The Heavier Things
Supernatural fics that deal in heavier topics, such as musings on bodily autonomy and abuse.
(Closed, Unmoderated)
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Summary
Dean and Castiel understand each other more than anyone else. They misunderstand each other more than anyone else as well.
After Cas is nearly killed by Ramiel, Dean is coming very close to acknowledging that he wants something more from Cas than friendship. Cas, however, feels the weight of his responsibility very heavily. When Dean asks Cas to stick around longer, Cas says he needs to keep looking for Kelly, leaving Dean feeling dejected.
But Cas agrees to help out on one more hunt before he leaves. Neither him nor Dean realize that the monster they're after can make their worst nightmares come true.
OR: Dean thinks Cas is killed. Cas is there to witness the aftermath.
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Dean gets sick on the drive home from a solo hunt.
Cas shows up just in time to help out.
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"You did this to yourself on purpose,” Cas deduces quietly as he drags his eyes up from the hunter's forearm, looking a little gut-wrenched at the realization but concealing it fairly well. At least one of them has to remain composed right now.
Dean doesn’t respond, but his eyebrows crinkle near-imperceptibly as he works hard to keep his face steeled.
It’s not imperceptible to Cas, though; not this close together. That little crinkle of his eyebrows is as clear of a confirmation as ever.
(TLDR: 5 times that Dean deflected speculations from his loved ones about his self-harming secret, and 1 time that he finally lets himself be taken care of and cry it out fr!)
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Dean's drunk enough that he can’t get the tears to stop flowing, but sober enough to be humiliated at the fact that he’s crying silently to himself in the bar on Valentine’s Day.
A fresh glass slides across the counter. The kind bartender pushes it close enough towards him that it comes into his field of view even despite his leaned-over, face-shielded, tear-hiding position.
His shame is visible, as is his grief.
TLDR: 3 months after Cas's passing, Dean makes his way to a bar for Valentine's Day. Everyone around him is looking for love, but Dean is struggling to handle Valentine's without his own by his side. A drunk drive home, a savior, many many tears, and a happy/hopeful ending ensue! :)
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Dean had never thought much about his hands. They were just a set of tools, an extension of the body which was not much more than a tool itself. Dean had never spent much time thinking about any part of him because he realized pretty early on that it didn’t matter what he thought about his body or even what happened to it.
or: like a fist. like a knife.