Chapter Text
They’d rushed him to the hospital, at a loss for what else to do. This was a situation no one had anticipated, and if there were instructions for situations like this, they were most likely on the tablet that had just been pried from Castiel’s newly brutalized body.
Perhaps if they’d had an angel on hand, the damage could have been undone with one glowing touch. Instead they were left to look helplessly upon the split stomach and torn spine of their angel. Something was clearly lodged in his head too, leaving him completely unresponsive. Yet he continued with shallow breaths, the only signal that there was still anything like life in this form.
Maybe it would have been better if he were simply dead. Then maybe he would be raised up again, stroll up to them or show up mysteriously walking on the side of the road someday. True, Naomi and her flunkies wouldn’t be raising him now, but Dean had come to believe that someone would, that Cas would never just stay dead.
But what about this? He was dead and not dead at the same time, and somehow that was much, much worse.
So Dean and Sam brought his torn form to a nearby hospital, and prayed – though they weren’t sure to whom they were praying – that the doctors could somehow heal this vessel well enough that it would allow the angel to take control and complete the healing process.
Days passed. Dean knew that he and Sam should keep working. As usual, the fate of the world seemed to hang on their actions, though whether it was their undue burden to keep saving the world, or their fault for endangering it in the first place, he wasn’t quite sure. But so much was wrong, and now that the King of Hell was collecting the Word of God, things were about to get a helluvalot wronger.
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to leave Cas. Not like this. And though the goal of closing the gates of Hell was one that was easily worth all their lives, he also couldn’t bring himself to keep pushing Sam through the trials that were clearly killing him. He couldn’t lose them both. He’d already lost so much, and as much as he knew that shutting up Hell was theoretically more important than a few lives, he didn’t think he could go on trying to save this world if the last two things he cared about were no longer in it.
Though they both knew that it was probably futile, maybe even more futile than trying to get medical care for an angel, Dean had convinced Sam to have the doctors look at him. It only made sense. They were stuck in the hospital anyway, and it was obvious to anyone who looked at them that Sam needed help. Even if they couldn’t give him the help he really needed, perhaps they could do something to slow down the deterioration, and to ease his pain.
They’d managed to get Cas and Sam in the same room, so Dean could visit with them both. Dean tried his best to keep Sam’s spirits up, donning the casual, cocky swagger that he usually adopted when things got tough. Under normal circumstances, Sam would have called him out on it, tried to have a chick flick moment and tell him that he should stop pretending everything was okay. But Sam was tired, not to mention blissed out on pain medication, and he seemed to be enjoying this throwback to Dean’s facsimile of his posturing pre-Apocalyptic self. To be honest, Dean was enjoying it too. At least, as much as he could enjoy anything in this completely fucked situation.
Grab what you can out of life while you have it, right? This was his logic behind decimating the hospital vending machine, getting practically one of every type of candy and a couple of drinks, pretending half of it was for Sam even though he knew Sam probably wouldn’t touch the stuff. Well, he could eat it all himself. Small joys. He scooped up his armful of candy, barely keeping it together while his hands clutched a soda and a large bottle of Gatorade.
Clutching this precarious pile of sugar, he slowly shuffled over to the room, relieved to find the door open so he didn’t have to fumble with the doorknob, but surprised to see a voluptuous brunette in a royal blue blouse and black pencil skirt leaning over Sam’s bed. The two seemed to be deep in conversation. Who was this chick?
She didn’t look like a nurse, though Dean felt the side of his mouth curve upward as he thought about how her curves would look squeezed into the kind of vinyl white nurse’s uniform that college girls wear on Halloween. He made a mental note to save that image for later, when he had some alone time, and then noisily plopped his sugary goods onto an empty chair and sauntered up to Sam’s bed, rudely interrupting their conversation.
Knowing full well that he was attempting to cock block his sick bro, he stopped Sam mid-sentence. Yeah, he was a dick. But this was what old, swaggery Dean would do. Besides, small joys, right?
“Whatever you’re asking him, I’m sure I could give you a much more satisfying answer,” he said in a velvety voice. Then just to piss off Sam a little more, he added “You do know this guy is hopped up on pain pills, don't you? Not exactly a reliable source.”
