ximilialog | CATCH-ALL | ACROSS THE UNIVERSE

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supernatural: castiel

CATCH-ALL | ACROSS THE UNIVERSE

CHARACTERS: Castiel & ????
LOCATION: Around the Station, Various
DATE: Assumed, throughout April
CONTENT: Top-Levels, Starters, Etc
WARNINGS: To Be Added
For now, Castiel's INFO, PERMISSIONS, and OPT-IN

01 — mess hall
late morning

[Freedom is a length of rope, and while Castiel had spent much of the past ten or so years pulling that rope as far as it would allow he'd never been without purpose. In between his arrival and waiting for a new mission, Castiel's idle hands drive him out into the various wings of the ship to distract himself from his own misgivings. He knew that Jack had everything handled now, and an outline from which to continue, but it still didn't keep him from being concerned or from missing him and the people that mattered most to him.

He's surprised to find the same offbrand cereal that they kept stocked in the bunker for Jack on the shelves of the pantry and he pours himself a bowl, occupies an empty table, and just stares at it with a small glass of milk beside him, like it might hold the key to his future on this technologically advanced ship.]

02 — common area
afternoon

[No stranger to keeping himself busy with down time Castiel longs for the simplicity of Netflix, and the televised shows Sam and Dean had introduced him to. That being not as prevalent here has made him pursue old habits and with people watching being decidedly off the table he's chosen literature, not for the first time in his life.

Castiel, standing tall and rigid, has been standing in front of the bookshelf closest to the door for a while plucking books off of it, inspecting them front and back, in his desire to find something of interest to consume. He hesitated on a book of haikus, meant to be comedic in nature, but ultimately it returns back to its nesting place too.

The books are all in remarkable shape, given how long they must have been there, and he thumbs the cover of one such book with a frown that makes him crease his eyebrows.]

I fail to see what influence Chicken Soup would have on the soul.

03 — sunlight room
at dusk

[Nature is a boon for Castiel and the sunlight room is one more technological marvel that the ship is capable of. Logically he knows that this isn't real, the simulated room is only a very vivid phantasm but it doesn't prevent him from enjoying it all the same.

When the sun begins to set, Castiel perches himself on the bridge that leads out toward the forest that separates this room from the next. The sky becomes a gradient of orange, purple, pink, and blue and the wildlife present retreats back into the trees calling to one another for rest the same way people do.

It's peaceful, and the warmth of the wind that suggests summer must be coming at home makes Castiel close his eyes for a moment: meditative. The world still spins, regardless of whether or not he's at home being a part of it.]

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[ It's been weeks since he came back from his little visit 'home', since Cas slipped through his fingers, since he let the angel go and left him to die in Purgatory. It's been even longer since Cas left the station. Since the others disappeared, left of their own accord or otherwise.

So many leave. So many don't come back. It's a gut punch every time, and with Cas gone, he'd asked Viv for help with that, for her to smear his memory like Cas did for Lisa, but she'd said no. Given him some mumbo jumbo about how the orbs would take more than just his memories, that she couldn't do it. It makes him want to give up, to just...let go. Be as reckless as possible next mission. He can't friggin' do this shit anymore, can't keep losing people, can't keep losing Cas over and over. Despite all the fuckups, the betrayals, the souls and Leviathans and everything else - Cas is still his friend. His best friend.

And then there's the matter of the kiss that he's shoved into a box into a closet in the back of his mind, shuttered indefinitely. Instead here he is, sick with guilt, raw and wounded, mourning Cas doubly. He couldn't save him, couldn't get him through the portal in Purgatory, couldn't keep him tethered here.

There's no peace for Dean, never has been (never will be, but that's another tale), but the sunlight room is the closest he's ever gotten, so that's where he goes. An argument could be made for the time he'd spent with Lisa, but even Dean can admit there was never true peace. His mind was always replaying his past, his childhood, shooting ranges as a six year old, working with Sam before he'd gone to hell, wondering what Cas was up to, why he'd just left Dean and hadn't come back after everything they'd gone through.

Then there was Purgatory and Crowley and it's...it was too much.

