The Parts Of Our Sum

[fangirlishness]

An absolutely awesome fic which you should totally read, even if you don't watch Supernatural.

It is completely AU and it has characters with synthetic body parts and such great world building. Also: very very sweet unreliable-narrator!Cas, great characterization, and slow-build romance and hot sex. Honestly, this fic has got *everything*. I did not mind spending two weeks betaing its 50k words.

READ EEEEET!

Title: The Parts Of Our Sum by scaramouche (Annie D) (or read it on DW)
Fandom: Supernatural
Wordcount: 55,000
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Destiel
Author's summary: Castiel, a former soldier, has worked for the Company his entire life. They've been good to him, providing clothes, shelter and new body parts whenever necessary. Now the Company's gearing up for a space exploration voyage, and Castiel's volunteered for the research team. During the preparation period, he meets Dean Winchester, who makes Castiel wonder about the things he's missed out on.
My opinion: Oh so so good. What else is there to say? Cas is wonderful, slightly separate from everyone else, with a very analytical but sometimes blind eye at things and people around him. His POV is awesome. The plot meanders unpredictably, which is also great.
Quote:

“Now you stop that right there,” Dean says, pointing a warning finger at him. “Hell, just look at you!”

Castiel looks down at himself. He’s holding himself at parade rest, arms relaxed at his sides and synthetic hands visible where Dean can see them. He’s not a short man but Dean’s one of the few people he actually is shorter than, and the fatigues that make up his daily wardrobe are deliberately a size larger so as to be loose along his frame and make himself appear as non-threatening as possible.

“I don’t understand,” Castiel confesses.

“That’s great ‘cause neither do I,” Dean almost laughs. He’s perturbed by what he sees, and although this isn’t something new for Castiel either, the flavor with which it has manifested is – odd. Dean doesn’t seem unhappy with the quality of Castiel’s work, or offended by something Castiel has done; rather, he is thrown by something Castiel has not done.

Yet there’s something quietly thrilling about being seen, for surely that’s what’s happening here –Dean has noticed Castiel, a cog in the machine that groans differently from its brothers and sisters. There’s a strange sort of compliment wrapped up inside all of this, similar but not the same as Hester’s jibes that Castiel’s choices are odd ones.

“This work is simple,” Castiel hears himself say. “Straightforward, and free of cloak and dagger. I like that.”

“You… like that?” Dean echoes.

“The fighting’s over.” Castiel shrugs. “I have a choice now.”

Dean tilts his head a little, as though Castiel would be more comprehensible at a ten degree angle. Eventually he offers a non-committal, “Huh,” which is as unhelpful as the way he abruptly turns and leaves.

And people call Castiel odd.