D/C BB: An Angel in Wonderland - Chapter Ten

[anoradh]

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten - Wonders Never Cease

The building was dark and dusty; it smelled of old books and neglect. It had once been a bookshop, specializing in children's fiction, but big chain stores and an already waning clientele had driven it out of business. Now all that remained was the old sign hanging over the door, rows of bookcases falling apart and a number of forgotten tomes. Dean knew that Sam, following close behind him, was mourning its death. He was probably composing a fucking eulogy, as they silently made their way further inside. Dean did not care, as long as it was the only eulogy that he would have cause to write that night.

The thought made his stomach clench and his throat contract with fear. What if they were too late? They had got the message the previous morning and Dean had driven like a maniac to get here, only letting Sam take the wheel when his brother had pointed out that they would be of no use to anyone, wrapped around a tree. Even then it had been impossible to sleep; scenario upon scenario playing out behind his eyes, each one worse than the last. The words of the message kept echoing inside his skull:

Castiel needs help. And this address. No explanation. No sender.



It was most likely a trap. Both Dean and Sam had agreed on that, just as they had agreed that they were going anyway. Especially after Sam had run a trace on Castiel's mobile, which placed it at this location. If Castiel was in trouble, there was no way that they were just going to abandon him. Not after everything that the angel had done for them.

Of course, it was not just gratitude that had fear freezing the blood in Dean's veins, until his heart was pure ice. Gratitude could not explain the way the beam of the flashlight shook or how his breathing carved through the silence like a blunt knife. What Dean felt for Castiel had never been as simple or as mundane as mere gratitude.

"Dean." Sam's whisper behind him tore Dean's mind back from the realm of anxiety that it had entered and called his attention to the door that stood ajar behind the last row of bookcases. A warm, flickering light seemed to call them forward. To light a fire in a bookshop should seem destructive at best, but Dean thought he knew what kind of fire this was and that it was as dangerous to them as an electric fireplace. Daring to hope that this meant that whoever had brought them there was keeping Castiel alive, he crept closer to the door and peered inside.

As Dean had expected, Castiel was there, surrounded by a ring of fire. More troubling was the fact that he seemed to be unconscious. He was lying curled up on his side, his face smooth and expressionless. In the light of the flames that danced around him, he looked as if he was glowing. Golden highlights made a halo of his dark hair and his lips were softly parted. With his eyes closed to hide that ageless gaze, he looked impossibly young and innocent. He had never looked more angelic and Dean would have marveled at his unexpected beauty, if not for the sudden certainty that almost brought him to his knees. Castiel was too powerful to render unconscious - he must be dead.

Fortunately, Sam was there to take action while his brother was paralyzed with fear. He moved forward quickly, his long legs carrying him to Castiel's side in just a few long strides. His head moved from side to side, obviously wary of any danger that hid in the dark corners of the room. None became apparent, even as he stood outside the flaming circle and turned his attention to the angel within.

"Dean," he said. "We need to put out the fire." His voice was enough to snap Dean out of his stupor and he looked around for anything that could help. All the furniture of the room seemed to have been moved to the back wall and covered with what looked like heavy drapes. Dean called Sam's attention to those drapes and they each grabbed one to beat at the flames. It did not take them long until the fire had been reduced to a charred, smoldering circle in the wooden floor.

Sam knelt beside Castiel, while Dean watched, dreading the confirmation of his fears. He saw Sam reach out and grab Castiel's shoulder, trying to shake him awake. To Dean's unutterable relief, it worked. Castiel stirred, mumbling something that sounded like "Gabriel" and something that sounded like "wonder". His eyes blinked open and for a moment, they remained distant, as if still focusing on some faraway scene. Then they were filled with the realization of their surroundings and Castiel sat up suddenly, his body preparing to fight.

Dean was not even aware that he had knelt down beside Sam, before he found his hands clutching a trench-coat clad arm bracingly. "Whoa, easy there," he said. "Relax, Cas! It's just us."

