hardhearted | ic inbox ; exitvoid

[ Maybe he likes the attention a little too much, almost reluctant to release his hand, but he does. This isn't what they do--not anymore. Castiel drops his own hands, one lifting to rub at the back of his neck before sliding into a pocket. ]

It's also for... protection. [ Who's to say he's actually wrong about that. ] I think we need all we can get in a place like this.

[ Awkward now, he just stands there. ]

And for you to remember you are not alone.

Protection. [ righty right. dean examines the ring for a beat more, a second or two of simply looking at it, and then drops his hand away, focus back on cas. ]

M'sure its power will be put to the test sooner rather than later.

[ because yeah, this place.

the last part has him pausing, hesitating... ]

Right.

[ don't expect a thank you!!!! ]

You give one of these to everyone you invite over?

[ He stares right back, tensing perceptibly at the question. It should annoy him, and to a degree, it does. That Dean would try to cheapen something he'd put thought into, had risked giving him despite the original hesitation because of that tear in their bond. Castiel's mouth thins. ]

You're the, uhm, fearless leader. I would think you mean more than some random person. [ He keeps his voice cool, distant. ] Besides, who would I bring here?

[ No one really. There's been a handful of others, but nothing beyond words, looks. He hasn't touched despite the urge to do so. ]

There is no other, and you're the only one to have it. [ Just like him. ]

[ who cas would bring, who he wouldn't... dean doesn't really care, but it's easier to bring up than the fact that the other man just gave him a goddamn ring. another glance, down at it, this time his fingers are idly tracing over the symbol... ]

It'll do.

[ is said finally, quietly. it's the only sort of thanks you'll get for it. ]

[ The expression on his face is fleeting, but it's kind. Much too kind than what Dean thinks he probably deserves. It's the same look he's always given him regardless of whether or not he's consciously aware of it--a bit too knowing. Castiel stretches, arms behind his back so there's something to do with his hands. ]

I'm glad you like it.

[ Doesn't mean he isn't going to be a big smug about it though. ]

Yeah? [ you get a dark look for that air of arrogance, but it's not really... harsh. ] Don't get too smug 'bout it.

But whatever. I didn't come here for this. Less talkin, more drinking.

[ he needs to get drunk, alright. ]

[ It's only then does the smile falter, eyes rolling over Dean and beyond to the untouched bottle he'd left sitting. What more do they have in common now besides this? Castiel sees it, like most things, as an opportunity, and he picks it up after some maneuvering, this time settling himself on the floor by his bed.

He has to look up at him from this angle, but it's not the first time he's done so. ]

I'm not keeping you from it. [ Because he still has the other bottle. Castiel opens his and leans back, watching him as he takes a drink. ]

[ damn right, you ain't. as if it's a challenge, dean takes a long drink from the bottle, right until he has to part from it just to breathe. it burns good though, sets low in his stomach like solid warmth. ]

So... manage to taint your screw up of a past self yet? He was there, you know, on the spaceship when it happened.

[ when sam died. ]

[ He almost laughs at the screw up part, how he knows that to be true, so true, but the last of it has him drawing up short, the sound more clearing his throat than anything else. Castiel swallows what's in his mouth and sits back, looking up to the ceiling. ]

I do, and he's aware of his mistakes. [ More than. There's something like a hum. ] Have you, uhm, seen him around?

[ Because he hasn't. Not since contacting him a few days prior when he'd learned the news himself. It makes him angry, but there's a little pride mixed with it, knowing that he had succeeded where his supposed "better" self had not, even if it had only been once. It's twisted logic, and it has him drinking again--several big, quick swallows. ]

Not since he took Sam's body. [ not that dean particularly cares. castiel isn't useful to him anymore, not with the anger he holds for dean because of what he'd done, and now that there's no lucifer to hunt...

dean has no plans of approaching the angel. ]

Probably better that way.

[ he would, god knows it, just end up getting castiel killed most likely. ]

[ That, however, he hadn't known, and he's quiet for several long seconds, allowing them to fade into a minute. Two, which is taken to drink and let the burn of alcohol settle in his belly. Whatever it is, it's strong, but it doesn't negate the twitch of annoyance he feels thinking of the angel.

There's a low sound of dissatisfaction. ]

I think it would be... unwise to disregard him completely. Past you, as well. [ He drops his gaze, leveling with Dean. ] It seems a considerable amount of time has passed since last we saw him.