Instead of getting mad, though, Sam just looked at him and burst out laughing. Okay, well, glad he got a kick out of it, but it wasn’t really that funny. Guess he hadn’t been exaggerating about Sam being messed up on pain meds. Dean switched his focus back to their unexpected but more than welcome visitor, attempting to catch her eyes while flashing his most seductive and disarming smile. “Hi, I’m De-“
Her eyes.
The world came to a stop as she raised her eyes to meet his. In some distant part of his brain, he knew that Sam was still experiencing the aftershocks of his laughing fit, but he couldn’t actually hear it. Everything had gone silent.
He looked into her eyes – those infinite, piercing blue sapphire eyes – and even before she tilted her head slightly and gave him that familiar quizzical stare, he knew.
“Cas?”
“Hello Dean.”
He would say that he was in a state of disbelief, but he believed it instantly. Though the voice that had come out of this woman’s soft, plump mouth was delectably feminine, it was also indisputably Cas. It was husky – and dammit, sexy. Yet it still had the same monotone and precise pronunciation, giving equal weight to each syllable. Even if she hadn’t said a word, though, all he had to do was look into those eyes, and he’d know it couldn’t be anyone else.
“Jesus Christ. What the hell, Cas? Is that really you?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.
“Yes, Dean, though I assume since you are addressing me by name you are aware that I am now inhabiting a new vessel.”
Dean’s eyes flicked toward the body that still lay in a heap in the next bed. The body he’d been thinking of as Cas, but was really just an earthly form that he was renting. Then his eyes flicked back to Cas – the real Cas – who was standing right in front of him, still staring intently at him. “Yeah…new vessel,” he eeked out, “Nice…new…vessel.”
At that, Sam erupted in laughter once again. Dean felt a blush creeping up his neck and undoubtedly reddening his cheeks. If he was able to take his eyes off of this new Cas for a moment, he would have glared at Sam. As it was, he was still transfixed.
“My previous vessel had been rendered unusable, as you are no doubt aware. I located a blood relative of Jimmy Novak’s and convinced her to allow me to inhabit her form, at least until I can properly heal the previous vessel and return.”
Blood relative. That made sense. The posture, the mannerisms, the tone of voice, they were all Cas. And the way that he – she, I guess – looked so deeply into him, he would have known it was Cas if it was an 80 year old grandmother, or a shit tzu for that matter. But beyond the unmistakable Cas-ness there were also traces of a physical resemblance to the trench coat wearing man he’d come to identify with the angel. Not least of which were those perfect blue eyes. It was comforting and yet at the same time completely unnerving.
The silence was beginning to feel awkward as the wheels of his mind kept churning. Cas remained characteristically oblivious to social conventions that would have inspired others to insert meaningless chatter into the empty space long ago. Sam, meanwhile, just looked back and forth between the two of them, lips pressed tight as if he were stifling another laugh. Dean had to think of something to say.
“Well, that’s great, Cas. Really terrific. Just glad you’re alive and okay.” And he meant it. The shock of seeing Cas in this new body had momentarily outweighed the relief he felt at knowing that Cas was still okay, but now he let that relief flood in. “So what now, you lay some of your magic-hand-action onto Jimmy over here and then get your Freaky Friday going?”
“I am not certain what you mean by Freaky Friday, but yes, I do intend to lay hands on my previous vessel and heal it. I do not expect that it will be something I can do immediately, however, or something that can be completed in a single instance. His body is in very poor shape, and I am not presently at my full strength. I will wait until I have gathered my strength and then begin to facilitate the healing process. The medical professionals at this establishment appear to be doing an adequate job of preventing the body’s demise, despite the damage and the absence of any animating force, so I suggest the body remain here.”
“Yeah, Cas, no prob. That makes sense.” He hadn’t really thought about the fact that the body, from which Jimmy Novak’s soul had long since departed, was simply empty now without Cas in it. The breathing tubes and IVs that were hooked into his flesh were the only things keeping him alive now, like an organ that’s been donated and kept on ice so that it doesn’t deteriorate before being transplanted into a new body. The entire body existed in an in-between-state, awaiting new ownership or death.
“Of course, if I am not able to repair the body, I will have to remain in this form, though I would prefer not to compromise any more of Mr. Novak’s relatives. He has already sacrificed much.”
