26: [Action] Dazed and Confused

[dashboardlite]

[ Dean is only a little twitchy.  He never really feels like he needs things, but right now he's lacking.  Something.  Something big.  It's not starvation, because when he's hungry, he gets food.  When he wants sex, he finds Cas.  Dean doesn't get cravings because he's always well-fed.

But what he needs right now is people.

So Dean is wandering around the grounds for the most part, trying to locate the people he needs.  He could be in the parlour, fixing a drink.  He could be kicking at the edge of the hedge maze, contemplating going inside but unwilling to risk not being able to find his way out again without a bag of peanut M&Ms to leave as a trail guide.  He could even be in the kitchen, trying (and failing) to cook something to keep his mind off of everything.

He's that restless.

Good luck. ]

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[out-of-minutes.livejournal.com]

Cas doesn't even deign to acknowledge the featherhead comment. "There is no one else," he answers flatly.

"But I see now I was wrong," he goes on, flatly because it's the only way to keep from breaking in front of Dean. "I should have known this would never work. That you and I could never be... this." His voice shakes near the end, and he falls silent.

He doesn't know now why he ever thought he and Dean could have something here that they don't have in the real world. Destiny, true destiny, can't be overcome.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

That they couldn't be anything? Right, right, because he's just human.

"Fuck this," Dean bites, raking a hand through his hair. "Fuck you, and...fuck everything, I shoulda known it was all too good to be true. Maybe you'll get lucky and another angel'll show up so you can screw around with it."

Because normal people can't possibly surmount to much for a Heavenly being.

"I'm outta here."

[out-of-minutes.livejournal.com]

It was all too good to be true.

This tells Cas two things: that Dean really did value what they had. That if nothing else, at least he wasn't being false. It also tells him Dean now considers it in the past. Such small things and yet so infinitely powerful, human words.

"Dean, I wouldn't-- Don't--"


But it's too late. By the time forces his own words out, Dean is gone.




Castiel stands alone in the kitchen for long, quiet minutes. His throat is dry and his eyes feel prickly. His chest heaves with ragged breaths he can't control, and suddenly he is acutely aware and acutely weary of his own vessel.

A blink, and the kitchen is empty. A moment every bit of glass in it shatters, thousands of fragments littering the floor and counters.

Then, finally, silence falls.