pinkandyellow: (Default)
[personal profile] pinkandyellow


When the Doctor left, she'd been shut down. Spent days, weeks, sobbing and immobile and useless, confined to her room. This was... different. Emptiness. She carried on, blankly, with no emotion behind her actions. For a week, she had no real, original thought. She woke up. Took a shower. Cleaned. Went to work. Ignored her coworkers. Went home. That's it. Talked to no one. Turned off her phone, turned off her T.V. She existed, the end. 

There was no funeral- there was no body, no record of his existence. Nobody even knew him. She hadn't been able to get a hold of Dean and Sam. Well, that was a lie. She hadn't bothered to try. Didn't even think about it. Never even occurred to her to tell them. She would, eventually. Besides them, only her family knew him, and she shut them out. Ignored the pounding on her door, ignored Pete's voice, and Jackie's voice.

At night, there was pain. She'd lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Trying not to think, but failing. At night, the world was empty, and she had no distraction from it all. And she remembered everything. The good memories, the bad ones, short but passionate, she remembered, and it hurt. Every single day for a week.

Except, today was Sunday. 

She woke up. He wouldn't want this. She couldn't... she couldn't give up like this. She couldn't tear down what he'd done like this. 

Today was Sunday.

Today, she needed to feel. 

Today, she went to the beach. 

Date: 2011-12-30 02:57 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Dying was easy. It was the parts that lead up to that were difficult. It was the getting yourself to the grave that was a challenge. It was scary and overwhelming. Actually dying and feeling your body just shut down was so very simple. He had felt his vessel shut down a number of times. It was easy. Then again it never changed the way it felt. Painful and sad. This time it was even worse because he was in love.

The past week was blank. Wherever he had been did not long for it's existence to be known. They wanted a secret. It was a week before he woke up in a back alley with just a shirt and some pants. He was sadly lacking shoes and anything else. It was chilly and it looked downright gloomy.

Cas got to his feet just trying to figure out what had happened. The last thing he remember was walking into that tear and feeling it rip him apart. Then it was like darkness. An overwhelming darkness that was hanging overhead.

The streets were cold and he was more than a little turned around. He had to make his way to Rose's house.

Date: 2011-12-30 03:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
For an hour, she stood there, waiting for a sign. Anything. In this grand scheme of angels and demons, of Gods and devils, there had to be something. She believed, more than she ever had before in her life. So why now? Why would God reveal himself to her now of all times, just to rip away the one person that brought her closer? Why would he take Castiel away? Was it punishment? She believed in God, but she believed he was loving, not vengeful. After everything Castiel'd done, he'd suffered enough. More than enough. Why rip him apart like that? Where was the justice? Where was her justice?

Where was her sign? Please. She just needed... she just needed something. She just needed to know that all of the pain wasn't for nothing. There had to be a point to it all. She couldn't... she couldn't be alone. Not like this. Not after everything. Not after how much of her heart she'd given away.

She stared at the ocean, the waves lapping onto the shore, stared at it pleadingly. Just a sign. Just anything Just anything.

Something wet streaked down her cheek. Wet and cold. Her eyes flicked to the sky. Had it been cloudy a moment ago? Didn't matter. It was, now. It began to rain.

Not just rain.

It began to pour.

She ran, stumbling through the sand, then pavement, feet smacking hard against it. Somewhere, there was lightning. Holy god, was it storming, and all feeling of safety was sucked out by the torrential downpour of icy rain and flashing lights. She stumbled up the stairs to her apartment, tugged the door open, and slammed it closed behind her, pressing her back against it.

Date: 2011-12-30 03:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
If it wasn't cold and miserable enough for the shoeless angel it was now raining. Well great. This was just horrible. He wasn't entirely sure how to navigate this place. He was a little out of it. His head was very cloudy and the more he walked the less vertical he felt. He wanted to sit, but there wasn't a forgiving spot anywhere. He had to keep going. He had to get to her place.

The next fifteen minutes were filled with odd stares and people calling him homeless. He probably did look a bit homeless. His clothes were socked and his feet were aching. Being human was incredibly difficult when you lacked things like shoes and a sense of direction.

He eventually found his way to the apartment complex. He made his way up to her place and stood in the hallway quietly. His arms wrapped around himself as he tried to warm up for a moment. He knocked after a pause and waited.

Date: 2011-12-30 03:14 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
She frowned, her back still pressed against the door. Her eyes squeezed shut. Mum? Her sign was mum? No offense, God, but that wasn't really a fair trade. Is that what she was supposed to do? Just... keep on living? What was a life where she couldn't love? That wasn't fair. She didn't understand.