“Yeah, sure, you’ve gotta get back in your old body. You know, if you can. But if not, then…” and Dean once again found himself plunged into awkward silence, as the thought of Cas permanently inhabiting this luscious figure was enough to make his brain melt. He attempted a quick and lame follow-up. “Either way, you know, good to have you back. Great to see you, whoever you’re in.”
With that, he excused himself and rushed toward the bathroom, though he didn’t have to piss so much as just breathe. And not be in that room. Shit. What the fuck had just happened? And what was happening to him?
Five days later, Sam was still having tests done, and Cas was strong enough to start the healing. Cas was right that it couldn’t be done in one shot, though. The three of them talked it over and Sam and Dean thought it would freak the doctors out if they suddenly found Jimmy’s body with a perfectly straight spine and smooth unblemished skin, so they opted for a more subtle route. Cas would mend just a little bit at a time, trying to mimic the natural healing process so that it would seem at most an accelerated version of the doctor’s best-case recovery scenario.
Dean, meanwhile, found excuses to leave the hospital. He tried to rationalize it to himself. Sam and Cas had each other for company, so there was no use having him cooped up too. He checked in with Garth and Kevin Tran frequently, hoping that one of them would have a break in the case or would for some reason demand to see him immediately. But they didn’t, and he would have felt like an asshole for just leaving Sam entirely. So he went on brief outings, and spent a lot of time staring at his phone or vapidly watching the TV in the hospital waiting room. It was a far cry from his previous bedside vigil, but he knew that Sam and Cas were going to be okay, more or less, so he could relax a little, right?
Except that he wasn’t relaxed. And even Cas the Oblivious was beginning to notice that something was off.
Perhaps that's why he – she – ugh, Dean didn’t even know what pronoun to use in his own head so he just found himself substituting it with Cas – so perhaps that’s why Cas volunteered to join him when he popped his head into the room to tell Sam that he was going to head out for a couple of hours.
“Oh, that’s okay Cas, I really don’t need help. I’m just gonna drive around in the Impala, you know, get some fresh air, maybe a burger.”
“I would enjoy that as well. Do you object to my accompanying you?”
“No, of course - it’s just that we don’t want to leave Sam all alone –“
“I’ve got no problem with it. I was just gonna take a nap anyway.” Sam flashed a wide dopey grin, and Dean thought he could detect a hint of mischief in it.
“Yes, I would not leave Sam had he not previously suggested I accompany you on one of your outings.”
Suggested? Dammit, Sammy. The way Sam looked at him now, glassy-eyed and yet still so aware, made Dean want to hide under the nearest piece of furniture. Or punch Sammy in the face.
“So it is settled then? I will join you in the Imapla.”
Dean groaned silently, flashed mental daggers in Sam’s direction, and then reluctantly agreed. “Sure, yeah, join, whatever. Makes no difference to me.” Could this get any worse?
Yes, yes it could.
Right before Dean turned tail to walk out the door, Cas threw another curveball, walking over toward Jimmy’s bed and stopping to pick up the trench coat that was neatly folded on the adjacent chair.
If Sam laughed again, Dean decided, he would just kill him right here.
Because of course, Dean had to force himself to pretend like everything was perfectly normal, as this gorgeous figure slipped one arm, then another, into the trademark coat that had made its way to Purgatory and back. And though the experience of looking at new Cas was already unsettling, it was as if this laid the final piece in the transformation from Cas the angel/accountant to Cas the angel/crazy hot chick.
It might have been comical to see this woman with the shining blue eyes and ever-present overcoat, looking like someone had waved a magic wand and poof – Cas has boobs. If someone had described it to Dean before, he would have thought it was hilarious. But he didn’t want to laugh. What he wanted to do, seeing that tan trench draped over this body, so much longer than the black skirt that it was almost obscene, wavy brown hair cascading down the back….well, what he wanted to do, he didn’t even want to admit to himself. Even though it was probably written all over his face, for Sam and the world to see.
Dean had always found Cas’ cluelessness kind of endearing, even when he acted annoyed by it. But he had never so desperately hoped for Cas to remain clueless as he did now. Only there they were, standing in awkward silence yet again, and Dean couldn’t even think of something lame to say, so he just spun around and walked out the door. The click of high heels behind him told him that Cas was not far behind.