Cas' eyes fixed on Dean, as intense as ever, but some of the tension seemed to drain from his body. "What happened?" he asked, his voice even rougher than usual. "Where am I?"

"You're okay," Dean said, instead of replying to his questions. "We're not sure what happened, but you seem fine."

Castiel looked around, his familiar frown back in place. "How did I get here?" he asked.

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but Sam beat him to it. Somehow, without Dean noticing, his brother had moved away into one of the corners. "There are some strange symbols here," he said, "and signs of a ritual. I'm guessing you were summoned here. Must have been someone seriously powerful."

Castiel seemed to think this over. Dean could practically see his mind working to put the pieces together. Whatever conclusion he reached, it obviously unsettled him, because he leaped to his feet. "What day is it?" he asked.

"Thursday," Dean replied. "Dude, what...?"

"Thursday," Castiel repeated. "I've been gone for three days."

"Okay," Dean said, "but what...?"

"I need to get back," Castiel interrupted him. Dean's stomach sank. Of course he did. Never mind that Dean was bursting with questions, never mind that he had been crazy with anxiety. Heaven called and Castiel was gone.

Except he wasn't. He was still standing there, staring down at Dean. He seemed to be considering something. Now that the fire was out, the room was dark, but Dean didn't think that the shadow that passed over Castiel's face was entirely due to the absence of light.

"What?" he asked again. Castiel shook his head, but he was still staring. Finally, he seemed to reach a decision. Judging by the way his shoulders slumped and his face became abruptly blank, it was not an easy one.

"We need to talk," he said. The gravity of his tone sent shivers down Dean's spine.

"Okay," Dean said, getting slowly to his feet. Sam came up to stand beside him, looking as apprehensive as Dean felt. “So talk. Tell us what happened. What do you remember?”

Castiel sighed. He looked tired, but there was a strange smile on his face. "Everything," he said, "and nothing." He looked Dean in the eye again. "Please, Dean! There are things I need to tell you. Things you may not want to hear."

That didn’t sound promising and the hopelessness of Castiel’s tone was not exactly comforting, either. Whatever he had to talk about, it obviously wasn’t good news. Dean took a deep breath to steel himself. Without thinking about it, he reached out a hand to grab Castiel’s wrist, wanting to feel warm skin under his fingers. “I’m listening,” he said.

There was that strange smile again. It looked sad, almost wistful, but also unspeakably fond. There was something lurking behind Castiel's eyes, something that had always been there, but never as strong. Maybe it had just been more hidden. Dean could not put a name to it, but he suspected that Castiel could probably see a reflection of it in his own eyes. It could explain why his gaze dropped to Dean's lips for a brief moment, making Dean's heart tremble with feelings stronger than his previous fear. His fingers tightened on Castiel's wrist and he leaned forward infinitesimally.

The moment was broken when Sam cleared his throat. Dean almost jumped. Somehow, he had forgotten that Sam was there. He dropped Castiel’s wrist and took a quick step backwards, his cheeks burning. When he glanced over at Sam, he seemed to be trying to look anywhere but at Dean and Cas.

“Do I need to hear this?” he asked. “If not, I could just wait in the car, until you guys are done talking.”

He put a strange emphasis on the word ‘talking’, which made Dean’s cheeks heat up even more. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d come close to losing Cas before - hell, he had lost him - but he’d never lost his mind like this. Feeling decidedly unsettled, he dug around in his pocket for the keys and threw them to Sam.

“Here,” he said. “We’ll be right out.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at him and glanced meaningfully at Castiel, who was ignoring the exchange in favor of staring at Dean. Not that that was anything new.

“Uh huh,” Sam said. “Take your time!” He turned to leave, but Dean still caught his muttered, “Frickin’ finally.”

Feeling annoyed, embarrassed and inexplicably warm, not only in his cheeks, Dean turned back to Castiel. Dean stepped closer again, but refrained from touching Cas this time. “What’s going on, Cas?” he asked.

