the amount of force needed. The axe gets stuck part way in the stump and the two pieces of log go flying. He also stumbles a tad, the effort of the swing weakening him.

Dean walked around and grabbed the pieces. He then took one half and placed it back on the stump. He then stepped back to watch Castiel.

Castiel takes a deep breath and gets the axe back out, using less force this time as he splits it. The swing still makes his body ache, but he manages to look normal now.

Dean smiled softly and crossed his arms, his muscles flexing a bit more. Dean then nodded, "Alright, Continue chopping and I'll fetch some clothes..." Dean then went back inside.
Dean came back out with clean light gray boxers and an old button up flannel. He notices how Castiel was swaying a little and walked toward him, "Here ya go buddy, "I don't know how you wear shirts, but I got you something to cover up your dick..."

"Thank you," Castiel murmurs and sets down the axe, swaying a tiny bit still as he takes the clothes. Most of his owners hadnt allowed him to wear clothing. "Do you want me to put them on now?"

Dean nodded, "You can if you want. Just don't want you getting too cold out here."

Dean then gently patted Castiel's shoulder, "Come back inside with twelve when you're done chopping..." Dean then made his way inside to begin cooking dinner.

Wednesday // 8:45 pm

Castiel gets dressed and chops the rest of the wood, feeling dizzy by the time he finishes. He gathers them, carrying them inside with him.

Dean glanced back when he hears the door close before looking back at the large pan that had some meat on it- sizzling. "Put some in the fireplace and start it will you? There's a box of matches on the counter..."

Castiel nods and does as he is told, putting wood in the stove and starting the fire. It takes a few tries but he gets it, closing his eyes and trying to catch his balance again.

Dean nodded, "Like Venison?" He stirred the carrots and potatoes in a different pot.

Castiel opens his eyes and stands. "I dont know." Usually, he is fed whatever scraps his owner doesnt want.

Dean sighed, "Well do you know if you're allergic to anything at least?" Dean then jerked his head in a 'come here' motion. "Keep an eye on the food... I gotta search my pantry for spices."

"I dont know," Castiel says again. "What do you want me to do with it?" He asks as he looks at the food.

Dean walked away to open a few cupboards, "Just turn it over every now and again with the spoon—turn it off if it starts to get burnt."

Castiel does as he is told, making sure it doesnt burn. "What... what are you going to want me to do for you?"

Dean continues to search for certain spices, "Hmm? Well the least I want you to do is help me anyway you can considering your physical state... simple things probably like chop wood, feed the fire, help cook, etc... why?—Is that not what you want?"

"I can do those things," Cas says, keeping his eyes on the food. He knows that probably isn't everything he will end up having to do.

Dean finally found them and walked up to sprinkle some on the meat then the others in the vegetables including salt and pepper. Dean made a small smile at Cas as he turned the stove off. "Wanna get the table ready?"

"Yes, sir," Castiel murmurs and looks around. "Where are your plates and things?"

"Top cabinet next to the fridge and the drawer near the coffee machine..." Dean glanced at Castiel.

Castiel sets the table. He has done that before. Usually he does housework like this. "It's set, sir."

Dean nodded and grabbed a large platter plate to place the Venison in the center and chopped it up into thin slices before circling it with the cooked vegetables. Once it was done, having a very thin layer of gravy on it Dean brought it over to the table, setting it in the center. "Eat up~" Dean then began to fill up his own plate before sitting down and beginning to eat.

Castiel stands, unsure if he can sit down at the same table. His mouth waters from the smell. "You want me to sit?" He asks, unsure.

Dean peered up and nodded. He swallowed before speaking, "Where else? You're not a dog..." Dean then got up to grab some beer for himself before going back to the table.

Castiel doesnt mention that even he can see the irony in that, seeing as he has a collar and a tracker on. Instead he sits and hesitates before putting a little of the food on his plate and eating it hungrily.

Dean glanced at Castiel and how he eats. Dean then continued to eat, focusing on his own plate and beer. "How was your day?" Dean didn't like the silence, but didn't know what to say...

Castiel's stomach rumbles when he finishes but he is too afraid to get more, not wanting to push his luck. He hesitates, unsure how to answer. "Alright? I guess," he murmurs.