#like bestie dean told you he wanted to do the trials so he could die wdym it’s about you
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Rewrite the Stars- Part 2
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MASTERLIST - PRELUDE - PART 1 - PART 3
Summary: You (a demon) and Cas (an angel) share a forbidden love, much to Dean’s disgust. The ultimate sacrifice finally proves your loyalty to the angel in the Winchester’s eyes but by then it’s too late. When the opportunity arises for Sam to save you from a lifetime of torment he takes it, but how will Dean and Cas react to your return from hell?
A/N: Guys, even if you’re not into Castiel or Cas x Reader fics I think this is a chapter worth reading, especially if you’re a Dean girl/guy ;)
Series Characters: Reader x Castiel, Sam, Dean, Bobby, Crowley Characters this chapter: Reader, Sam, Bobby, Dean, Crowley (Where the hell is Cas??!) Words: 2858 Genre: Angst Warnings: Show-level violence
A flash of light stirred you into consciousness, though you didn’t open your eyes. Your head was lolling about while the rest of your body was gripped tightly against a warm, hard, possibly chiselled chest. What? You were still a woman!
Boots came toward you and you felt yourself being lowered gently to the ground. You were unsure if this was friend or foe so decided to play dead a little longer, but when a third man spoke you couldn’t help your eyes shoot open in surprise.
Why the heck did you picture a squirrel just now?
The 3rd man approached Sam and gave him a tight hug, before turning to Bobby and doing the same.
“Good to see you boy,” Bobby told Squirrel, who smiled broadly in response. He cleared his throat before turning back to Sam.
“So, bringing home strays Sam? From hell no less,” he asked, looking you over with curiosity. As his eyes met yours you felt a flash of resentment flow through you at the sight of this man, though the reasoning for it of course escaped you. He stared at you in shock before stepping back.
“I-is… is that…” he spluttered.
“I found her as we were getting out of there Dean, I couldn’t leave her behind.”
DEAN! The man you didn’t like for some reason had a name!
“Jesus. Um, ok, let’s just get this trial done and then we’ll figure out what to do next,” he said, turning back to Bobby. “Ready to go home?”
“Well, I’m sure as hell not staying here,” he grumbled. “No offense to you boys but I’m ready to stick my feet up with a whiskey and a book without the end of the world hanging over my head.”
“None taken, have a couple on us,” Sam told him, and you could easily hear the fondness in his voice as he spoke. You didn’t know these men anymore but you could tell they were important to each other. Were you as important to them once upon a time, you wondered?
“Alright, let's put this old man where he belongs,” Dean declared, handing a book to Sam. He nodded and read the incantation inside and as he did Bobby started to glow brightly. You squinted your eyes as the light grew brighter.
“Solvo haec phantasmata in terram, et inde ad olympum. Kah-nuh-ahm-dahr”
The light was blinding as it reached its apex, and you had to close your eyes or else risk going blind. The light dimmed behind your eyelids, and you opened them slightly to see what was happening only to find Bobby was gone. A panicked voice broke through the silence of the woods around you.
“Sam? What? What?! Talk to me! What?!”
You tried to sit up to see what was happening, and were alarmed to see the man who saved your life was now doubled over in pain. Dean was holding him up, shouting at him trying to rouse him from whatever was happening. You tried to stand and offer assistance, you wanted to help the man who helped you, but you quickly fell back to the earth with a thud when your arms were too weak to hold you up.
“Sam?” you called out in concern.
“It's okay! It's okay! It's okay, I'm fine. It's done. It's done,” Sam panted, managing a small smile of reassurance to both of you. As he slowly stood up from bended knee, a charming english accent broke the silence behind you.
“Stealing my flock Winchesters?”
Another one? Why couldn’t these men just let you rest? You were glad to be out of hell sure but at least you could heal in your cell. The pain you were experiencing now was just getting worse and you were just feeling weaker as time went on. All you wanted was to close your eyes and sleep. Or die.
“Screw you Crowley, even you know Bobby didn’t belong in hell,” Dean scolded.
“He did if I say he did. He'd inflicted untold damage on my kind. From where I sit, actually, Hell was too good for him. But no matter, what’s done is done. Can’t get him back from heaven of all places. Her on the other hand…”
“You leave her alone,” Sam hissed, still in pain. You could barely lift your head, but if you could have lifted your hand you’d at least have given him a thumbs up.
“And you care why? You never did before,” Crowley countered with a chuckle. “Oh, so you’re telling me that all anyone has to do to get in your good books is save your feathered friend? I feel like we should be besties by now in that case.”
“We’re taking her with us,” Dean told him firmly.
“Do you even know what she is?” You could hear his footsteps approach you, and gave a small cry when he kicked you hard in the back.
“Hey!” Sam shouted in anger.
