Supernatural Fiction & Art

Title: Finding Faith
Author: Lopaka Tanu
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
Characters: Dean, Castiel.
Words: 2214
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: Teen
Spoilers: 4x10 - Heaven and Hell
Warnings: Language, Violence.
Summary: In times of crises, the truth will out.
Author's Note: Set immediately after 4x10, but assumes the battle and confession happened the same day.
______________________________________


It was near midnight. Dean knew, as it wasn't five minutes since the last time he checked his watch. The metal felt cool against his skin.

Shining through the blinds, the security light divided his face in to fields of visible and shaded. The only illumination in the motel, it was more than enough to make out the sleeping form of his brother's back.

Sam's breath came heavy in the quiet of the room. Sweat glistened on the damp skin of his back and shoulders. The fan had died two hours ago, taking with it the only source of relief.

Shivering, Dean pulled his jacket closer to his body. His thoughts were disjointed, bringing up pieces of everything and nothing at all. While he took a drink of water, a memory of his first adult glass came back to him.

He had been three, that was the only year his mother had worn the golden locket. She had lost the clasp for the chain a week before he turned four. Dad had promised to get her another one. They never got around to it.

Outside the motel, another car passed on the highway. Until the lights had faded in the distance, Dean's chest felt tight. Nearly a minute after the car had gone, he took his first breath since he spotted it.

His chest hurt, but it wasn't something he noticed. There was a lot of that lately. It was only worse since he had confessed to Sammy. The kid..no, man, would never really understand. Not really.

At least, Dean prayed he never would. Not to god. Never to him.

There was another, one who was worthy of his belief. His thoughts shied away from that one, though.

A glance to his digital watch told him it was twelve-o-two. Seven minutes since the last time he had checked.

His stomach growled. There was a burger in the bag on the night stand next to his knife. It was five hours old, and probably congealed in it's own delectable juices. The mere thought of sucking down the burger made his mouth water and his stomach churn at the same time.

It was probably better left there on the table. Sam would want something to feed his giant ass when he woke up anyways. Speaking of giant ass, did the kid have to blow it like that? After all, he was sitting right there!

Rolling his eyes, Dean went back to watching the window. There were moths buzzing around the light. Big ones, like they used to have there in Kansas. They were ugly, but fried real nice when you turned on the bug zapper.

Bobby had one. May be when they were next out that way, he would plug it it in and watch it. He could sit there for hours with a six pack and may be a whole pie. Something with a thick, delicious whipped topping.

Cheryl had liked whipped topping. With nipples like cherries, he had pretty much figured out why. She tasted great, was less filling, had a hell of a mouth, to boot!

Exhaling, he puttered his lips. The motel was too quiet. But if he thought it out loud, Sam would do something annoying. Probably pick up snoring like some ass. Or out of his own.

The latter seemed more likely the longer Sam lay there.

Scowling, Dean pulled his shirt over his nose. That was the last time they got burgers at a taco joint! Jesus Christ!

He was considering what to use as a plug for his brother's ass when the security light went out. Whipping his head around to the window, Dean reached for the gun in his lap. As a breeze tasseled the tips of his hair, he closed his eyes.

Dean sucked in a shuddering breath. The tension in his muscles slid away with the air as it escaped his lips.

When the light came back on, he was sitting on the other end of the cheap, motel couch. The edges of his ever present coat were draped over the cushions like he had been sprawled there for hours. Despite the rumpled appearance, his inquisitive blue eyes were watching Dean with such intensity.

"Took you long enough." Raising a plastic bottle to his lips, Dean sucked back a couple sips of the water within. He would rather have had something a bit stronger, but there was no taking chances after the last couple of days.

Castiel said nothing. Cocking his head, he continued to study Dean. The angle of his face caught the light, flashing off the vessel's eyes.

Something sparked in Dean's memory. Castiel on the ground. Alastair had stood over him, his hand to the Angel's throat. His intent had been to kill Castiel.

His throat tight, Dean took a shuddering breath. Lowering the bottle, he had to swallow twice before he could speak again. "Are you okay? I mean, I saw it happen. That son of a bitch had you by the throat."

"I am well." The Angel's expression remained unchanged as he spoke. "You are recovering?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Waving it off, Dean glanced out the window. "It's nothing new." He should have been proud of himself. His voice never wavered once.

As he leaned little forward, more of Castiel's face became visible. "I wish to thank you. Without your assistance today, I most likely would not have been able to continue the battle."

Snorting, Dean refused to look at the man. Despite not seeing, he was very aware of how close the Angel actually was. "Forget about it, it's nothing." Rolling his shoulders, he tried to get comfortable. "The bastard had it comin anyways."

"I know what he did to you." The words were said in a husky whisper, but they seemed to suck the air out of the room.

A scream echoed in Dean's mind, his own, sounding like so many others. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to remain rigid. "Please. Don't. It's...just, don't go there." Soft skin gently touched his cheek. Jerking away, Dean opened his eyes to glare at Castiel. "What are you doing?"

The Angel was much closer now. He was almost touching, their bodies were so close. Still, his clothes looked as if he had been sitting there for hours. Castiel's eyes were wide, uncertain and questioning. "I was attempting to comfort you."

"Yeah, well, cut it out." Leaning back, Dean tried to put as much space between them as the couch would allow. Unfortunately, he was already backed in to the corner next to the arm rest. "I don't need your pity."

"It is not pity, Dean." His face going slack, Castiel sat back on the couch.