And, you know - Dean's room is fine, it's great; he's decorated it with all things Zeppelin and Dean himself, books and posters, but there's something about wriggling your toes in grass and feeling the sun on your face (even if it isn't actually real) that calms a guy down.

That's where he goes now, fingers flexing, balled into fists inside his pockets, anger and rage and guilt and regret stewing in his body, churning his stomach. The peace does little for him this time; with everything inside of him, he isn't sure there's really anything that would help. Maybe liquor, but he doesn't even have Bobby's flask anymore, just that damned blade from Purgatory sitting in his room, still crusted with monster blood.

Every time he turns around, someone he cares about is dead or missing. Or...they don't want him around. Sam certainly gave him that impression when he'd come back from Purgatory - he hadn't even bothered to look for Dean.

Shit hurts.

His heads bent, looking at the grass when he sees wood - the bridge. He's stood on it enough but when he looks up and sees a...semi-familiar trench he physically reacts, jerking back, heart up in his throat, ready to leap from his chest and bounce into the river, washed away into nothingness. ]

Cas?

Edited 2023-04-04 15:11 (UTC)

[The circumstances in which Castiel had left Dean had been less than ideal. The last words that he'd heard from Dean play on repeat in his mind during rare moments of quiet, maybe just as a form of penance.

"Don't do this, Cas."

Castiel had known when he'd made his deal with the empty that it would come to collect, he'd just never expected to have to do it right then and there, while at his most vulnerable, standing in front of the person that he loved after bearing his soul.

That being said, he'd do it again if he had to in order to protect Dean. He'd been bound to him from the start, piecing him together after the agents of hell had done their best to defile him. Pieces of torn flesh, delicate frays of consciousness, and the burnt and ravaged fibers of being made whole in his own two hands.

He'd found purpose in little else until he met Jack. Then, tasked with fixing heaven and the damage he'd done to it he was unavailable to protect Dean or greet him once he'd met his end. Mortal lives were fleeting, and he knew this and had come to terms with it, but it's something he could never bear to reflect on where Dean was concerned.

He'd asked Jack for this voyage into the unknown to soothe his soul. Something that came with more questions than he knew how to answer. It felt wrong to involve Jack in matters of his heart when he'd gone above and beyond to barter a new transaction with The Empty so that they could restore peace in both planes. In the end, Jack's loyalty allowed him this, and the reach of this ship, its missions, and its capabilities was much more than Castiel knew what to do with.

For the first time in a long time, Castiel felt alone. It was a feeling that he never used to acknowledge but having a family, and a purpose beyond the host of heaven had introduced him to a feeling of belonging he'd learned to find solace in.

He senses Dean before he sees him, but Castiel is still surprised when he meets Dean's gaze across the valley of earth between them. He'd been so lost in thought that the possibility of it being a memory or wishful thinking had crossed his mind.

Castiel walks down the slope of the bridge to meet Dean halfway. He hadn't expected to find him here, his eyes searching his frame torn between wanting to embrace him and shrinking away given the circumstances of their last moments together.]

Dean?

[ He's frozen in place, lips parted, mouth open. For once, Dean is speechless, lost as he stares at the angel in front of him. He looks different; his shoulders are broader, there's more wrinkles around his eyes, something behind them sad, tired. Dean aches, his chest constricting as he moves to meet Cas halfway, heart in his throat.

How do you face the person you left in Purgatory, how do you face the angel you've let down, the man who's given everything for you and betrayed you in the worst way?

He isn't sure. But he does know that Cas is here, again, that he's solid and alive and the kiss they'd had under the mistletoe has stayed fresh in his mind, lingering at the edges every waking moment, no matter how he's tried to bury it.

Fuck it.

He steps in, eyes a little wet, and flings his arms around the angel and drags him in close. ]

Holy shit. You're real.

[Castiel almost rushes in without thought, but the hug from Dean is a grounding force that he greedily seeks purchase in. Dean's not as sturdy as he remembers, but he's still the very same soul and everything is still exactly as he left it.

Rather than languish in his arms, he pulls back to inspect the differences in him from what he remembered in the bunker after saying goodbye. He was twice as old then as he is now, but not too much had changed. Just the weariness in his eyes, and the ache of age he hid with liquor and humor, two of his favorite vices.

