Part One is here.
Dean slept peacefully that night enfolded in his lover's wings, but woke up alone. The sun's first light revealed a trace of his lover in the form of a single feather, black at first glance but shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow when held in the light.
This half-and-half companionship could not fully content Dean; still he was happy and the time passed swiftly. One night, however, his dear though unseen husband spoke gravely to him and warned him that danger in the shape of his brother was approaching. "Sam is coming to the hill where you disappeared, to weep for you," he said, "but you must not let him see you or you will bring great sorrow upon me and ruin to yourself."
Dean promised he would not, but all the next day he passed in weeping, thinking of his brother and himself unable to comfort him. He was still in tears when his husband came and even his caresses could not check them. At last he yielded sorrowfully to Dean's great desire.
"Do what you will," he said, "but you are seeking your own destruction." Then he warned Dean solemnly not to be persuaded by Sam to try to see him, on pain of being separated from him forever.
Dean cried out that he would never do so. He would die a hundred times over rather than live without him. "But give me this joy," he said: "to see my brother." Sadly Dean's husband promised him that it should be so.
The next morning Sam came, brought down from the mountain by Zephyr. Happy and excited, Dean was waiting for him. It was long before the two brothers could speak to each other; their joy was too great to be expressed except by tears and embraces. But when at last they entered the palace and Sam saw its surpassing treasures, when he sat at the rich banquet and heard the marvelous music, bitter envy took possession of him and a devouring curiosity as to who was the lord of all this magnificence and his brother's husband.
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| "Texts From the Impala" Meme. http://thatwritererinoriordan.tumblr.com/post/102088409445 |
But Dean kept faith; he told Sam only that his husband was a young man, away now on a hunting expedition. "How is Jessica?" Dean asked, changing the subject.
"Jess is fine. She's huge - I mean, she's very pregnant. We're going to have a little prince or princess."
Dean gave Sam another hug. "Congratulations, bro."
"Thanks. So, no babies for you, huh?"
"We don't need babies to be happy."
Sam seemed to notice something. "What's this thing around your neck?"
Dean smiled. "My leather collar. Do you like it?"
"He put a collar on you - like you're his slave, or his dog?"
"No, he gave me this collar as a gift because he loves me. It's pretty, it smells good, and sometimes - at just the right moment - he slips two fingers inside it and it tightens up just enough..."
"That's sick, Dean."
"No! It's nice. It's like when he pulls my hair. Don't you ever pull Jessica's hair?"
"Dude, no. She's a queen; she would have me beheaded. Dean, he treats you horribly, but you're so innocent you think that's love."
"You're wrong, Sam. Not everybody has to love the same way. Jessica is a tiny person compared to you, so you're sweet and gentle with her. My husband can be very sweet and gentle, and other times, he shoves me against the wall - and I like that. I know he loves me."
Then filling Sam's hands with gold and jewels, he had Zephyr bear him back to the hill. "See you later, jerk."
Sam went willingly enough, but his heart was on fire with jealousy. "Not if I see you first, bitch." All his own wealth and good fortune seemed as nothing compared with Dean's, and his envious anger so worked in him that he came finally to plotting how to ruin him.
That very night Dean's husband warned him once more. Dean would not listen when he begged him not to let Sam come again. "You can never see me," he reminded Dean. Was Dean also to be forbidden to see all others, even his brother so dear to him?
He yielded as before, and very soon Sam arrived, with his plot carefully worked out. Already, because of Dean's stumbling and contradictory answer when Sam asked him what his husband looked like, he had become convinced that Dean had never set eyes on him and did not really know what he was. Sam did not tell Dean this, but he reproached his older brother for hiding his terrible state from him, his own brother. Sam had learned, he said, and knew for a fact, that Dean's husband was not a man, but the fearful serpent demon Apollo's oracle had declared he would be. He was kind now, no doubt, but he would certainly turn upon him some night and devour him.
Dean, aghast, felt terror flooding his heart instead of love. He had wondered so often why his husband would never let him see him. There must be some dreadful reason. What did he really know about him? If he was not horrible to look at, then he was cruel to forbid him ever to behold him. In extreme misery, faltering and stammering he gave his brother to understand that he could not deny what he said, because he had been with him only in the dark. "There must be something very wrong," he sobbed, "for him so to shun the light of day." And he begged Sam to advise him.
Sam had his advice all prepared beforehand: That night Dean must hide a sharp knife and a lamp near his bed. When his husband was fast asleep he must leave the bed, light the lamp, and get the knife. He must steel himself to plunge it swiftly into the body of the frightful being the light would certainly show him. "I will be near," Sam said, "and carry you away with me when he is dead."
Then Sam left Dean torn by doubt and distracted what to do. Dean loved him; he was his dear husband. No; he was a horrible serpent demon and he loathed him. He would kill him — he would not. He must have certainty — he did not want certainty. So all day long his thoughts fought with each other. When evening came, however, he had given the struggle up. One thing he was determined to do: He would see him.
When at last he lay sleeping quietly, Dean summoned all his courage and lit the lamp. He tiptoed to the bed and holding the light high above him he gazed at what lay there.
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| http://thatwritererinoriordan.tumblr.com/post/105337717180/feistypadalecki-castiel-sleeping#notes |
Oh, the relief and the rapture that filled his heart. No monster was revealed, but the sweetest and fairest of all creatures, at whose sight the very lamp seemed to shine brighter. In his first shame at his folly and lack of faith, Dean fell on his knees and would have plunged the knife into his own breast if it had not fallen from his trembling hands.
But those same unsteady hands that saved him betrayed him, too, for as he hung over him, ravished at the sight of him and unable to deny himself the bliss of filling his eyes with his beauty, some hot oil fell from the lamp upon his shoulder. He started awake: he saw the light and knew Dean's faithlessness, and without a word he fled from him.
Dean rushed out after him into the night. He could not see him, but he heard his voice speaking to him. He told Dean who he was, and sadly bade him farewell. "Love cannot live where there is no trust," he said, and flew away.
'The God of Love!" he thought. "He was my husband, and I, assbutt that I am, could not keep faith with him. Is he gone from me forever? At any rate," he told himself with rising courage, "I can spend the rest of my life searching for him. If he has no more love left for me, at least I can show him how much I love him." And he started on his journey. He had no idea where to go; he knew only that he would never give up looking for him.
(Happily-ever-after ending to come in Part 3.)
In Other Fan Fiction News: Squee!
Rainbow Rowell is writing
Carry On, a book about Simon Snow (and, I should really hope, Baz too). Its projected release date is in October 2015, and it will contain Simon Snow fan art by actual fangirls. It's super meta, and I'm so excited. Is this going to be the first mainstream bestseller based on
same sex romantic fan fiction?