Dean didn't really believe that. "Whatever it is, I don't want it." Skin itching, he tried to adjust his clothes so he could get comfortable.

"That is a lie." Unaware, or uncaring how his words effected the human, Castiel continued on. "You do not believe you are worthy of even that, but you are. That and so much more."

"Oh, enough of that crap!" The prickling sensation became too much. Standing up, Dean tugged on his collar. Twisting to face the Angel, he felt like snarling like the beast he knew himself to be. "I don't know what the hell your god thinks is so wonderful about me, but I got news for you, it's not true. So all this 'god's will' stuff, stop it, it's annoying!"

As Dean spoke, Castiel dropped his eyes to stare intently at the floor. His jaw clenched and unclenched while he was yelled at. "I told you before, God chose you..."

"Bullshit!" Dean stomped his foot. It felt so good to hear the vibration of the floor, he did it again. "I am not worth..."

"Yes," he raised his face, "you are." Standing up from the couch, Castiel stared Dean directly in the eyes. "No matter how hard you try to ignore it, how vehemently you deny the truth, I will never believe you. You, Dean Winchester, are special."

Stepping up to the Angel, Dean felt his face go still. "No." It was a hoarse whisper, barely making it passed his throat. "I'm not."

Exhaling across Dean's skin, Castiel seemed to vibrate with his anger. "What would it take to convince you?"

"Nothing." A bitter smirk crossed Dean's lips. Deep inside, he knew this as truth. "I am of no use to any of you. God, Lucifer, Lilith, no one." Swallowing, he forced the memories away. "Just look at today. How much good was I to you then? Hmm? If it wasn't for Anna's reangelify, we'd probably all be dead!"

"There is a plan." Back to whispering, Castiel seemed almost afraid to say these words. "We are all a part of it, with our own places within it."

"Is that so?" Dean hissed through his gritted teeth at the Angel. His fists clenched, wanting to hit something so badly. "Well who came up with this plan, you? Because I sure in hell know it wasn't god. Even if he did exist, god wouldn't let something this important screw up so badly!"

"The mistake was mine, but I would make it again." Castiel's jaw clenched, his brows lowering in pain. "I love you."

"That's just too damn...what?" Eyes going wide, Dean took a staggering step backwards, face twisting as if struck. Did he just hear what he thought he did? "What did you say?"

"You were right." Unable to meet Dean's startled gaze, the Angel looked away. His eyes landed upon nothing, so he closed them. "God did not choose you."

The world seemed to suddenly tilt. Dropping to his knees, Dean blinked to clear the spots from his vision. Gasping for breath, he shook his head. "What?"

"The decision was mine." Standing there, he suddenly seemed so much smaller. The presence he exuded was gone, and there was only the vessel, the angel. Castiel. "I chose you, Dean."

Almost breathless, Dean started to chuckle. "I knew it." It had been a lie, everything. He had known, deep inside, no matter how much he wanted to believe it, he had known.

"We were given a choice, mine was yours." Kneeling in front of Dean, Castiel still could not bring himself to meet the human's gaze. "In that moment, everything you are became mine. All that I have been was yours."

At that, Dean started to cackle. "You're so screwed."

Anger flared in Castiel's eyes. With a snarl, he launched himself at Dean. Slamming the human on to the hard floor of the motel room, Castiel sat, straddling his stomach. "You are everything. Without you, there is nothing! What do you not understand?"

The breath knocked out of him, Dean tried to shove the Angel away, but he would not be moved.

Hands fisted in Dean's jacket, Castiel leaned forward until their faces were almost touching. "I have given my everything to you. If you fail, so do we both." He watched the way Dean's eyes narrowed down to him.

"What..." Dean licked his lips, frowning. "What do you want?"

Pressing their foreheads together, Castiel closed his eyes.

For a moment, Dean could swear he felt feathers touching the tips of his finger where they lay splayed across the floor. Closing his eyes, he allowed the weight of the angel, his angel, to settle over him. Surprisingly, there was no crushing force making it difficult to breathe.

Soft lips, almost hesitant, touched his own. Moving slowly, they caressed his skin. Gentle pecks were placed at even intervals over his cheek until Castiel's breath could be felt in his ear. Swallowing, Dean took a shuddering breath.

"Let me love you, Dean."

Clenching his eyes shut, he trembled. Whether it was from fear or something else, Dean couldn't remember. Then, he nodded.

Sudden warmth flooded him. Gasping, his eyes shot open. Pleasure spread through out his body, buffeting him on their waves. He moaned as he tried to get a grasp upon the force, but there was so much. Too much.

Dean lost himself, desperately flailing for something to grab hold of. There was nothing to snag. It was every where, inside him and all around. With a groan, he closed his eyes and sank down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was warm. Sun light came streaming through the broken blinds, heating the bed to almost unbearable. Dean felt that he had kicked the blankets off long ago, the sheet gathered at their hips the only thing protecting his modesty.

Their hips?

Opening one eye, he looked down. The first thing he saw was a trail of hair leading down from a hairy navel. Well formed abs, and a hard length against his leg were also clues. Dean knew he was in bed with a dude.

Frowning, he dragged his eyes up the body. Funny, he didn't feel the normal panic this would have inspired. When his gaze landed upon the familiar face, not three inches from his own, a strange peace settled in his chest.

A smile formed on his lips of it's own volition. He knew it was a stupid grin, but he felt too good to care. Blue eyes across from his blinked awake.

Upon focusing on Dean, Castiel smiled.


THE END...........................