hardhearted | ic inbox ; exitvoid

[ Even if it's not his choice, he can influence it. But the approach he's taken is the wrong one. That's all Castiel wants him to see. That's all he's trying to do here. He eases up again with his hand, resting it flat against his chest in case he entertains the idea of trying to throw him off or attack him again. ]

Then we convince him otherwise. [ It's said softly. ] But threatening him will get us nowhere.

[ He will do what he wants regardless of the things they have tried to do if Dean keeps doing as he has. Castiel has learned much in his years as a mortal. Violence never brings a person closer. A moment, and he shifts again, tilting his head to meet Dean's eyes. His throat is beginning to burn and throb. The words are a bit strained. ]

... I'm sorry. [ For implying he'd pushed Sam to say yes. ]

Alright.

[ dean's heart hammers away underneath cas' hand, a quick-fire beat of someone who isn't alright. he wants cas off him, and at the same time doesn't because as stupid as all of this is-- cas there, pinning him by the chest is almost grounding. so he just breathes, tries to calm himself and think. see what is being told him for what it is, take it all in and accept what is being said.

we.

us.

dean nods once. and then, he-- he doesn't want those words, and a hand curls over his chest, over cas' for a second. ]

Don't.

[ don't say you're sorry. he needs the pain of the accusation; it's set reality back in, a direction. ]

[ A single word, and he feels, too, like he can breathe. It's a large victory in the scheme of things, something he's struggled to reach for weeks and weeks. Since they'd arrived in Zelien. Castiel had only wanted Dean to listen, to hear him and understand. He freezes up at the touch though, eyes wildly dropping down to the pressure of those fingers curling over his own.

He doesn't know what to make of that. He doesn't know what to do with it. He doesn't think he deserves it.

So, the words stay where they are, and he sucks in another partial ragged breath, the sting of his throat more evident than it had been the last time. And as he breathes in, he leans over him to get as close as he dares in order to press their foreheads together. Just the slightest touch, noses brushing as he forces his mind to go blank. ]

I am. [ He insists it, will keep saying it until he can't speak further. Accept the apology so he can get up; he's not moving otherwise. ]

[ it's such a hard thing to accept. to realize that he needs to trust sam, believe in him to make the right choice and that's it. it's easier to control those around him, it gets shit done be it through threats and fear or not.

but sam's never responded well to those, and dean... he can't afford to be the one to drive sam away again. what little meaning there is in anything these days would be lost if he did.

a hand comes to the side of cas' neck, lightly touching when the other man leans closer, forehead pressing against dean's. there's a moment of stillness, where being as they are is entirely acceptable. but it is a mere moment, nothing more, and then dean is pushing up. being a stubborn ass like always, then, he almost huffs a breath in response, but instead he.... you know, tilts cas right off him. ]

I said don't.

[ he doesn't deserve an apology, so don't give him one.

also he's just going to get up either by pushing until cas moves or whatever, right until he's back on his feet and brushing off the dust and dirt of the ground from his clothes. ]

[ For that single moment, it's as if they're really connected. Like the last several years hadn't been a strain on either of them, like they hadn't skipped the important details and were friends again. The touch speaks volumes in itself, Castiel unconsciously finding himself pressing into it and wanting more. He's always wanted Dean's approval, for the other man to see him. Useful, necessary. It's a threatening contrast to the minutes past, neck burning with the pressure of fingers intent on harming.

He sucks in a breath and hovers there, uncertain what to do with himself until Dean's pushing to get him off.

It's his cue to move, shifting so they're no longer touching, and the moment is gone. Something else that will remain unspoken between them, he's sure, and as he listens to Dean move, dust himself off, he focuses on the task that lies before them. It's different than trapping the devil and killing him now, more complex than he could ever imagine it being and needing-- Well, Castiel doesn't know, and his hand comes up to gingerly feel the bruises beginning to form, the lingering gentleness of something else. ]

Are you in?

