whit merule

Previous chapter.

Dean kept looking at him, in the day and weeks that followed, as if he believed that he still knew Castiel. As if he couldn’t see the wings - no, as if he could see them and thought of them as no more than an interesting skill. As if an angel and a human could really be friends and brothers and it was as simple as that, until sometimes Castiel wanted to shake him and say, Dean, don’t you remember, I am a monster. Because Dean was too forgiving, and Dean was a better man than Castiel.

Because Castiel’s honour had become a flexible thing. 

( Read more... )