Once they were in the car, things seemed a little better. I mean, sure there was that moment when Dean had opened the door for Cas, feeling like a complete tool for doing so, and then feeling even more ridiculous as he watched Cas sit down, skirt riding up just a little bit, showing a smooth and perfect thigh. He felt himself stiffen like a teenager on his first date, and was glad Cas couldn’t see the flush of his face as he closed the door and headed towards his side of the car. He walked slowly, taking deep breaths and trying to visualize the most gruesome scenes from his walking nightmare of a life – decapitated heads, black goo, even a few scenes from hell. That seemed to do the trick. Mostly, anyway. He was still semi-hard when he got into the car, but shit happens, right? He shifted in his seat, turned the music up as loud as he could, and began singing along. “Life it seems will fade away, drifting further every day…”
He could drive like that forever, pretending it was just him and his baby, with some random passenger in Sam’s seat that was definitely not an angel, and definitely not his angel in a sinfully delicious form.
Of course, Cas couldn’t leave it like that.
“Dean.”
Sonofabitch. Dean pretended not to hear and kept singing away, adding percussive slaps to his wheel in an attempt to drown out every sound and thought.
“Dean.”
This is the kind of thing that made Cas’ cluelessness irritating. Sam understood that blasting music was code for “I don’t want to talk.” Most other people would at least stop if their initial attempt to engage in conversation yielded no results. But Cas was persistent. Dean knew that, so after the third time he heard his name called, he gave up and lowered the volume.
“Yeah, Cas, what is it?”
“You have been avoiding me.”
Just like Cas to launch right into it, no smooth transition, no “hey, what song is this?” Let’s just dive right into the deep end, right here, right now.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“There have been many instances in the last five days in which I attempted to engage in conversation with you, and you spoke few words and then stated that you had to leave, though you had voiced no prior intentions to do so. There have also been several instances in which I was speaking with Sam and sensed your presence as you approached the door, but felt you withdraw once you came within listening range. I am not certain why this is the case, but I have not witnessed you approaching Sam’s door and then turning around in times when I am outside in the waiting area, so I am left to conclude that this is only something that you do when I am also in the room. You have also left on multiple occasions when –“
“Okay, okay, I get it. Alright, yeah, maybe I do know what you’re talking about. But do we really have to talk about it?”
“We are talking about it.”
Yeah, they were. I guess they were really going to have this conversation. Shit, were they really going to have this conversation? Dean didn’t think he could drive and simultaneously carry on some emo heart-to-heart with the new and apparently estrogen-charged Cas, so he just pulled over into a parking lot behind a shut-down shopping mart.
“So yeah, I may have been avoiding you. I’m sorry. No offense.”
“I am not offended by you. It is I who have offended you. I understand this. I have betrayed your trust on multiple occasions, and I do not fault you for avoiding me. I only hope that I can someday make amends for my failings.”
Oh, geez. Now the guilt. “Cas, no…Cas, it’s not that.” And now, Dean couldn’t help but lift his eyes from the spot on his knee that he had been focusing intently upon and look right into his friend’s blue eyes. They were full of remorse, and Dean was tempted to reach out and hug her. Yes, it was definitely a ‘her’ now, he couldn’t deny it any longer. But he knew that touching her was the absolute last thing that he needed to do right now. So he tried to explain. “I mean, yeah, I’m disappointed that you didn’t trust me, didn’t trust us enough to let us help you protect the tablets.”
“Yes, I see now that I was incapable of protecting the tablets on my own, and it is possible that they would have been far safer if I had agreed to your initial proposal and remained with you and Sam.”
“Well, yeah. Damn right.”
“I am truly sorry, Dean.”
“It’s okay, Cas. I forgive you.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I mean, I wish you’d trusted me, but you know, at least you didn’t kill me. So there’s that.”
“That is correct, though I did slaughter many replications of you in preparation for that confrontation.”
“You did? What? When?”
“When I was being brainwashed by Naomi. She must have ascertained that my allegiance to you was a threat to my ability to serve her and her interests, so she forced me to kill dozens of versions of you so that I would be able to do so unthinkingly when confronted with you in person.”
“Wow. Okay. Crazy shit. But you didn’t. That’s – that’s actually amazing. You overcame brainwashing by an evil angel who trained you to kill me. That’s like something out of a Harrison Ford movie. Fuckin’ A. Nice work, Cas.”
