#riighteousman

“This whole, ‘leave Mattie out of stuff to protect him’ thing? It’s old, it’s stupid, and it doesn’t work. I’m 16, I’m not a kid anymore!”

                                               . . .just like I trust you.

independent DEAN WINCHESTER and JO HARVELLE from cw’s supernatural ! written by bree and red !

life is a curious thing. he has seen the pain, and the joy it can bring. he’s seen the celebrations, and the failures -- both in himself, and his friends, his family. he’s sure he cannot count on both hands the amount of mistakes he’s made. but, they were his mistakes. ones he chose to make -- all by himself. ( an angel with free will seems to be a dangerous thing. ) despite them all, all the failings and misfortunes, he still finds himself a spot at the small kitchen table. softened eyes watch the other across from him. he watches as dean’s hands wave as he speaks -- an exaggerated story pouring from his lips. and, by the corner of his eyes, cas spots the crows feet beginning to show. there’s a soft flutter in his chest he notices, but he decides to keep it to himself. cas adjusts in his seat, his elbows moving to rest against the table, as he leans closer to dean. “so, you jumped off the roof as well ? why would you do that ?”

alcohol blurs his thoughts. he has learned from his company the benefits of drinking to forget. ( of course, he forgot to stop drinking once he forgot [ . . . ] well, that’s the whole point, right ? ) forehead rests against his palm, eyes sewed shut to keep the lights out -- to keep his vision from tilting to its side. dean’s voice is loud. louder than castiel thinks it should be -- yet, he keeps his small quip to himself. instead, his head lifts slightly, blue eyes find green ones. the corner of his lips dip down, as his eyes narrow at the other. “then stand.”

tiredness has attached itself to his form. even with this new, stolen grace back intact, he finds himself longing to lay under blankets -- to let his eyes slip close, to drift into slumber. though, he’s sure now it will be more difficult. blue eyes drift over the book resting open on the table. he should be able to focus, but as he reads and rereads over the words, he finds nothing of import. dean’s voice pulls his focus away. brows furrow softly as he glances up towards the other. ( he looks worried. ) cas nods his head slightly, as his hand presses the book closed. “alright.” the angel stands from the chair, making a point to catch dean’s eyes before he turns away. “can we watch one you haven’t already shown me, this time ?”