The Crimson Prince: part III
It was the soldiers that found them, smiles on their faces since they were the conquering heroes that had saved the governor’s niece. They walked them back to the beach where Governor Carter met them with a hug and a handshake.
“Oh Meghan my dear, I am so glad you are alive.” Carter breathed with a sigh of relief. He was a tall man; strong build with a neatly trimmed beard. He wore the uniform of a Commodore and Castiel is a little surprised. He had known that Meghan’s uncle was in the navy but he had been unaware that he held the rank of Commodore.
“It was James, uncle. He was so brave he fought the pirate and kept me safe.” Meg gushed with happiness, her fingers still tightly, almost protectively entwined with Castiel’s.
“Well then, it seems I have you to thank for my niece being safe and in one piece Mr Novak.” Alistair stated. Shaking Castiel’s hand and patting him on the back.
“I was just doing my duty, Sir,” Castiel explained. He had not protected her just because it was Meghan he would have done it for anyone that needed protecting.
“Well be that as it may thank you James,” the governor said with a slight frown and look of appraisal. “Please, call me Alistair.”
The soldiers laid out the bodies of the five dead pirates and Castiel makes sure to look at each of them. Castiel is relieved to have the feeling of a weight lift off his chest at the fact that Dean and Sam are not among the bodies in the sand.
Before they had ran into the trees Castiel had seen the Crimson Prince raise her sails and head out into open water. Castiel had wondered why Dean’s men would turn tail and run but now as he stood on the beach he could see the HMS Celeste.
“Beautiful is she not?” Alistair asks as he stood beside Castiel.
“It is bigger than the Crimson Prince,” was all that Castiel can think of by way of reply.
“Well that is because she is a ship of the line. Best one in the Jamaican fleet.” Alistair explained. Castiel was aware it was the ship he would be sailing and he knew that she had seventy cannons across two gun decks.
The thing was he had not seen the ship before today and he was kind of a little disappointed. She was big with a heavy bottom which meant the Prince could easily out run her. It explained why no one had ever caught Dean.
“Oh yes she is quite . . . imposing.” Castiel decided that was the better word. The Celeste was a good ship but he could not bring himself to describe her as impressive after seeing the Prince.
“So shall we see about getting you two home to Port Royal,” Alistair offered with a raised an eyebrow. The man seemed to be smug about something and Castiel wondered if he was always like that or if it was just because he had thwarted a pirate.
“How did you know we were here?” Castiel asked his brow creasing slightly. He already had a good guess at why.
“I was looking for another criminal and just happened upon the little meeting. It is lucky that I did,” Alistair explained, his expression serious.
“Are you going to go after the rest of those Bastards, uncle?” Meghan asked angrily. Castiel was a little surprised to hear such language from her.
“Language, my dear,” Alistair said with a smile that did not really seem to discourage Meghan’s use of the word. “Once we get back to Port Royal we will give you time to rest up and then we will have a dinner to announce James becoming captain.”
Meghan glared at Castiel for a moment before Alistair added. “Once he is your husband and captain of the Celeste I am sure he will do a wonderful job of capturing them and bringing them to justice for you.”
“I will not be happy until all the pirates are hanging from the gibbet in Port Royal harbor,” Castiel offered taking Meghan’s hand again. He traced his thumb across the back of her hand and smiled.
Meghan considered and smiled back before leaning in and pressing a kiss to Castiel’s cheek. “Thank you James. I knew you were too good a man to let slip through my fingers.”
A few days later and Castiel walked down the hill from the governor’s mansion where he was staying and made his way slowly through the town. He needed to go to the blacksmith and see about getting a new sword made.
There were also a number of things he needed to see about for the wedding. There was a suit fitting and ordering flowers. He had to see a jeweler about rings. There were a lot of things to do and not a lot of time to get them done in.
Port Royal was smaller than Castiel had pictured it. It was said to be one of the most thriving colonies and a hub of trade. There was a tavern or a whorehouse on every corner and the streets were full of hawkers selling their wares. Castiel was just glad that the clean sea breeze seemed to make the place smell cleaner than it looked.
Castiel was making his way through the market place looking for a flower seller when he was stopped by two women. One was slim and young. Her long blond hair went down over her shoulders, not hiding her pretty face as she looked up at him. The bottom of her skirt was muddy but other than that, she seemed well to do.
The other, an elderly widow was dressed in black from head to toe. A long black veil covered the widow’s head and face. She was bent low over her cane with a hunched back and the young blond had her arm around her in support.
“Excuse me Captain Novak?” The younger woman asked. Castiel thought she seemed familiar but he could not place where he knew the face from.
Castiel took of his hat and bowed neatly. “Mesdames. How can I be of assistance Miss?”
“The widow Rochester would like a word with you.” The young woman glanced around and then pointed to a nearby tavern. “Could we go into the tavern so she can sit? We would be happy to buy you a drink for your time sir.”
Castiel glanced at the tavern. A wooden sign above the door held the picture of a piglet in a sack. A place named Pig in a Poke did not exactly sound like the kind of place a gentleman would take a lady but since it was the woman who suggested it Castiel nodded.