Castiel can't really place the when, but the scruff on his jaw, and the slight overgrowth to his hair suggest a time he'd rather forget. Purgatory. When he'd willingly left Dean to escape so he could pay for his own misgivings.]

Why wouldn't I be real?

[ Cas might pull back but Dean doesn't let go, doesn't really even let Cas get that far; he stays in the angels space like their roles are reversed, too close, eyes too wide, too bright. He's aware he's acting like a lunatic, but he's been dreaming about the angel for months, for months and now here he is in the flesh and Dean's somehow supposed to be normal about all this. About the fact Cas was here, that they'd kissed, that they went on a mission and Dean came back alone, that he'd gone home right after and spent five years fucking around, being a dick to Cas and Cas being a dick back then losing him in Purgatory and coming back here and the angel was still gone-

Yeah, there's no being normal about it.

Dean clutches Cas' arms, his biceps, fingers digging in, body betraying him by showing emotions, wet eyes, cheeks flushing. ]

Cause, cause it's impossible. You don't know-

[ What he's been through.

It's enough that Dean's dragging Cas in again, screw it, screw everything, he doesn't give a shit anymore. ]

[This isn't the Dean that watched him get swallowed up by The Empty. This isn't even the Dean he left on the other side of a closing portal. Something else happened, he knows Dean, and clingy was something he'd never been. Not with him. There was never any excess of touching, longing, or leering - all those things were most often found in Castiel instead. As bittersweet as it was, Castiel can't help but languish in the touch, the roughness of Dean's palm, and the soft warmth of his very human flesh.

His eyes are a bold green now, distracting from the constellation of freckles that decorated the bridge of his nose. There's something more here, between them, and Castiel isn't sure whether or not it's him, and his desires clouding his judgment.]

Dean, I -

[How long had he been here? What was the last thing that he could remember? What should they do now that they were here together facing down missions and grief all for a "promised," outcome and should they discuss their own arrangements, or not?

Castiel opens his mouth, but the words don't find him. He's got too many questions and not enough answers and it was Dean himself that taught him that those weren't good odds.]

[ It's Dean from his Purgatory Era, but it isn't. Same looks; hair longer, face scruffy, but there's something in his eyes that isn't the same. Something dark, something far more haunted than even Purgatory or everything he's been through could cause. There's fear, too, fear that if he lets go of Cas he might disappear before Dean's eyes, dissipate into dust and nothingness, leaving only the lingering scent of ozone and petrichor behind.

He can't let go. He won't. ]

No.

[ No what? No, don't say it. No, don't say you don't remember. No, don't push me away. Please.

Fingers dig into Cas' arms, his coat soft under Dean's fingers. He's starting, drinking him in, impossibly blue eyes, soft lips, lips he's kissed even if Cas doesn't remember.

Maybe that's what he'll do now. Kiss him so he doesn't say anything doesn't want to hear. Cup the back of Cas' head, fingers threading in his dark hair, bring him in flush and kiss him. ]

[ It's Dean, the alternate timeline didn't matter. Not in retrospect. Castiel knew him inside and out, tied the fibers of his being back together, and reconstructed the strings of his heart. He knew him better than he knew himself.

He needs a haircut, Castiel never knew Dean to let his hair get too long. Always somewhere between a crew cut and a mohawk, but never one more than the other. It's a lot to take in, the hair on his jaw from forgetting to shave - maybe two days too many without taking the razor to it. Castiel's still taking it in when Dean says no, and the firmness that follows startles him enough to bring his attention back to his eyes and he finds the desperation in them too late to do anything but drown in those pools of green before their lips meet and Castiel's confusion and his discomfort are overridden by desire.

It's a selfish thing, kissing him back, and Castiel wouldn't have given himself so wholly if he'd been convinced that this was really happening. Maybe this was still part of the dream, maybe he'd wake up in the station with a twisted gut and goosebumps. Dean's grip is still firm though, and Castiel can feel it through the layers on his arms and it's that small acknowledgment that lets him believe that just maybe this was real, and maybe Dean wanted him the same way Castiel had wanted him without words or a name to put to it.

He's gone. Reckless abandon. The only thing that matters to him now is the way Dean's lips feel on his and after millennia his worldview has been completely centered on that, on him.