Crowley just chuckled. “Fine, have your fun. But just remember, you stole not one but two of my prisoners tonight, and I won’t let that go lightly. You know me, I tend to hold a grudge. See you around gents.”
And just like that, he was gone. You watched as Sam and Dean stood there looking confused, and you decided to break the silence.
“Well, we’re boned.”
The men drew their eyes down to you, laying on the ground and now sopping wet from the dew on the grass, and stepped over to you. Sam went to lift you but Dean gave a disgruntled huff and stepped in front of him, lifting you more roughly that you’d have liked. You still didn’t trust this “Dean” yet though, so with a view to not piss him off any more you bit your tongue to stop yourself from crying out in pain.
Those black dots started dancing in your vision again, and as you approached a sleek black car you lost your battle with consciousness.
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Red. Screaming. Burning flesh. Blood. So much blood.
You opened your eyes abruptly, holding back the urge to scream. You took a deep breath and swallowed back the bile you felt rising to your throat. You’re not in hell Y/N, you told yourself. There’s a soft mattress underneath you, and you’re covered in a blanket not made of human skin but instead wool. You knew which one you preferred, and gently rubbed the soft material over your cheek comfortingly.
You heard someone stir next to you and froze in fear. While your new digs were especially comfy, you actually had no idea where you were. You were still exceptionally sore, so a quick escape was out of the question. Keeping your head on the soft fluffy pillow, you tilted it up slightly so you could see who was in the room with you. Dean’s tired gaze stared back at you, and you squinted your eyes in annoyance. Now you wish you’d feigned sleep.
“Nightmare?” he asked with a frown. It appeared he wished you’d faked sleep a little longer also. You cleared your throat and tested your voice.
“Yer. Hell stuff.”
“Been there. Literally.”
You raised a curious eyebrow but decided to let it go for now. Now that you realised you had company you decided to try and sit up, and very gently you put your hands on the mattress and lifted yourself. Dean didn’t help, but you felt like you didn’t want it anyway.
“Where am I?” you asked curiously, finally having a proper look around. You’d have guessed a hospital were it not for the lack of windows. Everything was clean, obviously a spare room that wasn’t used.
“The bunker,” he replied, as if you were supposed to know what that meant.
“Yer um, I’m sorry. You obviously know me, and I guess I must know you but I can’t…” you trailed off, your head already hurting from the strain of it all. You brought your fingers to your face and massaged the bridge of your nose.
Dean was clearly surprised by this turn of events. “Wait, you don’t remember anything? But you called out to Sam…”
“The other guy, Bobby, he called him that. And Sam named Bobby for me. And then Bobby called you Dean. And then the English guy showed up and you called him Crowley. Other than feeling a serious resentment toward you for no apparent reason, that’s all I know.”
He raised an eyebrow at your response, and gave a small humourless smirk. “So, you hate me. But you don’t know why?”
“Well, I have a feeling you hated me first,” you replied in defence.
Dean only nodded. “Fair enough. How long was it for you? Down there I mean.”
You closed your eyes and thought about it. What you had to endure made the whole experience seem like a lifetime but you knew there was a timestamp on it.
“40 years, I think,” you told him, opening your eyes with a sigh. “Maybe longer. It’s all a bit of a blur.”
You watched him as he nodded again, deep in thought.
“You guys knew me before I went down. How long have I been gone?”
“About 5 months,” he told you, leaning forward and clasping his hands in front of him as his elbows rested on his knees. “So, it was about 50 years down there for you.”
“How-how can you be sure?” you asked nervously. How did this man know so much about it?
“Like I said… been there.”
You opened your eyes wide, and pulled the blanket up to your chin protectively. You really couldn’t figure out what to think about Dean, but confirmation that he’d been to hell didn’t exactly fill you with confidence that he was one of the good guys.
“How did I die?” you dared to ask, your voice so quiet you weren’t sure he’d hear you.
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You were killed saving a friend of mine.”
“You mean Sam?”
“No, no, Sam’s my brother. You haven’t seen him yet since you came up. We’ve tried to reach out to him but he’s not answering.”
You furrowed your brow as you tried to picture this man, but drew a blank. “Crowley said something about a feathered friend. Is this the man I saved? What did he mean? Do you and Sam have feathers too?”
Dean burst out laughing, but quickly covered it with a cough. You frowned in annoyance and sat your hands in your lap, now sitting at full attention despite the pain you were feeling.
“No, he’s an Angel. His name is Castiel.”
It was like a bolt of lightning hit your head when that name rolled off Dean’s tongue. You stared at him in shock as your head started to fill with images of a life before this one. A life that felt like it belonged to you, but not you at the same time. You gasped out loud and moved back without thinking, falling off the bed in the process. Dean shouted your name in alarm but you barely heard him, the images in your head kept coming and you pushed yourself against the wall holding your head. Dean jumped over the bed and knelt in front of you, looking at you with concern as your eyes filled with tears. You held the sides of your head in your hands, your fingers run through the strands of your hair, and you looked at him as you sobbed.