“I could not kill the real you. There is nothing in this world or beyond it that could force me to do so. I would sooner die by my own sword.”
“Okay, well, that’s not necessary. So, yeah, all is forgiven, yada yada yada, we’re still friends, no worries, okay? Understood?”
“Yes, I understand. Though now I am confused again as to why you have been avoiding me, if not due to anger.”
Fuck. He almost thought he’d be able to get out of this car without actually talking about this. Well, he’d never been lucky before, guess it wasn’t gonna start now.
It was funny, because while Cas had been confessing and he had been forgiving, he almost forgot about the elephant in the car. The sexy, curvy, elephant. Damn, his mind was weird.
They were stuck in silence yet again and Dean knew that Cas would not break the silence until Dean said something. They were locked into another one of their stares, which he had somehow managed to avoid these past five days. Now that they were no longer speaking, Dean found himself again drinking in the sight of her.
Well, fuck, he was just gonna have to say it.
“Cas, the reason I’ve been avoiding you…” He wanted to put it gingerly. How was he even supposed to say this? “The reason I’ve been avoiding you…”
“Yes, Dean.”
“Is because you’re a chick now.”
“I do not understand.”
“Your body, your…your new vessel. It’s weird seeing you like this. It’s freaking me out, actually.”
“Why do you find my vessel freakish? I believed it to be a perfectly serviceable and acceptable looking vessel.” Dean thought he could hear a tinge of hurt in Cas’ voice. Fuckin’ women.
This was not going to be any kind of easy.
“It’s not freakish, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying I’m freaked – and that’s all on me here – I just find it – disorienting – seeing you like this. I’m used to you being a guy, is all.”
“Oh.”
Cas still looked perplexed, though at least she didn’t look offended.
“But you are aware that as an angel, I have no gender. I have inhabited several forms. You have witnessed me take possession of Claire Novak. Did that also disturb you?”
“Well, yeah, actually, that was kinda freaky too now that I think about it. But it was different. Claire was a little girl. You’re a woman now. And you’re…I like women.”
“Yes, I am aware of that, Dean.”
“So, sometimes when I look at you, I have thoughts.”
“Naturally, when you view me, you internalize a visual representation of me. This is always true.”
Fuckin’ Cas. Now the cluelessness was fully annoying, because it meant that he’d actually have to spell it out. But he still couldn’t bring himself to say the words. How do you tell your angelic best friend that you kinda want to fuck their brains out?
“I have different kinds of thoughts than I had when you were in the other body,” he continued dumbly. “I have thoughts…like….the Pizza man….had…about the babysitter.”
Jesus. Could he sound like a bigger moron? He was seriously smoother when he was 16 years old and trying to get to 3rd base with Becky Hanson. Not that he was trying to round bases here. But he was beginning to wish that he had Cas’ power to suddenly vanish, because he would totally take advantage of that right now.
Maybe Cas would, and save them both the humiliation. Realization was beginning to dawn on her face. Finally! “Oh.”
They waited a moment in silence, and then before he knew what was happening, he felt the back of his head slam lightly against the driver’s-side window. It took another second for him to register the fact that he had been pushed into position by Cas, who now had her lips on his, and – ohmyGod this was actually happening.
What the fuck? Full panic mode. He was going to protest. He was going to push her off him. He was going to calmly tell her that this was not his intention and this was a terrible idea. Any minute now, he was going to do all of this, because it really and truly was a terrible idea.
But not right now. Because now his lips were parting and so were hers and he felt her tongue against his own, and her hands slide down his sides and for the second time in less than a week, his world stood completely still.
Everything faded to black, except for her and the feeling of her on his lips, on his tongue, her hands on his body. The only things that existed were the parts of his body that she was touching. He wanted more, needed more, and without a thought reached under the trench coat and brought his hands around her firm, round ass, scooping her into position on his lap. Her skirt rode up further as she straddled him, and yes, this was better. His hands were on her and her hands were on him, and her legs were on his, and now, with just a slight shift, he could finally feel her on every part of him. He tilted his hips up so that the rock hard cock now straining through his jeans made contact. He ground her down onto him and felt her gasp in his mouth.