His arms, which were initially at his sides find purchase in the wings of Dean's back, and he opens his mouth deliberately beckoning something more, wild and hungry like a predator trying to lure prey. If this was some fluke thing, some way that the cosmic creativity of the ship sought to preoccupy him Castiel was going to take it regardless. After dying for it, admitting it only to end his own life, he knew that moments like these were precious and worthwhile. ]

[ It's pathetic, he thinks, the way he's reacting. He should pull back, laugh it off, clap Cas on the shoulder and say it's sure good to see you, man.

But that isn't what happens. That isn't what he wants to do. Hell with what he should do, or what his brain thinks he should do, or what the voice of his father that still lingers in the back of his head says he should do.

Dean's doing what he wants to do, and what he wants to do is devour Cas right here in the sunlight room, clutch him tightly, mash himself up against Cas' broad frame, shove him up against the railing of the bridge, taste him, feel him, yank his shirt free from where it's tucked into his slacks and shove his hands up and under, grip warm skin under calloused fingers.

So that's what he does, he follows his heart, lets himself take and taste because Cas is letting him, Cas is returning it, opening his mouth under Dean's, as eager and wild as Dean is, desperation mingled with need and want and reunion.

Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. Dean's emotional, he can feel it welling in his chest, a choked sob that will humiliate him if it breaks free so he swallows it down, kisses Cas until he can't breathe anymore, clutches him close, fingers dimpling skin. He can't stop his eyes from welling up, Dean's an emotional man, but if he keeps them closed and keeps taking and taking, then Cas won't see, wont see how weak Dean is, how lost he's been, how far down the hole he's been spiraling. ]

Edited 2023-04-17 17:35 (UTC)

[That's what Castiel was expecting after taking notice of his respective timeline, the differences between them. This isn't at all what is in the scope of his mind when he'd seen Dean, beyond the want for it, he'd long since given up hope for any kind of reciprocation. Castiel was fine with that, with his own feelings being unrequited because Dean was important to him for none of that to matter.

Now, this? Lips on lips, his chest pushed flush into his own so close he can feel Dean's heartbeat rocketing through his chest, it all feels like a fantasy. Something he's wanted for so long that he can't help but cling to it desperately, his nails biting into the fabric covering Dean's back.]

[ He has to breath. He has to; if Dean doesn't pull back now, the spots dotting his vision will take over and he'll crumble, sink to his knees right here and do something that's...probably stupid. ]

Cas.

[ Intermingled with a gulped in breath of air, it comes out as more of a gasp, but the name on Dean's lips tastes good, lingering damp left from Cas' own lips. ]

Holy shit.

[When Dean pulls back the reality of what just happened, what they just did, finally hits him and his heavy-lidded eyes widen and his kiss-swollen lips press into a firm line.

He shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't have succumbed so easily to the sins of the flesh and still now, standing in front of Dean he can't help but want to embrace him all over again. That desire to hold him so close that his grace echoes at the core of him hasn't dissipated even as shame, and shock come filtering in.]

I-

I'm sorry.

You didn't - no.

[ He shakes his head, a half laugh bubbling up, hysterical and a little manic.

Chill, dude. ]

Should be me sayin' I'm sorry. Kinda ambushed you. [ But he's not letting go, he's not backing off, and if anything he's coming in again for a tight embrace, needing Cas close, in his arms, against his body. If he's dreaming, he wants this to last as long as possible. ]

[The laugh only makes things more confusing for Castiel and he ticks his head to one side, as if looking at him from a different angle might help him to understand. It doesn't.

While it's not what Cas would call an ambush, the way he responds to Dean's touch after that with goosebumps and a punch of breath makes it clear that none of this had been what he'd anticipated.]

I don't - [Understand, clearly, but the words he wants to say aren't finding him now.] I didn't think that I would find you here and that we'd be doing this. I don't know what I'm supposed to say.

[ Dean, macho manly thing that he is, feels himself welling up when Cas tips his head like that - it's so familiar, reminds him so much of home that he has to bury his face in the angels neck to keep from losing his cool.

When he speaks, his voice is muffled, which is awesome because it hides how choked up he is. ]

I think you're supposed to say 'Hello, Dean'.