The three of them walked in silence, Castiel holding the door open for them before entering the tavern himself. Once inside Castiel could see by the patrons that his first assumption had been correct. The only other women in the place seemed to be slatternly. They were probably all Doxies
“There is a private room in the back Mr. Novak,” the younger woman told him. Pointing with her head in the direction of a door to the back of the room passed the bar. Castiel nodded and lead the way.
The barkeep, a runt of a man with a scruffy beard and squirrely features stood behind the bar rubbing the edge of a tankard with a dirty rag. He watched them out of the corner of his eye as they walked across the room and made their way to the door.
The room on the other side was dark, heavy drapes over the windows blocking out most of the light and Castiel stopped not quite willing to follow the two women into the darkened room.
Before Castiel could retreat he felt the point of a blade at the base of his spine. “Keep walking, Mr. Novak,” a gruff voice grumbled near his ear as a hand rested on his shoulder.
Castiel entered the room, cursing himself for falling into such a stupid trap and wondering who or why they would set a trap like this for him in the first place. Behind him the door shut and Castiel could hear the sound of whispering. The knife still pressed against his back.
A match was struck and the light from it allowed Castiel to see the widow lighting a lamp. It lit the room and the widow straightened to her full height. She was not some stooped and elderly woman She was tall and broad and…
“Sam?” Castiel gasped as his brain latched onto the realization of who it was.
“See Jo, I told you the dress would not fool him,” Sam said with a grin as he pulled the veil from off his head.
“And I told you if you wanted me in a dress then you had to wear one too,” Jo retorted with a chuckle as she flopped down into a chair.
“I still say you cheated and did my corset up tighter!” Sam scowled even though he was still smiling at the girl.
“When you two ladies are done arguing, we got more important things to discuss,” Bobby said as he put his knife away and stepped from behind Castiel.
“What are all of you doing here?” Where is Dean?” Castiel asked, surprised to see the pirates here incognito and without Dean.
“When you and Meg were rescued, Dean was captured,” Bobby explained his brow knitting together.
“Alistair captured him,” Sam added, a worried look crossing his face.
Castiel frowned unsure of whether he should believe it or not. Alistair had shown no indication of having captured any of the fleeing pirates. He certainly had not seen any of them taken onto or off the ship. Although an escort of men had marched inland and not returned to the ship
“We ran for the trees but there were too many soldiers. Dean drew their fire to let the rest of us escape,” Sam explained.
“As far as we can gather, he was transported to Marshallsea prison the day after you arrived,” Bobby sighed. He lifted his hat and scratched at his brow before he placed it back on his head.
“Why are you telling me this?” Castiel asked, confused.
“We need your help,” Jo told him as she sat forward on the chair, her elbows on her knees. She may have been wearing a dress but she still did not act very feminine. “We need your help to bust him out.”
Castiel looked at Sam. Jo had to be joking, right? He was a Captain in his Majesty’s Navy. Busting a pirate out of Marshallsea would be a betrayal of the oath he took when he joined the Navy. It would also brand him a traitor.
Not to mention the fact that he was engaged to the governor’s niece. Governor Carter seemed by all accounts to be a decent man. Castiel certainly had no reason to believe these people over his niece.
It has been twenty years since he last saw Dean and so much had changed. Castiel stood there and rubbed his thumb across the small scar on the palm of his hand.
“I cannot help you,” Castiel said with a dismissive shake of his head. “I will not break into the prison.”
“We do not need you to break in, Castiel,” Sam told him as all the eyes in the room implore to him for help. “We just need you to confirm that he is there.”
Castiel took a breath and shook his head again. He could not. He was not certain as to whom it was a betrayal of, but he could not help these pirates.
“Told you, he wouldn’t help,” Jo declared rising to her feet and putting her hands on her hips. “Dean should have told him about what Alistair did on the Hanover.”
“Leave it out, Jo,” Sam said cutting her off with a shake of his head. Sam looked at Castiel and bit his own bottom lip. “It is not our place to tell Castiel about it.”
Bobby patted Castiel on the shoulder. “Look boy, we cannot make you help us,” he said. “But maybe you could just think about it. If you change your mind, tell the tavern keeper. He will get word to us wherever we are.”
Castiel wandered almost aimlessly around the town until late afternoon after that. He needed to collect his thoughts before he faced Meghan and her uncle. His mind raced with what he had seen so far of the man and what Sam and Jo had told him.
The thing that hung heaviest on him was: where was Dean? Thoughts of him being shot or dead somewhere back on that beach had forced Castiel to sit until his heart stopped racing and he could breathe again.
When he walked into the house Castiel found Meghan embroidering in the sitting room by the last of the light through the bay window. When he entered the room she smiled, putting down the sewing and jumping up out of her chair.
“Oh James, where on earth have you been?” She asked as ran across the room wrapping her arms around him and crashing their lips together.
Castiel wrapped her up in his arms kissing her back even though he was surprised. This being their first real kiss and not some quickly stolen peck on the cheek when Miss Flanders was not looking.
