Work Text:
close your eyes.
dean’s words
are cracked,
broken–
cas wants to
ask what’s wrong
but he’s too weak.
he tries
to disobey,
tries to keep his eyes
locked
on dean’s watery
(why are they so
wet and shimmery?)
green ones
but they slip
closed
all on their own.
he’s so tired.
a voice
whispers
that he’s not
supposed to get tired,
that angels
have limitless strength
and stamina.
but he still
can’t open
his eyes.
i hope you believe
in fairy tales,
cas, ‘cause that’s all
we’ve got now.
an instant before
their lips meet
cas feels dean’s
breath
on his face,
smells a hint
of the bacon
he had with breakfast,
and even feeling dean so
close
cas still doesn’t expect
the kiss
until it happens.
and then he’s–
alive.
had he been dying?
his grace, diminished
to barely a flicker,
surges to brilliant life.
it flows through
every cell,
every molecule,
every subatomic particle
that not even theoretical physicists
could dream up.
his wings
knit back together,
new feathers
growing
in a breath.
There’s a sub-audible
whoosh,
the sound of his wings
displacing the air
as they push
into this plane.
he’s being born again.
dean’s surprised face
hovers above him.
he’s wiping away
a tear.
hello dean.
cas, you’re–
alive, cas finishes.
yes, but you’re–
whole. cas fills in the blank
again
when dean leaves
the space.
dean stares,
running his hands
along cas’s arms,
face,
chest,
wings.
but…
how?
true love’s kiss,
cas says with a grin.
i know
you’ve seen those movies.
a blush
rises
in dean’s cheeks.
love is a powerful
magic. it can’t be
wielded…
it just
is.
love.
the word seems
foreign
in dean’s mouth,
but in time it
grows, settles over them
like a blanket.
he brushes his lips
against cas’s again,
feather-light,
then whispers
the word
again.
love.