...and raised you from Perdition.
A blog dedicated to Supernatural, most specifically to Destiel (Dean/Castiel) and everyone's favorite nerdy angel. Feel free to submit anything from pictures to character analyses!
So this is an excerpt from a larger fic I’m working on, with genderbent Team Free Will. And by ‘genderbent’ I mean, ‘always-a-cis-girl!Dean, always-a-cis-girl!Sam, and cis-girl-bevesseled!Cas,’ but that’s really wordy so.
Anyway, this particular scene is just a re-imagining of a portion of “Free to be You and Me,” featuring ace!Cas.
Because Asexy April, that’s why.
Anyway, enjoy. <3 Murphy
Castiel could die tomorrow. Will probably die tomorrow. Deanna doesn’t like that. She’s actually a little surprised by exactly how much she doesn’t like that, but she’s ignoring that for the time being. Facts are: Cas is probably a goner, and Deanna doesn’t like that.
So, of course, she reacts how she always does to this kind of thing (and how fucking sad is it that this kind of thing happens often enough in her life that she has a typical reaction?): she gets snarky.
“Wow. Well, last night on Earth. What, uh, what are your plans?”
“I thought I’d just sit here quietly,” Cas replies, totally cool and calm and completely unruffled by the prospect of their suicide mission.
“Dude, come on,” Deanna snorts. “Anything? Booze? Men? Women?” She’s getting increasingly incredulous as the angel gets increasingly uncomfortable. The chick seriously was going to just sit quietly her last night alive? When Cas turns away on the last remarks, Deanna’s eyes widen.
“You have been with someone before? Right? Or an angel, at least?” Cas doesn’t respond, doesn’t even look over, just shifts, more nervous and embarrassed-looking than Deanna has ever seen her. And Deanna puts the angel in pretty uncomfortable positions on a pretty regular basis, because she’s a bitch like that. “You mean to tell me you’ve never been up there doing a little cloud seeding?”
“I’ve never had an interest before, okay?” Cas finally snaps, and is that a blush darkening her cheeks, or is it just the shitty lighting in here?
“What do you mean, never had an interest?” she asks, more than a little taken aback and genuinely curious, because, damn, how do you not have an interest in sex? Cas does that shrug thing again, the one that means she’s uncomfortable but can’t express it because the girl is straight-up Winchester sometimes in the talking-about-feelings department.
“I mean human sexuality…has never before appealed to me. And certainly not on my last night.” Deanna just nods, even if Cas isn’t looking at her, and runs a hand through her hair, taking in just another weird thing in a string of weird things about the angel. After a minute, she sighs and goes over to Cas, offering her a hand out of the chair she’s sitting in. Cas looks up at her blankly.
“All right. Let me tell you something. There are two things I know for certain: One, Bert and Ernie are gay,” (where the hell did that come from, she wonders) “Two, I, for one, am far too sober to deal with the idea of your impending doom right now. Let’s go.” Hesitantly, Cas takes her hand and let’s Deanna lead her out to the Impala.
Hours later, they leave a bar after Cas has somehow managed to upset the waitress, and the angel’s complete inability to interact normally with people is infinitely funnier when Deanna has a decent beer buzz going, and she is laughing fit to bust.
“What’s so funny?” Cas demands, and the look of confusion still on her face from her encounter inside is enough to set Deanna off again, leaning on Cas’ shoulder to stay standing. When she finally manages to catch her breath, she just shakes her head and wipes a tear away from the corner of her eye.
“Oh, nothing. Whew. It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed that hard.” She pauses, and her smile starts to fade a bit. “More than a long time. Years.” And the truth of that hits her like a punch to the gut, and she’s suddenly way too sober again and she almost turns to go back into the bar, maybe to empty it this time. But one look at Cas’ face shows her that the angel’s about to flap away into oblivion, and no, not tonight, not if it’s the last night. So she straightens up, claps Cas on the back in a manly fashion, and says, “C’mon, let’s get back.”
They’re back to sitting by the window again, on the floor this time for some reason, and she’s reluctant to go to bed, trying to drink in every last moment of stupid ugly trench coat and impossibly blue eyes before the inevitable morning and Jesus shit, she clearly had not been sober enough to drive them back if she’s thinking like this. And suddenly she realizes Cas is staring again and is all up in her personal space, and before she can stop herself, she’s leaning in.
“Cas, when you said earlier, that you’d never had an interest before,” she murmurs, and Cas tilts her head slightly, “What about now?” And, without thinking about it, she leans over and presses her lips against the angel’s. At first, there’s nothing, but then Cas leans into it a little more, and Deanna moves in at the slightest response, hand reaching up to rest on Cas’ neck. But the kiss is light and chaste and all too short, because Cas reaches up and places her hand over Deanna’s (gently, because Cas would be gentle at a time like this) and pulls away. They’re still about two inches apart, but the look in Cas’ surprised eyes makes her feelings clear before she even speaks.
“Deanna, I…I am grateful for the gesture, but I really would rather pass the night quietly.”
And the panic of what she has done overwhelms her, and oh God she’s fucked up, and she lurches to her feet, wanting to run away, to get away, because she just kissed Cas, for fuck’s sake, and she’s only got a few hours left and she fucked it up.
“I get it, I’m really sorry, it’s just the beer – ” and she cuts off abruptly because she’s been so busy babbling excuses that it takes her a second to notice that she hasn’t gone anywhere because Cas is still holding her hand and looking up at her expectantly.
“However, I would like it very much if you would sit with me.” Something seems to relax within her, because Cas isn’t pissed off or freaked out; she’s just simply not into it (which is a first for Deanna, but whatever). But most importantly, she still wants Deanna there. So she smiles, a little shakily, then readjusts her hand in Cas’ so that it’s a comfortable fit and gives a slight squeeze before settling herself next to Cas.
“Yeah, Cas, of course,” she says, and Cas seems to shift slightly closer, so their bodies press lightly up against each other where they rest against the wall and floor.
When Deanna wakes up a few hours later, she’s stiff from falling asleep sitting up and in an awkward position. But she also wakes up with a warm arm wrapped snugly around her, and her face buried in the shoulder of a trench coat that smells, she thinks, a bit like cold mountain air, so it’s not so bad.