“Cas?” you cried, the tears falling.
Dean looked panicked. “You remember him?”
“I remember everything,” you whispered.
You held a hand to your chest, you could practically feel the blade slicing between your ribs as it went through. You felt the bile rise and quickly lifted yourself off the ground and to the adjoining bathroom, dry retching into the sink. Footsteps followed you, and you could feel a presence at your back as you spat into the basin.
“You don’t have to be here,” you told Dean coldly. You remembered now, how much he hated you, how many times he’d tried to get rid of you over the years.
“Well, tough it out princess because until you’re back in that bed I’m staying.”
“Why do you care?” you shouted angrily, spinning around too quickly and losing your footing. Before your head could hit the sink Dean jumped forward and grabbed you under your arms, lifting yourself to him and ducking his head so your arm was now around his shoulders and he was supporting you.
“Because I was wrong,” he admitted. “You saved him and got yourself killed in the process and… and I owe you for that.”
You raised your eyebrows in surprise at the confession, and let him more or less carry you to the bed. You didn’t respond, you really didn’t know how to, and as he gently sat you down you hissed in pain.
“Let me see,” he asked, lifting your shirt so it just sat under your bosom. Underneath revealed the light bandaging the brothers had done to help you heal, and he lightly rolled it off to reveal the angry wounds underneath. “You know, for a demon you’re not healing very quickly.”
“Can you please go?” you asked him quietly, all fight in you gone. You hated that you sounded like a little girl, and couldn’t help but cringe. “I just want to rest.”
Dean looked at you with pity in his eyes, but let your shirt fall. “OK, I’ll go check on Sam.”
“Is he ok?” you asked, suddenly remembering the beating he himself took when he returned Bobby to heaven.
Dean shrugged. “He’ll be fine, just needs some rest as well.”
As he started to close the door behind him you called out one last time. “I’m sorry. About Bobby. He was one of the good ones.”
He stopped in his tracks, not looking at you. You thought he was going to ignore you but in the end he replied as he closed the door the rest of the way.
“Thank you.”
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“Cas if you don’t get your stubborn feathery ass down here I’m gonna…”
“You’ll what?” Sam asked with a wry grin.
“I’ll… think of something,” Dean told him, giving up and heading to the fridge. “You’d think the man would come down here for Y/N of all people.”
Sam was sitting at the dining table, glass of water in hand as he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair.
“He hasn’t answered us since she died Dean, he probably thinks we’re lying to get him down here.”
“Well then, how do we get him here? He needs to know she’s alive!” Dean asked angrily, taking a sip of his beer before sitting down at the table also.
They’d not seen the angel for 5 months, since you’d died. He’d disappeared as soon as the light left your eyes, leaving the brothers to give you the hunter’s funeral they finally felt you deserved. He’d not resurfaced since, and it was a constant concern for Sam and Dean.
“All we can do is help her readjust, and hope that in time he’ll realise what’s happened and find his way back,” Sam shrugged, lifting himself onto his feet. “I think I’ll go check on her.”
He opened your door slightly, listening for any indication that you were sleep. However when all he could hear was laboured breathing his brow furrowed in concern. He opened the door all the way, allowing some light from the hallway to shine through, and stepped over to the mattress. It was immediately obvious you were in trouble, your hair was drenched in sweat and it sounded like you were struggling for breath. Sitting down on the mattress he felt your forehead, and he pulled it back sharply when it was apparent you had a raging fever.
“Y/N?” he called to you, tapping your cheeks lightly to try and rouse you. When your eyes didn’t even flutter he jumped up and turned on the ceiling light to get a proper look at you. You looked dead, and his heart skipped a beat.
“Dean!” he called out, racing back to you on the bed. He felt for your pulse instinctively before remembering your meat suit wouldn’t have one, but did a double take when he felt a light flutter beneath his fingers. “Uhhh… Dean?!” he called again, more urgent this time.
“What, what is it?” he asked, running into the room with gun in hand. When he saw Sam sitting on your mattress hovering over you he quickly holstered it and went over.
“What’s happening to her?”
Sam didn’t answer as he lifted your shirt, finding the bandage still unwrapped from earlier. The wounds were clearly horribly infected, and still littered your stomach. They should have healed by now, and Dean gasped at the sight.
“How is that possible?” he asked confused.
Sam turned to look at him with panic. “She’s not a demon anymore Dean, she’s human. And she’s dying.”
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PRELUDE - PART 1 - PART 3
Series and “everything” tag lists are OPEN
“Everything” taglist: @angelsandwinchesters, @grace-for-sale, @growningupgeek, @iamnotsaneatall, @nanie5, @waywardasfudge, @ronja-uebrick, @im-dead-inside05, @julzdec, @adoptdontshoppets, @big-to-beautiful
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