[It's far from the same sort of cant to his head that he'd done when they'd first met, bird-like, and inhuman. There's a relaxed sort of acceptance to how he moves and speaks now, an educated and almost human but not quite cadence to his voice.

Even riddled with doubt, and presently confused, he still can't deny Dean a simple request like that and so with a half-moon smile he relents:]

Hello, Dean.

[ The sob that bubbles up is choking; the tenor of Cas' voice, the familiar Hello, Dean echoing in his head, memories flooding - it has him crumbling, yanking the angel close again, burying his face into Castiel's neck. ]

H-hey, Cas.

[ It's muffled against Cas' skin, Dean's eyes squeezed closed, a few tears slipping out that he quickly shuts off - waterworks aren't manly, get it together, dude. ]

Shit, I'm glad you're here.

[Cas could have chalked up his first few missteps as merely being out of touch with his life at home, but now being so close to him he knows better. He doesn't let Dean go, and runs his palm soothingly up the bulbs of Dean's spine to the hair at the nape of his neck he'd always longed to touch.]

I'm glad you're here, but what's the matter?

[He couldn't deny himself the question any longer, because the Dean he knew wouldn't have collapsed into him like this. They lived years before he'd even so much as hug him like this.]

Shit, man...everything.

[ How does he even begin to explain? There's so much, so much that's happened in the year plus since he's been here. ]

Let's, let's go to my room. We can talk.

[ "Talk". If Dean doesn't attack his mouth again, anyway. ]

Everything?

[That's a broad spectrum of possibility, and Castiel's brows lift into his hairline to declare that non-verbally. He has many questions, most of which have nothing to do with his life here and everything to do with that kiss.]

Okay.

[Castiel hadn't actually been to his quarters yet and knew nothing of the location or set-up because his first tour had been of the amenities and what the ship provided outside of personal refuge.]

Where is your room?

[He could easily just take them both there, even though he'd found some solace in walking and doing things the "human," sort of way.]

Everything.

[ There's a lot to share and he isn't sure where to start - if he should start. How do you explain what the last year has been like? How do you tell your best friend, the being who means as much to you as your brother, how much your heart has shattered again and again? It's patched together so crudely, it wouldn't take much for it to break permanently. Pieces are missing, parts of himself gone with the ones who have left, insides hollow and carved out, leaving him a shell, exhausted and empty. ]

This way.

[ He takes Cas' hand without hesitation, starts to drag him out of the room and across the station to the rooms, his specifically. ]

You're gonna stay with me, right?

Edited 2023-04-30 13:50 (UTC)

Everything was a term that could be all-encompassing, and not for the first time since he found Dean in the sunlight room Castiel is at a loss for words and follows after Dean silently, with his free hand at his side and the hand in Dean's clinging desperately to the touch, longing to lace their fingers and see just how well the fingers of his vessel fit in between Dean's.

When they enter the room, Castiel's look of confusion cascades into something almost nostalgic and his blue eyes scan all the memorabilia, little notes of Dean before hunting took his life and then long after.]

Stay with you?

[Cas searches the room, it's not what most would consider large and there's just one bed and bathroom. This combined with the fact that he doesn't sleep gives him some pause.]

Yeah, duh.

[ Why wouldn't Cas stay here? Dean knows he doesn't sleep, but...it's the thought that counts, obviously. Or something, he doesn't know.

He just knows he can't lose Cas again, and the angel is likely going to have a shadow whenever Dean has a chance to bother him. ]

I just, y'know. Things haven't been great. I'm glad you're here.

Okay. Is there a ... chair? Can I get a chair?

[Castiel's primary concern is not breathing down Dean's neck despite how much he may want to hover and needlessly occupy his space now that he's here. He's missed him, and knowing what he knows - having confessed, and now miraculously kissed the man makes it that much harder. A chair where he can read and just sit while Dean does the human thing and sleeps would be helpful.]

What do you mean?

[His brow furrows, attention deviated from having somewhere to toil while Dean slept to Dean himself. It's unfortunate, that even coming to a place like this with its promises and procedure Dean would still suffer. It's not something he's pleased to hear.]

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CATCH-ALL | ACROSS THE UNIVERSE

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