Sparks flew. Literally.
Outside the car, sparks showered down from the parking lot lights. It was only because some small part of his brain registered this that he suddenly became aware of the world around them. The sparks reminded him of the first time they met in that abandoned warehouse. Cas sure knew how to make an entrance.
Cas. This was Cas. What were they doing? He stopped kissing her, and gently attempted to pull her away from him. But she would have none of that. She switched focus, sliding her tongue along the ridge of his ear, and grinding down harder on him, and he felt the world begin to melt away again. With herculean effort, he steeled himself and willed the world into sharper focus.
“Cas. Cas. We need to stop.”
He swore he could hear her whimper, and she pulled away from him, panting, yet as direct and precise as ever. “I do not wish to stop.”
“Yeah. No. I do not wish to stop either. I mean, I don’t wanna stop.”
“Good,” she chirped, and leaned in again, as if this had somehow settled the matter.
“No, no, no, stop, really, you have to…”
“But you said you do not wish to stop.”
“Yes, I know. And I don’t. But we have to.”
“Why?”
“Well…” Dean didn’t actually have an answer. She’s right. Why did they need to stop? Why on earth would they ever stop this? But he knew somewhere in his brain, the parts that weren’t currently registering the way her body still pressed against him and all the ways he wanted to keep feeling her, somewhere, there was a reason. He just couldn’t remember it.
“Okay. I…have an answer. Uh, but I’m gonna have to put you back in your seat first.”
That was definitely a whimper this time. He lifted her – God, that ass – and sat her back down on her side of the car. His body screamed protest at the separation, and it was as if hers did as well, as if he could feel threads connecting them beginning to tear and it all seemed like a terrible injustice.
But now, he could breathe. And think. Sort of. Reasons. Why couldn’t they do this?
“Because…you’re Cas. And I’m…” These were not good reasons. “Well, for one thing, I’m pretty sure when this woman invited an angel into her body, it wasn’t so that angel could use her body to fuck a guy in a Shop-n-Save parking lot.” There. That was a reason.
“You raise a valid point. Although compared to the violence that Jimmy Novak’s body was exposed to, this is hardly an inconvenience. I believe most women would be extremely pleased to be in this position. Also, she is not fully aware of what is taking place.” The tone was flat and even as ever, and the argument was logical, but Dean could still sense a pleading edge to it. Like she would say anything to get them back in contact. Now she was the 16 year old trying to round bases.
“Yeah…sure…but, I know that Jimmy said he could tell that he was shot at and stabbed, and…I don’t want to have sex with someone’s body without their permission.”
Cas let out a sigh of resignation. “It is true. Though Jimmy was not typically conscious of what was happening while I inhabited his form, he was aware of violations of the bodily integrity of the vessel. I do suppose that, much as being penetrated with a bullet would bring body and mind into full accord, being penetrated with your – “
“Cas. Stop talking.”
“Why? I was just going to say –“
“Seriously. Please. Stop. Talking.”
And this was why it had to stop. Because it was true that he didn’t want to violate the unfortunately gorgeous woman who had agreed to be Cas’ vessel. But he also didn’t want to violate their friendship. And this was still completely, 100% Cas. Though the air still hung with heat, and the hard-on still raged in his pants, he was now brought fully back to reality, and the potential complications of this setup were just overwhelming.
They sat in silence for a while. “May I please offer a suggestion, or would that be contrary to your request that I cease speaking?”
“Sure, Cas, fire away. I’m open to suggestions here.”
“I see your point about using this body to have sex without the consent of the owner. Though I still contend that any woman would be fortunate to have this opportunity with you.”
Geez, who knew Cas was such a sweet talker. He didn’t think he could feel any warmer, but now he felt a blush creeping up, hot around his neck.
“However, I am fairly certain that merely kissing would not constitute a major breach of consent. Prior to this evening, I would have surmised that a kiss would not even be of sufficient consequence to reach the consciousness of a vessel’s original owner. Now, though, I am not so confident in this assumption. I felt an extremely powerful reaction to kissing you.”
“Yeah, you’re telling me.”
“I do not recall having such a powerful reaction when kissing Meg, though I did find it pleasurable at the time. In retrospect, however, the difference between that kiss and this one seems comparable to the difference between a rainstorm and a hurricane.”