She sighed, a soft, resigned sigh. Fine.

She turned, wrapped her hand around the door. Pulled it open. Her hair was limp, her clothes soaked as they dripped on the floor around her. It took a full second before her brain caught up with her eyes and comprehension sunk in. Comprehension, and disbelief.


Date: 2011-12-30 03:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
He spent the next couple of moments trying to warm his arms up. He felt stiff the more he stood out in the cold. All his muscles felt stiff the more he stood out there. He was anxious though. He wanted to see her. He wanted to know that she was alright after he had died. He wanted her to be okay. That was all he ever wanted really. He wanted her happy.

The door was yanked open and there she stood. She looked damp and severely unhappy. That did not make the former angel feel good at all. She was alive though and as far as he could tell she was healthy. She still looked beautiful though. She could frown all she wanted and she'd still blow his mind.

He took a step forward and filled the doorway. "Hello, Rose." He didn't know what he could say. He had no words for what was happening right now. He didn't even know what happened.

Date: 2011-12-30 03:27 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
God had a sense of humor.

He was soggy. Clothes were hanging off of him, his hair plastered down, his socks were muddy and he was stiff. Standing there, shivering, with his arms at his sides. She was dripping in the floor, eyes red-rimmed and questioning religion. This had all the unpleasantness of a sappy, romantic reunion in the rain and none of the perks. This was the furthest you could go from a happy, fluffy return.

More importantly than that, though, he was alive. He existed. He was alive.

She should say something. She didn't.

She moved forward automatically, lurching with all the strength of a week of sleeplessness and hardly any food. Her arms were around him before she could even blink.

God had a sense of humor.

Date: 2011-12-30 03:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
If you didn't believe the former angel was turning human before you'd believe now. He was freezing and shivering. His clothes were a wreck and he felt weak. This was like seeing Superman without the cape or Batman without his mask. It was just weird to see him this beaten down and odd looking. Not that he had been beaten down, but he felt tired.

There it was. A hug. He was getting used to the hugs. He was growing quite fond of them. His arms went around her and he held on tightly. He took a deep breath and moved further into the apartment with her. The door was kicked shut behind him. It was cold out there.

He pulled back and put his hands to her cheeks. He held onto her face and leaned in to kiss her. It had been a while since he could do that.

Date: 2011-12-30 03:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
It had been a week, but it felt like a year. A week of waking up with the knowledge that he was dead. A week of questioning everything she ever believed. A week of asking why. A week of feeling pain, or nothing. It was hard telling which was worse.

Calling it a hug was a generous term for what it actually was. Calling it a hug implied it was mutual. No, she wrapped her arms around him for entirely selfish reasons. Hugs were about mutual comfort, but when she moved against him, it was with only herself in mind. She was in pain. He pulled it away just by existing. Sucked it out by wrapping his arms around her. Replaced every inch of it with the most filling feeling, just because she could feel him breathing against her. All that emotion that had been lacking throughout the past week flooded back in, suddenly and unexpectedly, spreading through her and making her dizzy, pricking at her eyes and her heart and her everything.

And she kissed him. Oh, did she kiss him. She kissed him like her life depended on it. She kissed him like a person who loved him more than anyone else in the world, kissed him like the person who watched him die and never thought she'd see him again.

She kissed him like it was a second chance.

And it was.

Date: 2011-12-30 11:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
He couldn't remember his week of darkness. He figured he probably never would either. Whoever or whatever had brought him back was not going to step into the light anytime soon. There was a small part of him that thought maybe God had done it. Maybe God really did have a plan for him and dying in that tear just was not part of it. Maybe being human and having a life here was.

Selfish hug or not it did feel good to have her back with him. It was so simple what a touch or a hug from her could do. It was amazing when you really thought about it. It was times like these that he really appreciated the human race. They were quite amazing.

His arms slid around her waist to hold her tight. Stumbling and wibbly wobbly forward walking. She was soft and warm. That wasn't always a priority, but right now in the cold it was. The kiss deepened as his forward march was halted by a wall. A little ironic almost.

Date: 2011-12-31 03:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
She didn't mind the wall. As a matter of fact, ever since his arrival, she'd become quite fond of walls. Strange. Must be some relation, there. Her hands fisted in his shirt, digging into his shoulders as she held him tight. Was she crying? Maybe. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. She really needed to get a handle on it, it was making her look bad. Right now, she couldn't care less.

