Fic: End of Small Sanctuary
Author: Seraphim Grace
Fandom = Supernatural
Pairing = Castiel/Girl!Dean
Rating = Gen
Notes - Title from Silent Hill 3 score by Akira Yamaoka
unbeated
Soundtrack - A Perfect Circle - Pet
"Half angel and half bird. And all a wonder and a wild desire."
Robert Browning- O lyric love
Castiel's eyes are brilliantine, weighty and cold. Dean is amazed that they can express so much whilst saying nothing at all. They are like the glass eyes of dolls and yet when Castiel looks at her Dean feels cherished. She hates that.
She's not worthy. She's just Dean, a scrapper, her dad's leather coat and walmart jeans, ugly sports bras and no idea how to put on makeup.
She can take out a vampire or a werewolf or monsters no one has ever heard of but for a select few hunters but no one took the time to show her how to use a tampon or measure her for a bra. She's more boy than girl, brought up by necessity to hunt, to protect, to deal.
Yet when Castiel looks at her she resents her sloggi panties and sports bra, she wants to wear the pretty lace things she sees in shops. She wants to wear skirts and pantyhose, though she never really has, and maybe heels. She wants to be beautiful for him.
She wants long hair like a movie star and sleek curves, her own long gone to athleticism and fighting. Breasts strapped down, stomach flat, hips sleek and thighs scarred. She wears her hair short because it's easier. Maybe Ellen could, or Jo, show him, but then would come the girly chick flick moments. She has an image of herself stood there as Ellen gushes "I knew this would happen" but Dean doesn't deserve Cas, he's gorgeous and so kind and ultimate and Dean's just an old hunter with too many scars and too short hair.
Yet he looks at her. He looks at her as if he thinks she's something precious, and his touches, never sexual, never possessive, are tender, whether it's the linger of finger tips as he passes her a knife, a hand on her shoulder reminding her he's got her back.
Dean's always been the protector, and Castiel, not Sam, never Sam, wants to protect her, not because she's a girl, not because she's weak, but because two swords are better than one.
So as he stands in the middle of the aisle in the high end department store, where light flowery shift dresses flutter in the air conditioning and the assistant looks at her like she's something stuck to her shoe, like she doesn't have over a grand burning a hole in the back pocket of her cheap jeans, and she wants to spend it, she wants to look good for Castiel.
Dean bucks up her courage, wrapping pride around herself like armour. "Hey," she says looking at the girl, "you can help me, I've got a wedding to go to, and he's an ex, yanno," the girl smiles, "I wanna be fabulous, think of me like your own barbie, dress me."
"What do you need?" the girl asks, thinking now of the commission and the bonus to her paypacket, Dean might even leave a tip.
"Everything." Dean answers with a smile.
When she leaves the store Dean feels pretty for the first time in possibly her entire life, better certainly than when Dad took her to get her first bra.
She has a dress in a paper carrier bag, and has changed her dad's leather coat for a fitted leather one that smells wonderful. She's wearing makeup and perfume and she knows now she feels brave enough to use the charmed earrings that Bobby gave her for her twenty first, and the amulet Sam gave her just makes her look quirky. She's wearing pretty underwear, and white pantyhose, which feel strangely chill against her legs, and bright green leather mary janes.
She feels beautiful.
Sam's waiting by the impala and when he sees her, he scoffs "looks like I finally got a sister," before getting into the car. She slides in behind the driving seat and uses an old napkin to wipe the lipstick off - it's not like Castiel would appreciate it anyway - right.