[ His voice is rough, almost a whisper. He doesn't look at him, still on his knees after moving. ]

[ the moment means more to dean than he can say, but for now it's time to move on. he doesn't look at cas for a long moment either, instead casting a look around-- they're alone, surprisingly enough, and it's only then that he turns to look at his friend again. cas' neck is bruising clearly, the sight twisting something inside of him. ]

Yes.

[ he lingers then, could leave but...

he offers his hand to cas instead. come on, get up. it's hesitant, like he doesn't have the right to offer help but he does anyway, owes it to the other man. cas had helped him here whether he realizes it or not. ]

Come on. [ beat. ] You should get that looked at.

[ He's almost so distracted that he doesn't notice Dean hasn't left. It's to be expected in most situations anyway, being left to his own devices. But there's still that unbreakable presence there with him, and he lifts his eyes, the slowest sort of movement as he takes in that offered hand. He could refuse it, push him away. It's such a contradictory thought to the one he'd literally had a second ago.

Castiel hesitates, and then, reaches up to take it. ]

Who's going to look at it - you?

[ It hurts to speak, but he gives him the benefit of the doubt. Besides, it's how they'd taken care of things before, when they'd first faced the apocalypse--taking care of each other. Binding wounds, making sure the other was ready to move just in case. He doesn't know what's happening between them.

But he's certainly not going to make it easy for Dean. There's a pointed look, silence prominent. Daring. ]

[ hauling cas up to his feet, dean gives him a bit of a look at the attitude. though he deserves it, his eyes fall to the bruising on cas' neck before glancing at the other man's face again.

he sighs, then raises a brow. ]

Do you want me to?

[ he will, he knows how to fix it so the broken skin won't hurt as much. but it's up to cas, he won't force the other man if he wants to go take care of it himself. even if dean did cause it, something that's blooming guilt low in his gut... ]

[ He returns the look with one of his own, not having much energy to argue this time. Castiel shouldn't bother with this anymore. He should decline the offer, turn away and walk up the steps. It'd be easier to walk out the building, but that means maneuvering around Dean. Risking the chance he might brush shoulders with him as he's leaving.

There's a long pause as he considers his options.

A breath, and his lips begin to hurt from where he presses them so tightly together.

Without a word, fingers slightly curled into fists, Castiel steps closer to Dean and inclines his head so the other man can inspect the damage. He can feel it, knows it hurts and is going to for quite some time. It's always a tender point for him when it comes to healing. Sometimes, he thinks it's ridiculously slow. But there he waits, throat exposed to the very person who had put those forming bruises there. ]

[ dean waits for cas to simply storm off. but when that doesn't happen, and the other man instead steps closer, he releases a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. at the exposed neck, dean studies it closely; he's seen enough of similar things, has inflicted this on others before, too. usually to the point of death. but here, his grip is bruising into skin, tender and sore looking...

there isn't a whole lot to be done about it, since he can offer no magical healing.

fingers graze slightly over one especially dark patch, and then he's withdrawing his hand and stepping back. ]

Unless you know someone with healing abilities, only ice will help with numbing and the swelling.

[ i'm sorry. ]

[ Castiel isn't going to walk away from him again. Not like that.

So, he bears the look and the soft touch with only the slightest grit of teeth, swallowing around the flare of pain and instead focusing on the fact Dean isn't being helpful at all. He'd known he wouldn't have been, not with the way things are here, and it's aggravating to find himself slipping into that trusting role once more. Believe Dean and world will right itself? Hardly. ]

All of which we lack. [ Because he is not asking his other self for help again. ] It doesn't matter.

[ And only then does he lift his eyes up to meet green, silently asking if they're done here. ]

[ dean watches the other man carefully for a beat, and then sighs. he can't do anything here and he knows castiel isn't about to ask help from certain people. all of which is fine with him, so he nods some moments later. ]

Right.

[ in that case, they're done and cas is free to go since dean isn't about offer a verbal apology. ]

ic inbox ; exitvoid

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject