DCBB Black Glass pt.5
Part 4
Cas loved the smell of snow, especially when it has fallen the night before and a fresh layer of downy white covered the land. He loved the silence of snowfall, like his silence it was perfection to him. He especially loved it when Dean accompanied him on his winter excursions. Dean still maintained that going out alone in the dead of winter was dangerous, and he needed a partner to help him if he got into any trouble. But Dean wasn’t with him this winter. He was living with the woman, just for the winter, Dean promised, because she was pregnant with his child. No matter how much Dean pleaded and begged him, and oh, did he beg, Cas hadn’t touched him since he heard the news.
Cas would hiss at Dean every time he drew near, even if it was to brush down his feathers or give him something. Cas could see the hurt in his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. A permanent scowl had fixed itself on Cas’s face, and Mary immediately took it as an insult to herself, calling him an “impertinent child”, though Cas was far from a child now. He was in his early thirties, and had fully grown into his body. Dean repeatedly tried to corner him before he took off on his winter hunt, imploring him to listen, to stay, but Cas would not, and for the first time in his life he felt truly frustrated with his lack of words. He longed to scream at Dean, to demand answers, to apologize profusely for whatever he had done, to ask what would make him more appealing than the woman, to threaten her life, to threaten his life but immediately take it back because he could not kill his mate, and Dean knew that, knew how much he meant to the hunter. But he could not say any of these things to Dean. He had been struck dumb, like the animals he associated himself with, as it was the price of such reckless abandon.
“Cas please, just listen to me! It’s dangerous out there, people have been reporting that sentries from the Empire are searching the woods for something, and they’re attacking people they come across, please Cas, just promise me you’ll stay closer to home.”
Cas glared at Dean, incredulous that the man would not accompany him yet he dared dictate where the hunt would take him. As if sensing his train of thought Dean uttered a steady stream of “no” under his breath and tried to grab Cas’s wing joint again, like he did when they were younger, when Dean was his mate and everything was perfect. Cas pushed his arm away, gripping the knife at his waist, daring Dean to move again. Dean stilled, holding up his hands, but did not relax his stance.
“I don’t want to lose you…” Dean pleaded.
Cas narrowed his eyes and shoved him hard in the shoulder, kneeing him in the crotch when he reeled to gain his balance. Dean fell to the ground with a sickening thud, crying out in pain as he did. Cas kicked his legs apart and ground his booted foot against his brother’s groin, snarling at him.
You already lost me.
Sam was the one who tried to stop him last. He caught him before he planned on heading out, in the time before dawn when the air was thin and the sky was a light, ashen gray. He stood in front of the path with a lantern, glaring at him.
“Dean is pretty upset, you know. And I know what…what you guys had, and I’m sorry, I really am, but he’s your brother, first and foremost. Don’t you think you should listen to him? He said that Lisa and whatever children he had with her would be meaningless compared to you.”
Cas narrowed his eyes, familiar with the speech, though he could see the indifference for the woman now replaced with a calm affection that held little in comparison to their fiery love, but it was something, something Dean said wouldn’t happen.
“I like Lisa, enough, but I don’t agree with what Dean’s doing to you. It’s not right, it’s not right for either of us.”
Cas actually felt his anger falter and he cocked his head in confusion, whirring gently, a sign for Sam to continue.
“Dean doesn’t realize how important you are to him, and how much we all rely on your happiness, Cas. I mean, let’s face it, when was the last time you went hunting since Dean told you Lisa was pregnant?”
Cas’s brow furrowed, thinking back. He hadn’t, that was the answer, he hadn’t hunted at all since Dean told him of his betrayal. He whimpered and glanced up at Sam, trying to rub his wing against the giant’s shoulder. Sam let him, but Cas could feel him stiffen.
“It’s not just the food either. I…I relied on Dean keeping you in line. At least let me come with you.”
Cas snarled, not liking the idea of his only remaining nest mate possibly stepping into harm’s way.
“I know it’s a dumb idea, I mean, I haven’t gone hunting with you in over ten years but…”
Distantly Cas wondered about Mary, who would look after her in their absence? She had grown too frail and miserly to let anyone else into the cabin. Cas shook his head resolutely, pointing back to the darkened cabin.
“Cas, please, you don’t know what you’re heading into, just let me come along! If we run into any of the Empire’s soldiers at least I’ll be able to talk some sense into them, maybe…”
Sam was grappling for reasons to come, and Cas still thought it was a bad idea. So he shouldered his way past Sam, grunting and pointing back to the cabin. He could hear Sam’s frustrated swearing but then he felt a prick on his exposed neck. He winced, swatting his hand back-it couldn’t be an insect, too cold for them, a stray bramble maybe?-and felt a cool hard material and a needle that was stuck in his neck.
“I’m sorry, Cas, it had to be done.”
Cas reeled around on his brother, panting for breath and wobbling on his feet. Poison? No, he had built up immunity after all the poison berries he ate in his younger, stupid years, and Sam would never poison him, no matter how frustrating he was.
“Animal tranquilizer, got some from the vet’s office in town. Apparently this serum works well on birds.”
Cas whimpered and fell to his knees, struggling to keep his eyes open but the lids felt so heavy and his eyes felt like they were covered in sand. He struggled to lift his wings, to push Sam away when he drew near, but was powerless when Sam grabbed him beneath his armpits and dragged him onto his hunting sleigh. His heart was beating as fast as it could, given the circumstances, and he truly felt like a drugged animal, powerless to fight off his captor as he was taken away from the tree line. Last thing he saw before fading into a fitful unconsciousness was Sam’s face looking down at him, and Dean’s.
“Lord Michael, news on the…issue we discussed.”
“Yes of course, what is it?”
“A woman from a small town, north of the border, claims to have seen an individual with wings, though she does not know how old he is, or where he came from.”
“There’s a good chance she might not know, given the fact the child is with Gabriel…Send word to the captains, tell them to focus their search on that area, and if they find anything, anything at all, they must report back immediately.”
“Yes, your grace.”
Michael watched as the sentry left the throne room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. That damn fool Gabriel, he knew exactly what he was doing when he took that child from the Basilica all those years ago. Michael could not ascend to the high throne until all other descendants of his father were either deceased or abdicated of their power. How was he to know that he had a long lost older brother, a half blood that shouldn’t even be able to assume the throne, yet apparently he could, and had every right to as well. If the child, no, man showed up in the next hour with proof of his ancestry, he could assume the Holy Throne then and there, no strings attached. Now, all likelihood of this occurring was slim, but Michael couldn’t help but be wary, he was a cautious man, after all.
He sighed and stood from his throne. By law he was not permitted to sit in the Holy Throne till he assumed power over the Empire, until then he would sit in the smaller throne, off the pedestal, to the left. He walked from the room, not really looking at anyone or anything that crossed his path. He was too caught up in his thoughts, thoughts most foul, but who would know but himself?
He rounded a corner and bumped into a lowly servant, and he sneered at her, tucking his robe about him and stalked away. She couldn’t help the small sob that escaped her lips when she fell to the floor. She knew why the Prince was behaving so erratically, why the Ministers were buzzing about in nervous energy day in and out. It had been discovered that an illegitimate child had been born to the previous Emperor, but since he had been born before the true heir, his blood took precedence over Michael’s. She silently passed a prayer to heaven, pleading with the Lord to guide the True Prince safely home, to assume the throne and perhaps end the curse on his ancient house.
“Be strong, girl.”
A white cloaked figure pulled her to her feet, smiling and holding her hand gently till she righted herself.
“Thank you, lord Uriel.”
The man smiled and tucked his obsidian wing around her shoulder, ushering her down the hall.
“Now, Anna has told me the story about the long lost Holy Child. I’m sure you’ve heard of it as well. What do you make of it?”
“My lord?”
“How does it make you feel? I for one desire the Prince to return home. Too much has gone wrong in the Empire as of late, we need an Emperor who would be wise in the ways of the people, would right all these wrongs. We need him the way he is, raised outside of the Basilica’s influence.”
“M-my lord, I couldn’t possibly…”
Uriel chuckled and paused outside the entrance to the Basilica.
“Pay me no heed, child, I am just an old fool, caught up in…too many memories…”
The girl nodded, bowing slightly before ushering off to her duties. Uriel sighed, watching her go as he fiddled with a locket in his pocket. Speaking so openly of the “Unholy” Prince had been outlawed by Michael, and so wearing the locket would be treasonous. He quickly paced his way to his quarters, shutting and locking the door. He sat at his desk and placed the locket in front of him, opening it slowly, reverently.
Inside laid a small picture of a child, rosy cheeked with a full head of black hair and the brightest eyes he had ever seen. Tiny downy wings sprouted from his back, poking out of his oversized robes and feathers stuck every which way. His wings were tawny, though a shade darker than his sire’s. And strangely enough for one so young he held the darkest scowl Uriel had ever seen. He chuckled, remembering when he was introduced to the child, in secret of course. The child had always looked so upset, frowning at everything, though he never shed a tear. It seemed more of a general disgruntlement, and Uriel felt the same lately, and found his thoughts straying to the tiny Prince.
He remembered the day when Gabriel planned on escaping with him. Gabriel had loved Anna, and therefore loved whatever child that came from her, regardless if he was the sire, and he took Castiel as his own. When he learned of the plot to murder Anna and her infant son he knew he had to act quickly. He enlisted Uriel’s help, and before the older man knew it, Gabriel, Anna and the boy were sailing away, north bound to escape the clutches of the Empire. Uriel remembered standing on that dock in the chill of the morning, when the sun hadn’t quite risen yet and a quiet settled on the water. He remembered a rumble in the distance, and couldn’t help but take it as a bad omen. Now he wondered where exactly Gabriel had taken his woman and child, and if he ever planned on returning to the Empire.
Uriel hoped, for Castiel’s sake, they would stay as far away as they could.
He woke to a resounding pain in his back and head, and he gasped out a breathy whine, writhing in his restraints. He had already woken earlier, dazed and frightened beyond reason. They had tied him down, he was grounded, tethered, beaten into submission. Dean had been there, trying to soothe him, trying to speak with him over the pounding in his ears but he couldn’t bear to see him. Now he was awake again, and alone with his pain. He heard a shuffle beyond his limited, blackened vision, and no, he was not alone.
“Cas? Cas, you awake?”
Cas punctuated Dean’s name, creating the faintest of whispers and immediately the man was there, holding his hand and soothing his bunched muscles.
“Stop fighting, Cas, stop, you’ll only hurt yourself even more.”
More? Cas thought, mentally casting around, searching for hidden aches, and there it was, a low bloom of heat in his right wing. He twitched it and immediately squealed in pain. He jerked his head around on the table, searching for his wound in the dark, and saw his wing hanging limply to the side, unnaturally slack and the tip remained unresponsive.
“Please stop fighting,” Dean whimpered, tightening his hold on Cas’s hand. “You woke up before this, you were thrashing so much, I-I couldn’t hold you down and you…you broke your wing, Cas…”
Cas sobbed, letting his head fall back to the table. The pain was all encompassing, it prodded white-hot at his brain and he panted in exertion.
“I’m sorry Cas, I’m so sorry…”
He writhed and whined on the hard table, keening sharply whenever he jostled his wing.
“C’mon Cas, please…”
Cas frantically shook his head, he had to get out.
“Don’t make me do this…”
Cas looked over at where he heard Dean‘s voice, saw his brother with another needle filled with a clear liquid, the tranquilizer. Cas frantically shook his head, ceasing his struggling. His head hurt enough, he didn’t want to go through that again. Dean visibly deflated, placing the needle on the table and Cas scooted away from it as much as he was able.
“We had to stop you from leaving. The soldiers from the Empire are in the town, interrogating people as we speak. If you had gone in the woods it would have been all over.”
Cas narrowed his eyes in confusion. What did the Empire have to do with anything? They didn’t worship his Gods, only John had ever set foot there, and only he had had any connection with it before he died. Dean sighed, glancing away.
“We’ll talk about it later. For now we just need to keep you hidden and safe.”
Cas found himself nodding, trusting his older brother as he once did. He found he wanted to trust Dean, regardless of what they had been through the past few months. He whirred to catch Dean’s attention and the man turned back to him, unveiled hope shining in his eyes. Cas beat his other, non-injured wing in the air, smiling slightly and looking away. Dean grinned and sat back on the table, fiddling with the feathers that had fallen from the younger’s wings in the upset. Dean hesitated, for a mere moment, before leaning over and sealing Cas’s mouth with his in a chaste kiss. Cas whined, jerking his head forward to deepen the kiss and Dean grunted, pushing Cas back and pushing himself up on the table, straddling him.
He leaned fully onto his brother, crushing him down onto the old wood, licking and biting into his mouth and Cas sighed around his tongue. He swiftly forgot about his broken wing, immersing himself in the pleasures of his brother’s talented tongue. It had been far too long, for both of them, to worry about consequences. Dean moaned and began to grind down on Cas’s swiftly filling member, panting with his eyes shut, focused solely on chasing his own pleasure. Cas bucked up and whined when heat pooled in his groin, when the pressure of Dean’s hips almost became too much. Dean whined and scooted back, unzipping his pants and yanking down Cas’s simple drawstring buckskin pants, releasing each other to the cool cellar air.
Dean worked them both in his hands, concentrating, and Cas focused on the line of sweat that disappeared down the collar of Dean’s shirt, and he licked his lips, wishing he could have chased that bead of salt water with his tongue. Dean’s hand left him and he looked down when he heard a grunt. Dean was using their collective precome and was opening himself up, fucking down on his own fingers and Cas almost growled in lust. Dean saw him looking and he leaned back on one hand, displaying himself for his mate’s perusal and Cas purred in delight, watching him tremble and clench around three of his own thick, calloused fingers.
Cas yanked halfheartedly at his restraints again, wanting to feel his mate, to touch him for the first time in many months, but Dean was in no position to stop just to release him, and Cas didn’t want his brother to stop anyway. Dean pulled his fingers from his body moments later, spitting on his hand and lubing Cas up, and that was his only warning before Dean began to sink down on him. Cas let his head fall back and he issued a tight sigh, groaning ever so slightly when he bottomed out, feeling Dean’s trembling thighs on his hips. Dean didn’t even pause to adjust, he just started to fuck himself on Cas’s straining dick. Cas grunted in surprise, looking down, eyes furrowed in confusion. Dean wasn’t nearly as tight as he should have been given his minimal preparation.
“Fucked myself on my fingers…almost every night imagining it was you…only slept with Lisa once,” he stuttered his hips and issued a breathy chuckle turned moan, “figures that be the time I got her pregnant.”
Cas couldn’t believe it, his mate had only slept with the woman once. Maybe, just maybe, his mate still loved him, still needed him. Dean was almost punishing in his pace, slapping down hard onto Cas’s rigid flesh and Cas, though reluctant, bucked up to meet him. It was pleasure bordering on pain with Dean, always. They were never soft, they weren’t women, they needed no sympathy or coaxing or sweet words in the dark by candlelight; they were men, and they would love like men. The sounds his mate made in response to his participation were borderline animalistic; grunts and groans of his name snarled out between filthy words that hung putrid in the air. They couldn’t love any other way, Cas thought, it wouldn’t be right, it wouldn’t make sense at all. It would be like the paper money in the town, it would be like lights without flame and carriages without horses and things that could fly in the wide sky without blood, bone and feather.
Dean continued to ride Cas, long and hard, moaning and panting his name till shortly they both came, though Cas was understandably less vocal. It had been like the first time Cas had dared touch Dean in such a way. They were young, foolish, and Dean had to fabricate a tale of falling from the roof to explain his prominent limp. Cas and Dean both learned that proper preparation had to be completed before either of them dared a coupling. Dean had been hiding his blood spotted underclothes for days.
Dean cleaned them both up afterwards, and Cas purred in delight when he saw Dean limp slightly. He took care in observing his mate, noticing the deeper set age lines around his eyes and face, how he seemed…lessened. The man he grew up with, the man who he fell in love with, the man he mated with, was disappearing. He had to take him away, had to take him into the wild where everything would be perfect. But these Empire people…they seemed to be the ones holding him back from his dream.
Cas loved the smell of snow, especially when it has fallen the night before and a fresh layer of downy white covered the land. He loved the silence of snowfall, like his silence it was perfection to him. He especially loved it when Dean accompanied him on his winter excursions. Dean still maintained that going out alone in the dead of winter was dangerous, and he needed a partner to help him if he got into any trouble. But Dean wasn’t with him this winter. He was living with the woman, just for the winter, Dean promised, because she was pregnant with his child. No matter how much Dean pleaded and begged him, and oh, did he beg, Cas hadn’t touched him since he heard the news.
Cas would hiss at Dean every time he drew near, even if it was to brush down his feathers or give him something. Cas could see the hurt in his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. A permanent scowl had fixed itself on Cas’s face, and Mary immediately took it as an insult to herself, calling him an “impertinent child”, though Cas was far from a child now. He was in his early thirties, and had fully grown into his body. Dean repeatedly tried to corner him before he took off on his winter hunt, imploring him to listen, to stay, but Cas would not, and for the first time in his life he felt truly frustrated with his lack of words. He longed to scream at Dean, to demand answers, to apologize profusely for whatever he had done, to ask what would make him more appealing than the woman, to threaten her life, to threaten his life but immediately take it back because he could not kill his mate, and Dean knew that, knew how much he meant to the hunter. But he could not say any of these things to Dean. He had been struck dumb, like the animals he associated himself with, as it was the price of such reckless abandon.
“Cas please, just listen to me! It’s dangerous out there, people have been reporting that sentries from the Empire are searching the woods for something, and they’re attacking people they come across, please Cas, just promise me you’ll stay closer to home.”
Cas glared at Dean, incredulous that the man would not accompany him yet he dared dictate where the hunt would take him. As if sensing his train of thought Dean uttered a steady stream of “no” under his breath and tried to grab Cas’s wing joint again, like he did when they were younger, when Dean was his mate and everything was perfect. Cas pushed his arm away, gripping the knife at his waist, daring Dean to move again. Dean stilled, holding up his hands, but did not relax his stance.
“I don’t want to lose you…” Dean pleaded.
Cas narrowed his eyes and shoved him hard in the shoulder, kneeing him in the crotch when he reeled to gain his balance. Dean fell to the ground with a sickening thud, crying out in pain as he did. Cas kicked his legs apart and ground his booted foot against his brother’s groin, snarling at him.
You already lost me.
Sam was the one who tried to stop him last. He caught him before he planned on heading out, in the time before dawn when the air was thin and the sky was a light, ashen gray. He stood in front of the path with a lantern, glaring at him.
“Dean is pretty upset, you know. And I know what…what you guys had, and I’m sorry, I really am, but he’s your brother, first and foremost. Don’t you think you should listen to him? He said that Lisa and whatever children he had with her would be meaningless compared to you.”
Cas narrowed his eyes, familiar with the speech, though he could see the indifference for the woman now replaced with a calm affection that held little in comparison to their fiery love, but it was something, something Dean said wouldn’t happen.
“I like Lisa, enough, but I don’t agree with what Dean’s doing to you. It’s not right, it’s not right for either of us.”
Cas actually felt his anger falter and he cocked his head in confusion, whirring gently, a sign for Sam to continue.
“Dean doesn’t realize how important you are to him, and how much we all rely on your happiness, Cas. I mean, let’s face it, when was the last time you went hunting since Dean told you Lisa was pregnant?”
Cas’s brow furrowed, thinking back. He hadn’t, that was the answer, he hadn’t hunted at all since Dean told him of his betrayal. He whimpered and glanced up at Sam, trying to rub his wing against the giant’s shoulder. Sam let him, but Cas could feel him stiffen.
“It’s not just the food either. I…I relied on Dean keeping you in line. At least let me come with you.”
Cas snarled, not liking the idea of his only remaining nest mate possibly stepping into harm’s way.
“I know it’s a dumb idea, I mean, I haven’t gone hunting with you in over ten years but…”
Distantly Cas wondered about Mary, who would look after her in their absence? She had grown too frail and miserly to let anyone else into the cabin. Cas shook his head resolutely, pointing back to the darkened cabin.
“Cas, please, you don’t know what you’re heading into, just let me come along! If we run into any of the Empire’s soldiers at least I’ll be able to talk some sense into them, maybe…”
Sam was grappling for reasons to come, and Cas still thought it was a bad idea. So he shouldered his way past Sam, grunting and pointing back to the cabin. He could hear Sam’s frustrated swearing but then he felt a prick on his exposed neck. He winced, swatting his hand back-it couldn’t be an insect, too cold for them, a stray bramble maybe?-and felt a cool hard material and a needle that was stuck in his neck.
“I’m sorry, Cas, it had to be done.”
Cas reeled around on his brother, panting for breath and wobbling on his feet. Poison? No, he had built up immunity after all the poison berries he ate in his younger, stupid years, and Sam would never poison him, no matter how frustrating he was.
“Animal tranquilizer, got some from the vet’s office in town. Apparently this serum works well on birds.”
Cas whimpered and fell to his knees, struggling to keep his eyes open but the lids felt so heavy and his eyes felt like they were covered in sand. He struggled to lift his wings, to push Sam away when he drew near, but was powerless when Sam grabbed him beneath his armpits and dragged him onto his hunting sleigh. His heart was beating as fast as it could, given the circumstances, and he truly felt like a drugged animal, powerless to fight off his captor as he was taken away from the tree line. Last thing he saw before fading into a fitful unconsciousness was Sam’s face looking down at him, and Dean’s.
“Lord Michael, news on the…issue we discussed.”
“Yes of course, what is it?”
“A woman from a small town, north of the border, claims to have seen an individual with wings, though she does not know how old he is, or where he came from.”
“There’s a good chance she might not know, given the fact the child is with Gabriel…Send word to the captains, tell them to focus their search on that area, and if they find anything, anything at all, they must report back immediately.”
“Yes, your grace.”
Michael watched as the sentry left the throne room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. That damn fool Gabriel, he knew exactly what he was doing when he took that child from the Basilica all those years ago. Michael could not ascend to the high throne until all other descendants of his father were either deceased or abdicated of their power. How was he to know that he had a long lost older brother, a half blood that shouldn’t even be able to assume the throne, yet apparently he could, and had every right to as well. If the child, no, man showed up in the next hour with proof of his ancestry, he could assume the Holy Throne then and there, no strings attached. Now, all likelihood of this occurring was slim, but Michael couldn’t help but be wary, he was a cautious man, after all.
He sighed and stood from his throne. By law he was not permitted to sit in the Holy Throne till he assumed power over the Empire, until then he would sit in the smaller throne, off the pedestal, to the left. He walked from the room, not really looking at anyone or anything that crossed his path. He was too caught up in his thoughts, thoughts most foul, but who would know but himself?
He rounded a corner and bumped into a lowly servant, and he sneered at her, tucking his robe about him and stalked away. She couldn’t help the small sob that escaped her lips when she fell to the floor. She knew why the Prince was behaving so erratically, why the Ministers were buzzing about in nervous energy day in and out. It had been discovered that an illegitimate child had been born to the previous Emperor, but since he had been born before the true heir, his blood took precedence over Michael’s. She silently passed a prayer to heaven, pleading with the Lord to guide the True Prince safely home, to assume the throne and perhaps end the curse on his ancient house.
“Be strong, girl.”
A white cloaked figure pulled her to her feet, smiling and holding her hand gently till she righted herself.
“Thank you, lord Uriel.”
The man smiled and tucked his obsidian wing around her shoulder, ushering her down the hall.
“Now, Anna has told me the story about the long lost Holy Child. I’m sure you’ve heard of it as well. What do you make of it?”
“My lord?”
“How does it make you feel? I for one desire the Prince to return home. Too much has gone wrong in the Empire as of late, we need an Emperor who would be wise in the ways of the people, would right all these wrongs. We need him the way he is, raised outside of the Basilica’s influence.”
“M-my lord, I couldn’t possibly…”
Uriel chuckled and paused outside the entrance to the Basilica.