“Ha. Gettin’ poetic now, are we? Yeah, I have that effect.” He couldn’t help being a little bit of a dick, if only to put off having to voice his own feelings about the kiss.
But Cas, as usual, was relentless.
“Perhaps that is because she was a demon, and you are a human? Was that similar to your other experiences kissing humans? Or…angels?” she asked, and there was just a hint of jealousy at the last bit.
Ahh, Anna. Yes, this kiss was worlds away from any kiss he’d ever had with any woman – not even Lisa could compare, and she had previously been his gold standard. If it weren’t for Anna, he might be able to chalk this up to some crazy magic that happens when an angel and a human make contact. But while his experience with Anna was something he would have previously described as intense, the entire concept of intensity had to be redefined in light of what had just happened.
Cas looked at him – or rather, into him – those blue eyes boring holes into his soul like only the one who saved it could. He couldn’t lie.
“No…” he may as well just say it all, “I’ve never felt anything like that when kissing other women. Or angels.”
“So you also found it to be a uniquely powerful experience?”
“Yes.”
“And a positive one?”
“Oh hell yes.” Why even try to pretend it was anything else.
“So, returning to my proposal, I suggest that we continue to kiss, even if we cannot consummate our union in this vessel.”
Sonofabitch.
Dean had completely forgotten that this was leading up to a suggestion. And it was a great suggestion. I mean, who could argue with that. Best kiss of your life, no harm done to the body, so why on earth would he want to stop this?
But there were reasons. For one, he wasn’t sure if he could keep kissing and touching Cas and maintain his gentlemanly stance on the no-sex rule. I mean, there’s only so much a man can take. And despite Cas’ agreement with the ethics of the decision, he had a feeling she would be willing to throw ethics out the window if he suggested they take it further.
Again, though, this was a convenient cover for the deeper issue. The more complicated issue that Dean couldn’t even fully explain to himself, but that he knew was a problem. They were friends. Cas was his best friend. His angel. His family. His…well, before this week, he would have said his brother. And no matter what Chuck’s slash fans wrote, this was not the kind of activity he would engage in with a brother.
But Cas was different. Seeing Cas in this form, feeling her, kissing her, he had to admit that Cas had always been different. Not quite family, but something just as deep. And now that this barrier had been crossed, could they ever go back to being what they were? How would it work if they didn’t? Jimmy’s body was healing, and Cas intended to return to it. Would they stop kissing then? Or, issue of dubious consent out of the way, would they take it even further, swallow each other whole the way they so clearly wanted to now?
He felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought of it.
Dean wasn’t sure what scenario he found more alarming: the possibility that he would lead Cas on and then call it quits once the next body switch happened, potentially breaking Cas’ heart and maybe even destroying their friendship; or the possibility that he would want to continue this even when Cas was back to living inside a suit-wearing stubble-sporting accountant.
This was really getting to be too much. His brain was hurting.
Cas sat waiting for him in silence, as usual.
“Look, Cas, that was amazing. I mean, really. Fuckin’ outstanding. But I’m not sure if we should keep doing that. I just don’t know if it’s a good idea. And I can’t really explain why, but I – I just need some time to clear my head and figure out what’s what. I – you’re very important to me. I don’t want this to get in the way.”
Cas looked like she was going to object to this, but she must have caught sight of the look in his eyes, because she stopped before saying a word. He took the opportunity to emphasize his need. “Please,” he said, “let’s just put this on hold. Let’s see what’s going on with Sam, and focus on healing Jimmy’s body, and let’s just put this aside for now. We can come back to it later.” He said this even though he wasn’t sure he would ever really have a satisfying answer for any of this.
Again, Cas looked like she wanted to argue and explain, and do anything to keep driving home the unarguable fact that the physical distance between them was a fucking travesty. But instead, her expression softened, and she just said, “Of course, Dean. Thank you for forgiving me."
"No problem."
"And Dean?"
"Yeah, Cas?"
"I hope that you do not continue to avoid me once we have returned to the hospital.”
“I won’t.”
“Do you promise?”
And the way she said it, he almost wanted to make fun of her for being such a girl, but I guess…well, she was, so that wasn’t really an insult. So instead he answered her, soft and genuine.
“Yes, I promise.”