Dean is ready, in case Castiel has any defenses for his dear old dad. But he doesn't, so, well, that's nice.
He does look so small like this, though, no stormclouds or wings or growling voice. Just a regular old human being, in regular old clothes. It makes Dean irrationally angry.
"Listen to me, Cas," Dean says, and he presses a finger into the man's chest. "You and your fucking brothers and your bum father and everyone downstairs fucked up every which way. You all picked me up and threw me around until I was good and tender, and I bet you're all getting a great kick out of watching me cook myself. So don't you fucking come to me about how hard it is that you have to shit and shower once in a while. And don't you dare start with this 'guilt' bullshit. Your chest aches? That's called dooming humanity. Get used to it."
He gapes, and half of him just wants to slug the man. "You want to do anything? Get your daddy on the phone and tell him to fix this shit his kid made. That's what dads do. They clean up after their kids."
And there it is, that part of him washing over. One fist curls up and plants itself squarely in Castiel's stomach. "And while we're at it, that's called pain. Get the fuck used to it."
no subject
He does look so small like this, though, no stormclouds or wings or growling voice. Just a regular old human being, in regular old clothes. It makes Dean irrationally angry.
"Listen to me, Cas," Dean says, and he presses a finger into the man's chest. "You and your fucking brothers and your bum father and everyone downstairs fucked up every which way. You all picked me up and threw me around until I was good and tender, and I bet you're all getting a great kick out of watching me cook myself. So don't you fucking come to me about how hard it is that you have to shit and shower once in a while. And don't you dare start with this 'guilt' bullshit. Your chest aches? That's called dooming humanity. Get used to it."
He gapes, and half of him just wants to slug the man. "You want to do anything? Get your daddy on the phone and tell him to fix this shit his kid made. That's what dads do. They clean up after their kids."
And there it is, that part of him washing over. One fist curls up and plants itself squarely in Castiel's stomach. "And while we're at it, that's called pain. Get the fuck used to it."