Cas shook his head, apparently not knowing how to begin. He looked away again, but this time it seemed to be because he couldn’t bring himself to meet Dean’s eyes. Dean’s heart sank. After a long moment of tense silence, Dean couldn’t take it any longer. “Cas?” he prompted.

“Dean,” Castiel replied. He sounded determined. His gaze finally rose to meet Dean's again, but Dean could not even begin to discern all the emotions therein. All he knew was that he was suddenly having difficulties breathing. “I don’t know how to say this.”

Dean shrugged. “Don’t worry so much about it,” he said. “Just say it.”

Castiel nodded. He was staring again, that piercing stare that felt as if he was looking straight into Dean’s brain. Dean really hoped he wasn’t. There were thoughts in there that he was trying to hide even from himself.

“The first thing I need to tell you,” he said, “is this.” Before Dean could react, Castiel had leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against his. Dean stood frozen to the spot, unable to make himself move. Castiel's lips were soft, but slightly dry, and the kiss was almost chaste. Still, it was undeniably a kiss and even Dean could not doubt its meaning. Nor could he pretend that it was entirely unexpected, or even unwelcome. The only thing that surprised him was that it was Castiel who had made the first move. Dean was just about to put his arms around Castiel and draw him closer, when Castiel pulled away.

“That was better,” he said hoarsely. “So much better, when it’s you.”

Dean wanted to ask what he meant, but he had a feeling now was not the time. Instead, they simply stared at each other for several long moments in silence, which was only broken by Dean's heavy breathing and the strong, fast beats of his heart. Then Dean raised his hand and placed it around Castiel's neck to pull him into another kiss. Castiel made a soft noise and went willingly. They stood for several moments, exchanging slow, deep kisses. Finally, Castiel put his hands against Dean's chest and pushed him away.

“Okay,” Dean said. “So not nearly as bad as you made it sound.” He knew that he must have the stupidest smile on his face, but he couldn’t seem to get rid of it. Not that it mattered. The only person there to see it was Castiel and considering the dazed look on his face, he was in no position to make fun of Dean.

Dean was just about to lean in again to see if he could kiss Castiel out of his dazzled state, when something occurred to him. “Wait,” he said. “You said first of all. Does that mean that there’s something else that you want to tell me?”

Castiel was still staring at Dean's lips, obviously dumbstruck. Judging by the expression on his face, Dean thought that he probably hadn't expected Dean to react as he had. How Castiel could have doubted it, he didn't know, but it made him even more surprised that Castiel was the one to have initiated the first kiss. There was still the matter of the second thing that Castiel had to tell him, however, so Dean waved a hand in front of Castiel to draw his attention away from Dean's mouth, before Dean became as distracted as he was.

Castiel blinked and transferred his gaze to Dean's eyes. This time, Dean had no trouble reading the amazement and the joy in them. He could also see the moment those emotions were replaced by something darker and more desperate. “Cas?” he asked. “The second thing.”

Castiel shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. His eyes kept moving over Dean's face, obviously searching for something. Whatever it was, he seemed to find it, because the troubled expression that had clouded his face suddenly cleared. Slowly, almost hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed, he raised a hand and ran his fingers lightly over Dean's lower lip. Dean caught his hand and kissed his fingertips. Castiel didn't smile, but his face softened in a way that Dean had never seen before. It made something lodge in Dean's throat, cutting off his air-supply and making him light-headed. Castiel's fingers moved from Dean's mouth to cup his cheek, as he brought their faces closer together.

“It can wait,” he said quietly. His lips brushed against Dean's as he spoke. “This is more important.”

Dean had no idea what it was that Castiel had wanted to talk about, but he was still inclined to agree. Whatever it was, it couldn't possibly compare to the gentle movements of Castiel's lips against his, Castiel's taste in his mouth and Castiel's body pressed against his. He felt dizzy and unfettered, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away. The ground seemed to vanish beneath him, as he clung to the angel in his arms. It felt almost as if he was flying, but for once, the idea didn't scare him. Instead, it made him feel almost crazy with exhilaration. He knew that Castiel would catch him if he fell.