Considering her lifestyle, she was used to losing people. What she wasn't used to? Getting them back. And god, did he feel good. She could feel a heartbeat, and it was... beautiful.

All too quickly, she ran out of air, and pushed him back gently to breath. She panted slightly as she searched his face. Really him?

Really him.

Oh god. He went and... he went and... he just... he nearly...

She slapped him. She slapped him with the force of a slap so hard, it had a name.

Date: 2011-12-31 03:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh. Well. That really was incredibly painful. He side stepped and managed to even step away from her. It was mainly out of shock and intense pain. She really had a good slap. He had been hit more times than he could count, but this was the second time he was hit and it actually hurt a lot. She must have got that from her mother. The iron slap of Jackie Tyler handed down to Rose.

Castiel lifted a hand to touch his damp cheek. His head whipped around to look at her finally. "Ow." It wasn't stretched out or strained. It was fairly monotone, but that was Castiel for you. He was deeply confused as to why she was slapping, but he was chalking it up to another New Years incident.

"What did I do?" He assumed he had done something to illicit that slap from Hell. He certainly didn't think his showing up would get that kind of reaction. Maybe he was wrong.

Date: 2011-12-31 03:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"You--" She pointed at him, shifting from mad to terribly sad in the span of half a second. "You died! You just-- left-- you can't-- you're not allowed to just--"

Swan off, make her fall in love, declare that he was going to sacrifice himself, and die. She puffed out a breath, fixing him with a desperate look. She wasn't sure how experienced he was with loss, but it hurt. If she had to chose between going through it again and getting herself popped off, she'd probably pick option number two.

"Promise me you'll never do anything like that, ever again."

Date: 2011-12-31 03:50 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
In all fairness he would have stayed if he could. He would have stayed with her until they were grey haired and hobbling around. He didn't have a choice though. He looked at situations like that differently than some. He couldn't let her die or let her family die because of that tear. He couldn't let it happen knowing that he could have done something. That was exactly why he had told her back when he had his powers that he could take her to the Doctor. She had to know.

His hand still rubbed his cheek slowly. He eyed her from his spot. He didn't want to approach. He didn't want her to slap him again. That was extremely unpleasant the first time. As far as he knew she could still be very upset and pop him once more.

"Yes. I promise. I won't." It hurt too much the first time. It was terrifying standing in front of that tear and thinking he wouldn't be seeing her again ever. He didn't know if he could do it again.

Date: 2011-12-31 03:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
She'd been prepared to go into a whirlwind of... something if he said anything thing other than yes. The second he did, though, her relief was clearly evident, some of the pain shifting away in her features in time with one long exhale, and then she was back, throwing her arms around his neck and holding him tightly. She squeezed her eyes closed, pressed her face into his neck, and she felt... safe, again.

"I missed you." This last week had been... it had been hell. It felt like coming home.

That cold he'd been feeling? She was starting to feel it, too. His clothes were soaked through, and her hair was dripping. His skin was damp and cool. "You're freezing."

Date: 2011-12-31 04:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
She was coming at him again. He was prepared to take another slap if she was upset still. His face tightened and his lips drew together. Nothing. No slaps. Just hugs. He had grown fond of her hugs. His arms slid around her and he held on for dear life. There was a small part of him that was scared that if he let go that tear would rip open and he'd be yanked right back through.

"I missed you too." He did not remember anything from his week away, but he knew the aching inside of him had been from him missing her. It had been from him wanting to see her once more.

"It is quite cold out there--and raining as well." He said it as if she didn't know. Her clothes were quite damp. "I had to walk here." He drew back to look at her. "You look beautiful." It was true. Maybe he was getting swept up in that moment, but that was doubtful. This was just how he felt.

Date: 2011-12-31 04:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Her laugh was soft, surprised, incredulous. Really, Castiel? She'd had no sleep, hardly any food, her hair was limp and she looked... he was such a nutter. Such an amazing, wonderful, brilliant, alive nutter. "You're rather pretty, yourself."

Well, he was. The term 'sight for sore eyes' didn't seem entirely accurate enough to explain it. He was gorgeous, simply for having a heartbeat. If she didn't get him out of his wet clothes, though, he was going to die again, this time of pneumonia. She pulled away to take his hand, to lead him to the bedroom for clothes. A towel. And she needed to change, as well. By now, she was shivering. Had she been for long? She hadn't noticed. She paused for a second in the hallway, glancing back at him, brow furrowed. "How... did you... where...?"

