Destiel Oneshots

Steel-Blue Universe

Quote Prompt: "Those eyes of yours could swallow the stars, the galaxies. They could swallow the very universe itself. What hope did I ever have?"

     The angel's eyes are the first thing Dean notices. They're a steel blue, bright and burning, and he swears he's never seen anything like it. The depths of power and pain threaten to swallow him whole, and he honest-to-God nearly staggers backward, wide-eyed, as the angel's gaze is pinned on him. He knows, he feels it in his gut: the power in those eyes could implode universes. That's his first memory of Cas, an impression of power and unearthly being. Now, after years of love and pain and hate and trust- and just about every other feeling imaginable- he knows what's hidden in the depths. 

     He knows, now. He knows that it's not simply power or duty that drives Cas to act, to protect. Dean has seen his actions too many times to think that anymore. He knows that it's boundless love that drives his actions. He's seen the pain inflicted on Cas, and he knows that his angel is strong beyond anything Dean can realistically comprehend. He's seen the trust and love in Cas's eyes before, and it's attached to too many painful memories to count.

     Those same piercing blues stare at him, through him- he can feel it- from the other side of the Impala. He shifts in his seat, gripping the wheel. He reaches forward, stopping the music he'd had playing during the impromptu late-night drive he'd decided to take. He'd found himself leaving the bunker alone to clear his head more and more often lately. He's not sure if it's the eerie quiet or the absence of Cas- there, present, safe- that keeps him awake at night, and he doesn't know if he wants to be sure. 

     The driving's easier, anyhow. Less thinking, less talking. 

     "Cas?" he says, softly, unsure of why he'd appeared in the front of the Impala.

     "Hello, Dean."

     Dean exhales shakily, looking at Cas quickly, then turning back to the road. It's too much, almost. The quiet is shaky, unsure, and Cas's face silhouetted in the moonlight is too much. In the dark, like this, he's all shadows and angles, and his eyes are darkened in a way that turns the steely blue into a grey black.

     He's got questions, so many questions, but he'll take the shaky quiet over radio silence. That's all that's been between them lately, with Cas being away so often. Dean knows that he's busy, that he's got missions he's got to complete, but he can't help but feel that the silence is intentional, and the thought creates muddled feelings. It's a risky truth to admit, but he misses the angel. 

     "Cas," he starts, uncharacteristically shaky and unsure. "What's going on?"

     Cas, instead of answering, turns towards him. Dean swallows as he tilts his head towards him and furrows his brows. "Dean, I don't understand."

     "Cas, I-" he says quietly. "I don't know what to say. You're always gone, off on one mission or another, and I get that, I do, but you almost never come back to the bunker. You never come back to visit, to talk..." 

     Dean lets his voice trail off, unsure of what to say next. Cas is still staring at him, and a sliver of moonlight slants across his face. His brows are scrunched tightly together, and his face is stony, unreadable. 

     "Cas, you stop at the bunker, but you never stay. You never come to see me." He coughs. "Or Sam." 

     Dean hates how the hurt has bled into his voice. It's not something he should be hurting over. He shouldn't be hurting at all. But this one, simple thing has hurt him so much and he doesn't understand. He and Cas share a 'profound bond' and all that, sure, but the life they all lead- him, Cas, Sam- it's not like they could all stay in one spot and never leave.