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cashayTitle: Not Fine
Fandom: Supernatural
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cashay
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Adam/Castiel
Spoilers: for the end of season 5
Word Count: ~573
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: "I'm fine." "You are not 'fine.'" (Original Prompt: here)
"Adam?"
Adam's head jerked up and it took him a moment to focus on Castiel. In this brief moment Castiel caught a short glimps of horror and pain before it was hidden again behind the haunted and guarded look that was on Adam's face nearly all the time since he had returned.
“What?” Adam snapped at him. He buried his face in his shaking hands. “Never mind.” the young human added, scratching his face forcefully.
Castiel was worried. It was hard to worry him, especially after his time with the Winchesters who were the masters in doing things you should worry about. But Adam – even though he was a Winchester – was a whole other case.
He hadn't been raised as a hunter. He had never learned to live with loss, responsibility to big for anyone and with pain. But he had been sucked in nonetheless and had been in the Cage even longer than Sam. Castiel was surprised he was even able to breath and walk and talk.
He remembered. Castiel was sure there wasn't a second of his time in hell with the two angry archangels that he didn't remember. It was evident in the way he was shaking all the time, his heartbeat never slowing down, neither did his breathing. Castiel saw it in his eyes and heard it in the way he spoke – if he spoke at all what was seldom enough. But most of all he heard it in the screams that accompanied every night and the silence that filled the day.
Castiel had looked intensely at Adam the whole time and had apparently startled the younger man. The anger and fear Adam had every right to feel made him lash out at everything, a habit Castiel had gotten used to while looking over the young human.
“Stop looking at me like that!” Adam snapped at him, fists balled at his side and it wouldn't be the first time his outbreak became violent. “I'm fine.”
Even though his voice had gone softer at the last words they were as far from the truth as one could get. “You are not 'fine'.” Castiel denied with a slow shake of his head, intense gaze fixated on Adam.
Suddenly Castiel found himself pushed a step back, fists pounding against his chest in a useless gesture intended to hurt him, to make him stop and go away.
“I am fine! I am FINE!” Adam said over and over again, his voice getting louder every time, fists still hitting Castiel's chest. The angel just stood still, allowing Adam to take his pain and frustration, his fear and all the nightmares that haunted the human out on him.
Only when the blows slowed down and Adam started to sob he brought up his arms and pulled Adam in a tight embrace. His wings unfolded themselves and enclosed them even more as Castiel tried to give his human a sense of security.
He pressed light kisses to the top of Adam's head and to his face which was wet with tears. Adam was strong, he was stronger than most angels were. Castiel was certain he was stronger than he himself was. The young human might not believe it but Castiel was sure after everything he had gone through Adam would make it. Adam was a survivor and he was strong.
“You will be Adam. I'm here. I'll take care of you and you will be fine.”
Title: Burned Wings
Fandom: Supernatural
Author:cashay
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Gabriel/Sam
Spoilers: until 5.19
Word Count: ~268
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: Gabriel hates it when Sam touches his wings for they are broken. (Original prompt: here)
He hates it when Sam touches his wings. They are burned and ugly, nothing left of the glory they once possessed even though he is alive again and an archangel still. But no matter how often he tried – and he had tried it over and over again – he couldn't heal his wings.
He hates it when Sam touches his wings because he wants to be perfect. For the first time in his long life he wants someone to find him perfect. But how can he be perfect if his wings are burned? They are useless, he can't even return to heaven anymore even if he wanted. His ruined wings aren't able to carry him home.
He hates it when Sam touches his wings because he touches them like they are something holy and beautiful. Not the broken, torn things they really are. He murmurs soft praise and strokes through the dead feather and over the bald spots as if they are the prettiest things.
He hates it when Sam touches his wings because he loves it. He loves the way Sam makes him feel when he strokes over those dead things. He loves the way he praises them and Gabriel, talks to him in this soothing, soft voice. He loves that Sam still loves him.
Ultimately he might not hate it when Sam touches his wings. Maybe he isn't even that angry at his father anymore for trapping him on earth with broken wings, without his family. Maybe he is just imagining the way his wings tingle and feel alive every time Sam touches them. Maybe he isn't.
Title: The bottle or me
Fandom: Leverage
Author:cashay
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Eliot/Nate
Spoilers: none really
Warnings: alcohol abuse!
Word Count: ~241
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: "It's me or the bottle, Nate." (Original Prompt: here)
Nate was drunk. Again. Eliot had started to loose count of how often he had found his lover drunk or passed out somewhere in his apartment. It was becoming too much.
He was no one to deny a drink to drown you sorrows in but Nate was overdoing things. He did nothing but drowning in the alcohol. Every time something went wrong - and with them something went wrong nearly every job – he grabbed a bottle, drinking himself near coma when he was at his worst.
Nate was at his worst more and more often.
Eliot knew he wasn't easy to deal with either and carried his own baggage but he tried to help. Every time he tried to help Nate. But Nate never wanted his help. Instead he ignored him, drinking. And Eliot couldn't stand it anymore.
This day had been particularly bad and Nate was starting to get drunk again. Eliot wouldn't watch this anymore. He couldn't watch this anymore. His voice was firm and hold a certainty he most definitely didn't feel. “It's me or the bottle, Nate.”
He didn't wait for an answer just turned around and left. This decision Nate had to make alone.
It was more then half a year later - Eliot had already given up hope and resigned himself to another broken heart - that one evening a man who he had believed dead by now stood in front of him in a greasy bar.
“You.”
Title: Egypt
Fandom: Leverage
Author:cashay
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Eliot/Hardison
Spoilers: none
Word Count: ~137
Disclaimer: I own noting!
Summary: Eliot goes on a mysterious "vacation," alone … and Egypt overthrows Mubarek; Hardison suspects a connection. (Original prompt here)
Notes: My deepest respect for the people who fought and are fighting for their freedoms and their rights. Let's hope Libya, Yemen and Bahrain can achieve what Tunesia and Egypt have achieved.
“Eliot!”
Hardison practically ran his lover over as he entered their apartment, glaring at him. He actually had planned on making his return good, with sex and all but after recent events there was nothing further from his mind.
“Hardison.”
He glared at the smug retrieval specialist who had not told him where he was going. And now this!
“What did you do in Egypt?”
Eliot actually looked puzzled at this question but Hardison wouldn't let himself be fooled. Eliot was a good actor too.
“Yeah don't give me that. You go on a mysterious “vacation” and now the Egypts have overthrown Mubarak. And a few days later you're back?” He practically bounced where he stood certain that Eliot was somehow involved in all of this.
“Not telling you Hardison.”
“So you were involved!”
“Maybe...”
Title: Breaking Point
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Author:cashay
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Daniel
Spoilers: none
Warnings: breakdown
Word Count: ~259
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: Jack doesn't think he has a breaking point anymore until he hits it. (Original Prompt here)
Jack had been sure he had no breaking point anymore. He had been through hell over and over. He had been at the point he was sure he would break over and over again. But he didn't. He never did break. Until now.
He could feel himself falling apart. He had made it until they were back home in the SGC and he had gotten to the first private room he could find before it happened. He felt like he couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't go on.
Even though he had been at this point so many times throughout the years this time it was different. This time he really couldn't. It was already hard to breath. Breathing was actually all he could do as his mind replayed the horrible pictures over and over and over again.
It didn't stop. Never stopped, no matter if his eyes were open or closed. He didn't notice the tears on his face or his shallow, fast breathing. Neither did he register the fact that he was shaking. All he could do was hold on.
But he felt his grip getting weaker. He couldn't. He just couldn't. It was all too much.
Strong arms slid around him and he felt a body settle behind him, pulling him back, pulling him close. “It's me Jack.” It took Jack a moment to remember who this voice belonged to but then he just relaxed. Daniel. “We'll get through this Jack. We will. I promise.”
And Jack, who could hardly keep breathing, believed him.
Fandom: Supernatural
Author:
cashay Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Adam/Castiel
Spoilers: for the end of season 5
Word Count: ~573
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: "I'm fine." "You are not 'fine.'" (Original Prompt: here)
"Adam?"
Adam's head jerked up and it took him a moment to focus on Castiel. In this brief moment Castiel caught a short glimps of horror and pain before it was hidden again behind the haunted and guarded look that was on Adam's face nearly all the time since he had returned.
“What?” Adam snapped at him. He buried his face in his shaking hands. “Never mind.” the young human added, scratching his face forcefully.
Castiel was worried. It was hard to worry him, especially after his time with the Winchesters who were the masters in doing things you should worry about. But Adam – even though he was a Winchester – was a whole other case.
He hadn't been raised as a hunter. He had never learned to live with loss, responsibility to big for anyone and with pain. But he had been sucked in nonetheless and had been in the Cage even longer than Sam. Castiel was surprised he was even able to breath and walk and talk.
He remembered. Castiel was sure there wasn't a second of his time in hell with the two angry archangels that he didn't remember. It was evident in the way he was shaking all the time, his heartbeat never slowing down, neither did his breathing. Castiel saw it in his eyes and heard it in the way he spoke – if he spoke at all what was seldom enough. But most of all he heard it in the screams that accompanied every night and the silence that filled the day.
Castiel had looked intensely at Adam the whole time and had apparently startled the younger man. The anger and fear Adam had every right to feel made him lash out at everything, a habit Castiel had gotten used to while looking over the young human.
“Stop looking at me like that!” Adam snapped at him, fists balled at his side and it wouldn't be the first time his outbreak became violent. “I'm fine.”
Even though his voice had gone softer at the last words they were as far from the truth as one could get. “You are not 'fine'.” Castiel denied with a slow shake of his head, intense gaze fixated on Adam.
Suddenly Castiel found himself pushed a step back, fists pounding against his chest in a useless gesture intended to hurt him, to make him stop and go away.
“I am fine! I am FINE!” Adam said over and over again, his voice getting louder every time, fists still hitting Castiel's chest. The angel just stood still, allowing Adam to take his pain and frustration, his fear and all the nightmares that haunted the human out on him.
Only when the blows slowed down and Adam started to sob he brought up his arms and pulled Adam in a tight embrace. His wings unfolded themselves and enclosed them even more as Castiel tried to give his human a sense of security.
He pressed light kisses to the top of Adam's head and to his face which was wet with tears. Adam was strong, he was stronger than most angels were. Castiel was certain he was stronger than he himself was. The young human might not believe it but Castiel was sure after everything he had gone through Adam would make it. Adam was a survivor and he was strong.
“You will be Adam. I'm here. I'll take care of you and you will be fine.”
Title: Burned Wings
Fandom: Supernatural
Author:
cashay Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Gabriel/Sam
Spoilers: until 5.19
Word Count: ~268
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: Gabriel hates it when Sam touches his wings for they are broken. (Original prompt: here)
He hates it when Sam touches his wings. They are burned and ugly, nothing left of the glory they once possessed even though he is alive again and an archangel still. But no matter how often he tried – and he had tried it over and over again – he couldn't heal his wings.
He hates it when Sam touches his wings because he wants to be perfect. For the first time in his long life he wants someone to find him perfect. But how can he be perfect if his wings are burned? They are useless, he can't even return to heaven anymore even if he wanted. His ruined wings aren't able to carry him home.
He hates it when Sam touches his wings because he touches them like they are something holy and beautiful. Not the broken, torn things they really are. He murmurs soft praise and strokes through the dead feather and over the bald spots as if they are the prettiest things.
He hates it when Sam touches his wings because he loves it. He loves the way Sam makes him feel when he strokes over those dead things. He loves the way he praises them and Gabriel, talks to him in this soothing, soft voice. He loves that Sam still loves him.
Ultimately he might not hate it when Sam touches his wings. Maybe he isn't even that angry at his father anymore for trapping him on earth with broken wings, without his family. Maybe he is just imagining the way his wings tingle and feel alive every time Sam touches them. Maybe he isn't.
Title: The bottle or me
Fandom: Leverage
Author:
cashay Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Eliot/Nate
Spoilers: none really
Warnings: alcohol abuse!
Word Count: ~241
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: "It's me or the bottle, Nate." (Original Prompt: here)
Nate was drunk. Again. Eliot had started to loose count of how often he had found his lover drunk or passed out somewhere in his apartment. It was becoming too much.
He was no one to deny a drink to drown you sorrows in but Nate was overdoing things. He did nothing but drowning in the alcohol. Every time something went wrong - and with them something went wrong nearly every job – he grabbed a bottle, drinking himself near coma when he was at his worst.
Nate was at his worst more and more often.
Eliot knew he wasn't easy to deal with either and carried his own baggage but he tried to help. Every time he tried to help Nate. But Nate never wanted his help. Instead he ignored him, drinking. And Eliot couldn't stand it anymore.
This day had been particularly bad and Nate was starting to get drunk again. Eliot wouldn't watch this anymore. He couldn't watch this anymore. His voice was firm and hold a certainty he most definitely didn't feel. “It's me or the bottle, Nate.”
He didn't wait for an answer just turned around and left. This decision Nate had to make alone.
It was more then half a year later - Eliot had already given up hope and resigned himself to another broken heart - that one evening a man who he had believed dead by now stood in front of him in a greasy bar.
“You.”
Title: Egypt
Fandom: Leverage
Author:
cashay Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Eliot/Hardison
Spoilers: none
Word Count: ~137
Disclaimer: I own noting!
Summary: Eliot goes on a mysterious "vacation," alone … and Egypt overthrows Mubarek; Hardison suspects a connection. (Original prompt here)
Notes: My deepest respect for the people who fought and are fighting for their freedoms and their rights. Let's hope Libya, Yemen and Bahrain can achieve what Tunesia and Egypt have achieved.
“Eliot!”
Hardison practically ran his lover over as he entered their apartment, glaring at him. He actually had planned on making his return good, with sex and all but after recent events there was nothing further from his mind.
“Hardison.”
He glared at the smug retrieval specialist who had not told him where he was going. And now this!
“What did you do in Egypt?”
Eliot actually looked puzzled at this question but Hardison wouldn't let himself be fooled. Eliot was a good actor too.
“Yeah don't give me that. You go on a mysterious “vacation” and now the Egypts have overthrown Mubarak. And a few days later you're back?” He practically bounced where he stood certain that Eliot was somehow involved in all of this.
“Not telling you Hardison.”
“So you were involved!”
“Maybe...”
Title: Breaking Point
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Author:
cashay Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Daniel
Spoilers: none
Warnings: breakdown
Word Count: ~259
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: Jack doesn't think he has a breaking point anymore until he hits it. (Original Prompt here)
Jack had been sure he had no breaking point anymore. He had been through hell over and over. He had been at the point he was sure he would break over and over again. But he didn't. He never did break. Until now.
He could feel himself falling apart. He had made it until they were back home in the SGC and he had gotten to the first private room he could find before it happened. He felt like he couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't go on.
Even though he had been at this point so many times throughout the years this time it was different. This time he really couldn't. It was already hard to breath. Breathing was actually all he could do as his mind replayed the horrible pictures over and over and over again.
It didn't stop. Never stopped, no matter if his eyes were open or closed. He didn't notice the tears on his face or his shallow, fast breathing. Neither did he register the fact that he was shaking. All he could do was hold on.
But he felt his grip getting weaker. He couldn't. He just couldn't. It was all too much.
Strong arms slid around him and he felt a body settle behind him, pulling him back, pulling him close. “It's me Jack.” It took Jack a moment to remember who this voice belonged to but then he just relaxed. Daniel. “We'll get through this Jack. We will. I promise.”
And Jack, who could hardly keep breathing, believed him.