Date: 2011-12-31 04:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh and there is that smile. The angel looked down and shook his head. He would probably never get used to her saying that about him. It was a term associated with women mostly so to have it used for him made the angel a little goofy and quite possibly nervous about it. Maybe not nervous. Red faced? Yeah. Red faced was a lot more accurate.

He allowed her to lead him towards the bedroom. They paused though and he perked up. "I don't know. I woke up behind a building on my own. I don't remember anything else from that week. The last thing I remembered was smiling at you." Then the pain. The intense pain.

Date: 2011-12-31 04:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
She didn't mean it in in a way that implied he wasn't masculine. She really didn't. Had he seen himself lately? Heard his own voice? Glanced in a mirror? He was perfectly male, she had the experience to back it up. It just... really, more than anything, was a term of endearment. Unique.

She furrowed her brow, though, at his explanation. That didn't make any sense. A universe-eating soul-sucking tear in reality, and he ends up without a scratch a week later in an alley? Then again... well, she'd asked for a sign, hadn't she?

She smiled at him, wryly. "Alright, then. Good enough for me."

The afterlife could keep their mystery, frankly, she didn't care as long as they brought him back. "Also, if you try to boss me about like that again, I will slap you."

Date: 2011-12-31 04:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
He would have to look into what had brought him back. He was just as curious as her if not more. If they brought him back for good intentions then that was great. If they had darker motives in mind when they brought him back then he was a little worried about it. He'd get to the bottom of it eventually, but right now he didn't want to leave her.

He frowned immediately at the threat of a slap. "I would really like to avoid being slapped again by you. So I will take that into consideration." Meaning he would not try to get bossy like that again. It really had hurt.

He moved up behind her and slid an arm around her waist. He kissed her neck and let out a content sigh. Another kiss there and another kiss here. He could be quite affectionate when brought back from the dead. What new information.

Date: 2011-12-31 04:52 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Some investigation would definitely have to be done. She was still hoping for the whole 'sign from God' thing, but it would be nice to have the surety that it wasn't something... other than that. She wasn't about to push her luck, though. He could snoop around all he wanted. Torchwood could butt out, as well. As a matter of fact, she probably wouldn't tell Torchwod he was alive. Just better that way, the nosy bastards.

"That's good. The slaps don't come often, mate." If you slapped too frequently, it stopped being a threat. People just... got used to it. Immune? Maybe. Either way, it tended to drive people away. The slaps were to be handed out with caution, like the One Ring or something. She was, however, amused by his angelspeak for 'don't hit me'.

If there was ever a time to be affectionate, this was it. She leaned back into him, tension rolling off her shoulders as she relaxed into the embrace. Her arms moved to cover his, to thread her fingers through his own, and her eyes drifted shut.

If this was a dream, and she woke up, she would be so pissed.

Date: 2011-12-31 05:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Not a dream. He hoped it wasn't a dream. He had a week wiped from his memory and he really hoped this wasn't the beginning of some weird torture where they gave him the one thing he wanted and then took it away. If they took her away from him again he was going to be very upset with them. She felt real though so he had a little faith that this was completely legitimate.

His arm stayed firmly wrapped around her from behind. His free hand slid down her thigh. His lips continued to move down her neck to her shoulder. Maybe he was just checking to make sure she was real? Either way he did not want to let her go or move away.

Date: 2011-12-31 05:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
She was real. She was positive she was real. Or, as positive as any person could really be about their own existence. And he seemed rather real, himself, thank God.

And she was so unbearably glad he didn't let go. She didn't want him to. She really didn't want him to. Whether it was kissing, or holding, or just... flopping down somewhere and existing, as long as he was there, she didn't care. This, though... this was a very, very good idea. She tilted her head to the side, let it fall back against his shoulder. An arm came up, curling to slide into his hair, brush along the back of his neck and hold tight.

Maybe it was a bit redundant to point out the fact that he was alive, but... he was alive. She might break down, or explode, or laugh, or cry, or... or something. Damn, she loved him.

Date: 2011-12-31 05:53 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Don't break down and cry. Castiel knew about happy tears, but he didn't always know when they were happening or when something warranted happy tears. He'd get the hang of that, but until then do not break down because he will not have a clue what to do.

Her hand in his hair was very nice. Gone was the aching and cold. It was replaced by a rush of warmth provided by her body pressed against his.

What a great welcome home present. Unwrapped and enjoyed--multiple times.


pinkandyellow: (Default)
Rose Tyler

November 2015

15 161718192021

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 26th, 2017 02:38 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios