Crazy Mind -Destiel-

12- Playing with magic

The sound of a motel door slamming shut from somewhere outside is how Dean realise he's awake. He can feel the vibrations of sound before he can see where the disturbance actually came from. He stretches and can feel the movement slither from his neck to his toes as if each joint is being held together by a string. It's a sensation he's never felt before, to feel everything so intensely. Eyes still closed he follows the shadows and flares of light that force their way in. 

He can see the outline of his body, his mind like an x-ray piercing the skin and dissecting him. He falls through each section until he reaches a knot of muscle and scar tissue and he prods it. A spark stuns him momentarily triggering a dull ache he didn't realise was there. He prods the ball again and this time the spark is absorbed, it flows deep within the lump until the lump deflates and melts into the skin the spark disappearing with it. The pain burns him, viscously snapping at any small imperfections it finds and ripping them from his skin. He feels his chest tighten, his skin burn and there's only light scorching hot and brighter than the sun, consuming him and pulling him closer into the light.

"Dean?"

His body jerks so suddenly and violently that his eyes snap open. His eyes dart, wincing at the light, his eyes aching and the headache that's formed behind his eyes doing nothing to help ease it before he lands on the reason for his awakening. Dean groans as he pushes himself up only then realising that he's holding onto Castiel's wrist. He snatches his hand away, then coughs once then twice and swallows around the lump in his throat. Castiel frowns as he waits for Dean to adjust to reality.

"Dean, what were you doing?" He asks seriously. Dean's hands clench by his side. "Well I was sleeping," Dean rubs the sleep dust out of his eyes but Castiel continues to watch him with a weary expression. "What?" Dean urges. Castiel gives him a once over as if he knows something's wrong he just can't figure out what it is. "Dean you were expelling grace in your sleep."

Dean's mouth opens only to close again. "What the hell? How?" He glances at his hands half expecting to see sparks of light shoot from his palms. Castiel scans Dean's face, his eyebrows furrowing. "I-" He hesitates his gaze slipping from Dean's face as he chews on the inside of his cheek an obscenely human gesture.

"I think it was reacting to me?" He pauses. "However, my grace is no longer my own now it has been in your body."

Dean shakes his head lightly holding up his hand to quiet Castiel. "Wait. So you're saying I stole your grace and made it.. what? My own?"

"Not exactly Dean. I used my grace in order to heal you but it never should have been consumed by you. It's not your grace but it's not mine either."

"Great so we're basically dealing with some junked-up version of angel mojo that is trying to escape from my body."

Castiel considers Dean's words before shrugging. "Yes in a way." Dean drags a hand down his face, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead and burrowing back into the scratchy warmth of the bed covers. "Any sign of Bobby?" Dean hears Castiel shuffle on the spot. "He's nearly back, I checked his location while you slept." 

Slowly and reluctantly, Dean uncovers his face. He blinks, closes his eyes, and blinks again. Sitting up he drags his feet off the bed, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes. He glances up at Castiel with a frown, chewing on the inside of his cheek. There are so many unresolved problems between them he doesn't know where to start. Castiel's an angel, an unstoppable force, Dean can't exactly order him to tell him every detail of his whereabouts. Dean sighs stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. He steps off the bed and walks towards the bathroom. "Hey, Cas do you know if we have any bre-" Dean stops dead in his tracks. Wait.