“Pay me no heed, child, I am just an old fool, caught up in…too many memories…”
The girl nodded, bowing slightly before ushering off to her duties. Uriel sighed, watching her go as he fiddled with a locket in his pocket. Speaking so openly of the “Unholy” Prince had been outlawed by Michael, and so wearing the locket would be treasonous. He quickly paced his way to his quarters, shutting and locking the door. He sat at his desk and placed the locket in front of him, opening it slowly, reverently.
Inside laid a small picture of a child, rosy cheeked with a full head of black hair and the brightest eyes he had ever seen. Tiny downy wings sprouted from his back, poking out of his oversized robes and feathers stuck every which way. His wings were tawny, though a shade darker than his sire’s. And strangely enough for one so young he held the darkest scowl Uriel had ever seen. He chuckled, remembering when he was introduced to the child, in secret of course. The child had always looked so upset, frowning at everything, though he never shed a tear. It seemed more of a general disgruntlement, and Uriel felt the same lately, and found his thoughts straying to the tiny Prince.
He remembered the day when Gabriel planned on escaping with him. Gabriel had loved Anna, and therefore loved whatever child that came from her, regardless if he was the sire, and he took Castiel as his own. When he learned of the plot to murder Anna and her infant son he knew he had to act quickly. He enlisted Uriel’s help, and before the older man knew it, Gabriel, Anna and the boy were sailing away, north bound to escape the clutches of the Empire. Uriel remembered standing on that dock in the chill of the morning, when the sun hadn’t quite risen yet and a quiet settled on the water. He remembered a rumble in the distance, and couldn’t help but take it as a bad omen. Now he wondered where exactly Gabriel had taken his woman and child, and if he ever planned on returning to the Empire.
Uriel hoped, for Castiel’s sake, they would stay as far away as they could.
He woke to a resounding pain in his back and head, and he gasped out a breathy whine, writhing in his restraints. He had already woken earlier, dazed and frightened beyond reason. They had tied him down, he was grounded, tethered, beaten into submission. Dean had been there, trying to soothe him, trying to speak with him over the pounding in his ears but he couldn’t bear to see him. Now he was awake again, and alone with his pain. He heard a shuffle beyond his limited, blackened vision, and no, he was not alone.
“Cas? Cas, you awake?”
Cas punctuated Dean’s name, creating the faintest of whispers and immediately the man was there, holding his hand and soothing his bunched muscles.
“Stop fighting, Cas, stop, you’ll only hurt yourself even more.”
More? Cas thought, mentally casting around, searching for hidden aches, and there it was, a low bloom of heat in his right wing. He twitched it and immediately squealed in pain. He jerked his head around on the table, searching for his wound in the dark, and saw his wing hanging limply to the side, unnaturally slack and the tip remained unresponsive.
“Please stop fighting,” Dean whimpered, tightening his hold on Cas’s hand. “You woke up before this, you were thrashing so much, I-I couldn’t hold you down and you…you broke your wing, Cas…”
Cas sobbed, letting his head fall back to the table. The pain was all encompassing, it prodded white-hot at his brain and he panted in exertion.
“I’m sorry Cas, I’m so sorry…”
He writhed and whined on the hard table, keening sharply whenever he jostled his wing.
“C’mon Cas, please…”
Cas frantically shook his head, he had to get out.
“Don’t make me do this…”
Cas looked over at where he heard Dean‘s voice, saw his brother with another needle filled with a clear liquid, the tranquilizer. Cas frantically shook his head, ceasing his struggling. His head hurt enough, he didn’t want to go through that again. Dean visibly deflated, placing the needle on the table and Cas scooted away from it as much as he was able.
“We had to stop you from leaving. The soldiers from the Empire are in the town, interrogating people as we speak. If you had gone in the woods it would have been all over.”
Cas narrowed his eyes in confusion. What did the Empire have to do with anything? They didn’t worship his Gods, only John had ever set foot there, and only he had had any connection with it before he died. Dean sighed, glancing away.
“We’ll talk about it later. For now we just need to keep you hidden and safe.”