[ So what do we know about either of them now? ]

[ castiel is one thing, but past-him? fuck that. ]

Why the hell would I give past-me the time of day? All he keeps yappin' on about is-- is shit that never concerned him to begin with.

[ namely getting his friends killed. oops. ]

If there's one reason to get in his face, it's because he expects me to stay away from Sam. I ain't about to.

I'm not asking you to do that. But it's likely he could know something important. [ Whatever that is, he couldn't even begin to guess. There are far too many what-ifs, and supposing this is likely to become a priority, he's going to have to sort out far too much himself. ] Keep your enemies closer - as they say.

[ You are your own worst, after all. He gives him a smug grin before dropping his eyes to stare at the bottle he's drinking from. His thumb rolls along the edge. ]

... isn't that Sam's choice?

What the fuck could he know, Cas? Apparently I screwed up and he saved the day. [ his past-self had been kind enough to drive that point home sweet and thorough. ] Our timelines are different-- we're the ones who're fucked, not them.

Sam can't ignore me forever either.

[ dean won't let him. brb going to empty this bottle now thanks. ]

You don't know that. [ Immediately, he jerks his head up and eyes him rather pointedly, oddly incandescent in that conviction. ] Things might be different, but it doesn't mean they are easy. You should take it into consideration.

[ Use him if he has to. However quietly it's implied, it's only there for a second or two, and then, it's almost a race to see who can finish their bottle first, though Castiel isn't as hellbent on downing the rest. There's already a slow burn in his gut anyhow. ]

Perhaps not. [ And he leaves it at that. ]

I fuckin' hope none of it was easy, I hope he hurt just as much as -- [ i ] -- we did. [ for a moment there's nothing but pure hatred in his voice, fueled by the alcohol. he hates his past-self, hates him for making it through, for getting to keep sam and be okay. ]

Either way, none of it matters here anyway, right? We're dead, they're not, and it ain't like we can just fuckin' hitch a ride with them back to their little paradise universe.

[ He sits there and simply takes it. Dean's anger and his hate, the words that mean everything and hardly scratch the surface of what it is he alone feels. He doesn't allow himself to, searching for that blissful numbness of the liquor he drinks. They're probably going to need another bottle.

So, slowly, he climbs to his feet and uses the edge of his bed as a guide, already a bit lightheaded from the way the previous stuff hums in his veins. Yet, he's practiced, and there's a little breathy laugh as he wiggles one free and works to get it open with oddly sure hands. ]

If you could, would you want to follow them? [ Back there, a world without an apocalypse. He tries to imagine what that's like, offering the alcohol out to him. ] Hypothetically, of course.

[ the question is unexpected, despite how dean had opened the door for it. it forces him to sit back where he'd started leaning with his anger, shuts him up for a good long minute. another man might say yes immediately, it's a new shot at life, of something they never had. and yet... ]

There's nothing for me there.

[ his sam is dead.

dean takes the bottle before asking; ] Would you?

[ He stands for a moment longer, looking at him and wavering a little as he considers it. Would it be worth it? A world without that kind of pain? Without-- Castiel blinks and pushes back, sitting heavily on his bed this time. ]

No. [ And carefully: ] Does that surprise you?

[ it does, and as much might be clear from the way his head snaps up at cas. ]

What? You get a thing for the death and destruction or something?

[ He gives the slightest shake of his head, gaze cast elsewhere. Anywhere but him. This isn't what he'd ever expected to happen between them--these words, like they mean something. ]

I don't feel the need to repeat myself. You know why.

[ a pause, and dean huffs quietly under his breath, like cas' stupidity dawns on him again. ]

That again. And if I did go? What then.

[ don't be pathetic, cas. ]

[ It's almost immediate the way he rolls his shoulders, a shrug that's both nonchalant and dismissive. ]

I don't know. I suppose inviting me, uhm, along would make no difference. [ A huff of a laugh. ] If it's what you wanted-- There are some things I think we deserve to have after all this.

[ And he wants that for him: peace. ]

[ dean's quiet for a beat at that. ]

What we deserve might differ.

[ dean doesn't deserve peace, despite wanting it. ]

[ He stays quiet too, thinking it over for a while, and finally, slowly, he just shakes his head again. ]

Why would either of us deserve differently?

ic inbox ; exitvoid

maybe. does this mean they're going on a honeymoon now

idk did you plan one!!!!

i could have!!!!

where are we going

to the moon

sexy

you know it

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