For Dean - A beating

[godless_son]

It had taken a little convincing.

Granted, the spot is still a little worse for the wear. The scorch marks have grown over patchy and sparse and there are still trees half felled, missing branches and some altogether missing. It was very nearly the end of them and he understands Dean's reticence, but he has loved this place since his arrival in Darrow. The loves the seclusion and the quiet and the birds. He loves that Annie can run off her leash. It is a truly glorious spring afternoon and he sprawls out, taking more than his fair share of the blanket as he rests his head on Dean's chest, listening to the rhythmic sound of his heart. It is warm enough to resume stealing Dean's old t-shirts and he closes his eyes at the feel of the sun on his arms. It is not as warm as it once was, but even through the veil of his grace, he finds it comforting. They have not had many peaceful moments in the past months, and he intends to enjoy this as long as it lasts.

He blinks up at the bright sun, squinting a little as it causes an ache behind his eyes. It is really very, very bright.

Comments

[always_enduphere]

The change is immediate, but Dean waits before crowding into the now safe space in front of Castiel. He slings his sword onto his back and bends for the waterbottle they've been splitting all afternoon, coming forward slowly to offer it up.

"Here," he says. "Drink something, okay?"

[godless_son]

He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before speaking. "Are you hurt?" he manages, cowering back even as he scans Dean's face. "Its all...it's confusing, did I hurt you? What did I do to you..."

He trails off, remembering with perfect clarity the four hundred seventy he'd already slaughtered.

[always_enduphere]

"You tried to stab me in the heart," says Dean, letting Castiel look at him. He's as whole as he'd been ten minutes ago, however much heartache passed inbetween, that much is plain.

"You said they wouldn't let you stop until you killed me, but we stopped you." Dean touches the hilt of the sword hovering near his shoulder. "The sword took the hits, Cas, not me."

[godless_son]

"They're going to make me kill you," he murmurs, feeling slow and stupid and somehow still panicked. He is in shock, he thinks as he presses a hand to his own chest. "This grace is diseased. I should tear it out while I still have time but we...I promised you. Do you still feel the same?"