Cas found himself nodding, trusting his older brother as he once did. He found he wanted to trust Dean, regardless of what they had been through the past few months. He whirred to catch Dean’s attention and the man turned back to him, unveiled hope shining in his eyes. Cas beat his other, non-injured wing in the air, smiling slightly and looking away. Dean grinned and sat back on the table, fiddling with the feathers that had fallen from the younger’s wings in the upset. Dean hesitated, for a mere moment, before leaning over and sealing Cas’s mouth with his in a chaste kiss. Cas whined, jerking his head forward to deepen the kiss and Dean grunted, pushing Cas back and pushing himself up on the table, straddling him.
He leaned fully onto his brother, crushing him down onto the old wood, licking and biting into his mouth and Cas sighed around his tongue. He swiftly forgot about his broken wing, immersing himself in the pleasures of his brother’s talented tongue. It had been far too long, for both of them, to worry about consequences. Dean moaned and began to grind down on Cas’s swiftly filling member, panting with his eyes shut, focused solely on chasing his own pleasure. Cas bucked up and whined when heat pooled in his groin, when the pressure of Dean’s hips almost became too much. Dean whined and scooted back, unzipping his pants and yanking down Cas’s simple drawstring buckskin pants, releasing each other to the cool cellar air.
Dean worked them both in his hands, concentrating, and Cas focused on the line of sweat that disappeared down the collar of Dean’s shirt, and he licked his lips, wishing he could have chased that bead of salt water with his tongue. Dean’s hand left him and he looked down when he heard a grunt. Dean was using their collective precome and was opening himself up, fucking down on his own fingers and Cas almost growled in lust. Dean saw him looking and he leaned back on one hand, displaying himself for his mate’s perusal and Cas purred in delight, watching him tremble and clench around three of his own thick, calloused fingers.
Cas yanked halfheartedly at his restraints again, wanting to feel his mate, to touch him for the first time in many months, but Dean was in no position to stop just to release him, and Cas didn’t want his brother to stop anyway. Dean pulled his fingers from his body moments later, spitting on his hand and lubing Cas up, and that was his only warning before Dean began to sink down on him. Cas let his head fall back and he issued a tight sigh, groaning ever so slightly when he bottomed out, feeling Dean’s trembling thighs on his hips. Dean didn’t even pause to adjust, he just started to fuck himself on Cas’s straining dick. Cas grunted in surprise, looking down, eyes furrowed in confusion. Dean wasn’t nearly as tight as he should have been given his minimal preparation.
“Fucked myself on my fingers…almost every night imagining it was you…only slept with Lisa once,” he stuttered his hips and issued a breathy chuckle turned moan, “figures that be the time I got her pregnant.”
Cas couldn’t believe it, his mate had only slept with the woman once. Maybe, just maybe, his mate still loved him, still needed him. Dean was almost punishing in his pace, slapping down hard onto Cas’s rigid flesh and Cas, though reluctant, bucked up to meet him. It was pleasure bordering on pain with Dean, always. They were never soft, they weren’t women, they needed no sympathy or coaxing or sweet words in the dark by candlelight; they were men, and they would love like men. The sounds his mate made in response to his participation were borderline animalistic; grunts and groans of his name snarled out between filthy words that hung putrid in the air. They couldn’t love any other way, Cas thought, it wouldn’t be right, it wouldn’t make sense at all. It would be like the paper money in the town, it would be like lights without flame and carriages without horses and things that could fly in the wide sky without blood, bone and feather.
Dean continued to ride Cas, long and hard, moaning and panting his name till shortly they both came, though Cas was understandably less vocal. It had been like the first time Cas had dared touch Dean in such a way. They were young, foolish, and Dean had to fabricate a tale of falling from the roof to explain his prominent limp. Cas and Dean both learned that proper preparation had to be completed before either of them dared a coupling. Dean had been hiding his blood spotted underclothes for days.
Dean cleaned them both up afterwards, and Cas purred in delight when he saw Dean limp slightly. He took care in observing his mate, noticing the deeper set age lines around his eyes and face, how he seemed…lessened. The man he grew up with, the man who he fell in love with, the man he mated with, was disappearing. He had to take him away, had to take him into the wild where everything would be perfect. But these Empire people…they seemed to be the ones holding him back from his dream.