Work Text:
Soulless
Sam is in the motel room, soulless and not sleeping. Dean leans against the driver’s door of the Impala and takes a deep swallow of his beer. He’s been calling Castiel for about ten minutes and is just about to give up when he hears the tell-tale flutter that means the angel has shown up.
“Hello, Dean,”
“Crowley’s the King of Hell now, did you know that? He’s the one who grabbed Sam and Samuel out. He’s the one who left a soul behind.” Dean informs him.
Cas considers a moment. “This is very bad, Dean. What reason could he have to do these things?”
Dean sighs, reaching down to the half-empty six-pack to grab a bottle for Cas. Cas takes it and tries a sip thoughtfully, leans against the car and listens quietly as Dean explains Crowley’s purported plan – finding Purgatory.
“Crowley trying to take over Purgatory isn't something we need just now. The war is going badly, and we can’t lose….”
“I don’t give a crap about your war, Cas!” Dean interrupts. “I give a crap about my brother and I need your help!”
Castiel tries another sip of the beer, then turns away from the car, facing Dean head-on. Too close. Even closer than he normally stands.
“You should give a crap about my war, Dean!” Castiel tells him heatedly. “If Raphael wins, there could be devastation on Earth. He could restart the Apocalypse. I understand your concern. For Sam. And about Crowley. I intend to look into this Purgatory thing. I have been making inquires about Sam’s soul, as I promised.”
Castiel places a hand on Dean’s shoulder reassuringly, and Dean can feel the heat from the angel’s skin right through his shirts and jacket. There’s that something. That something that twists up Dean’s insides at the touch.
“Cas,” he manages to get out past a quickly-forming tightening in his throat, “Cas, I…I just need you to help. I don’t think anyone else can. What Crowley’s doing – it can’t be good for anyone, not you or us.”
“I’ll do what I can. I’m with you, Dean, always.” Cas promises.