Did I buy ten copies of this because I was afraid of ruining/losing/misplacing a copy? Yes, yes I did. Am I willing to part with two of them at #spnchi ? I am! Let me know if you are looking for a copy.
Sharing for all the folks who’re at the con this weekend! If you’ve wanted to get your hands on one of the sold-out hard copies, get in touch with @missusog!
Dean will always remember hell. He carries with him the memories of what he did there, what was done to him, like a penance. Like just remembering will in some way make up for his sins.
What he doesn’t remember is being saved. If he strains his imagination, he thinks he might recall a blinding light and a touch that burned through him like fire, purifying him.
He brings it up with Cas, once, and Cas shakes his head.
“I didn’t touch you,” he says. “Neither one of us was occupying a physical form at the time.”
“But you left a mark on me,” Dean reminds him.
Cas reaches out, laying his hand on Dean’s shoulder, warm through the thin cotton layer of Dean’s shirt. “I left that when I put your body back together. But I still didn’t have a physical form.”
“When was the first time you touched me?” Dean asks. The question feels stupid as soon as he’s said it out loud but Cas furrows his brow, contemplating it.
“When I brought you back to the past to witness your mother’s deal.” He moves his hand from Dean’s shoulder, touching two fingers to his forehead. Dean bats them away and Cas smiles. “Not the most romantic beginning, I’ll admit.”
“Hey, you gotta start somewhere.” Dean takes Cas’ hand in his own, marvels at the easiness of it. How he’s allowed to finally have this. “Are you sure that was the first time? I feel like it happened sooner.”
“I have an infallible memory,” Cas reminds him dryly.
“Tell me that the next time you get lost on your way to the gas station.”
“I was taking a different-” Cas cuts himself off, pursing his lips together. “You’re teasing me.”
Dean grins. “Maybe.”
And he leans in, kissing the frown away from Cas’ lips before it can properly form.