It is not sweet like he had imagined it would be. Instead it was hard and passionate and it took his breath away. Apparently Meghan had become much more amorous now that there was no chaperone to watch over them.
Only thing was Castiel found himself thinking about Dean. When his friend had kissed him on the ship it had been soft and sweet. Castiel frowned and tried to concentrate on now instead of thinking about Dean whilst he kissed Meg.
The sound of someone clearing their throat had Castiel pulling away with a blush. Alistair stood by the door, watching them with an appraising look.
“Good evening James,” he greeted. “Would you join me in my study for a snifter of brandy?” Alistair did not wait for Castiel’s reply he simply turned and walked from the room.
Castiel felt like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He bit his own bottom lip and glanced at Meghan who smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
“Do not worry, uncle does not bite.” She walked back towards her embroidery before she added, “Much,” with a smile.
Castiel followed after Alistair and found him sitting at his desk already pouring the second drink into a glass. Castiel took a deep breath and knocked at the door.
“Come in and close the door.” Alistair ordered, as he pushed one of the glasses to the other side of the desk for Castiel.
The study was a cozy little wood paneled room with a large mahogany desk sat in the middle of it. The walls were lined with numerous cupboards and books. One wall held a large fireplace above which was a painting of a large sailing ship.
Castiel did not particularly feel comfortable about sitting so instead he took the offered glass and stood by the fireplace admiring the painting.
“So James, how are the wedding plans?” Alistair asked as he eased back in his broad leather chair.
Castiel shrugs. “As good as can be expected.” Given the fact that the rings and the dress were still on the Eryines.
“But surely you must be excited, James?” Alistair asked with a smile.
Castiel smiled and nodded but Meg spoke from the door way before he could reply.
“Of course he is excited uncle. He is marrying the woman of his dreams,” She said, smiling at Castiel.
Meg entered and sat on the chair opposite her uncle. “So uncle, how are your …lessons going?” Meg asked.
“Oh, they are progressing quite well,” Alistair informed her as he took a sip from his brandy. “I have a very apt pupil in this one.” He paused for a moment before sharing a smile with Meg. “I have to thank you, my dear. If it was not for you, I would have continued to think that I had lost him.”
The conversation between Meghan and Alistair seemed odd but Castiel was not even sure what it was that they were talking about. So rather than intrude, Castiel turned back to admire the painting again.
“That is the first ship I ever commanded,” Alistair explained to Castiel coming out from behind his desk to come and stand beside him.
“Oh, it is an extremely beautiful painting,” Castiel offered. Not sure what else to say.
“The HMS Hanover was a beautiful ship,” Alistair explained. “I was her Captain for 15 years.”
“Oh?” Castiel asked a knot forming in his stomach. “How come you gave her up?”
“I was promoted to commodore five years ago and settled here,” Alistair clarified. “I do miss sailing her though. Some of my favorite memories are from when I was aboard her.”
Alistair reminisced with a smile on his face as Castiel finished his brandy. Meghan stood and took Castiel’s hand.
“Good night uncle,” She said before she led Castiel out of the room.
A large amount of cold wet water brought Dean back to painful awareness. He still could not see with the black cloth over his head blotting out the light. It was now also sodden and making it hard to breath.
He had no idea how long he had been there. Dean was not even certain if the others had gotten away although he hoped they had. He had run through the trees hollering and hooting to draw the attention of the soldiers so that Sam could get away.
It had not exactly been a smart diversion, especially since he had run smack dab into the butt of a rifle. But Dean still held out hope that Sam got away.
“Did you miss me, Dean?” asked a voice that was worse than the cold water for the way it jarred against his nerve endings and made his hackles rise.
A hand moved over the bare skin of his hip, almost gentle in its touch. It made Dean’s skin crawl with just how false he knew the touch to be. Alistair was gentle like a shark was a vegetarian.
When he bucked at the touch, the restraints around his wrists dug in more and the chains at his ankles clanked loudly where they dragged against the cobblestone floor. Alistair’s other hand slipped around his throat and Dean was pulled back against the man.
“Now, now love. What did I tell you about flinching?” Alistair asked, his mouth way too close to Dean’s ear for him to do anything but shudder with disgust.
Dean’s breathing turned ragged when Alistair’s hand pressed against his Adam’s apple and the wet cloth over his face made it sound like it was slick. There was probably water in his lungs.
More water was poured over the cloth and Dean could not breathe. The water made the cloth cling to his face and block his nose. Every time Dean gasped for more air, his mouth was filled with water.
When Alistair finally let him go, Dean slumped forward, coughing and choking.
“Now what is that called?” Alistair asked a smile on his face as he pulled the black bag from off Dean’s head.
Dean scowled at the man. But he knew better than to not answer a question especially if it was something he knew the answer to.
“Water… water boarding,” Dean responded, voice rough and still sputtering with the water that had gotten into his lungs. He contemplated letting himself throw up but that would just be worse with the cloth still over his mouth.
Alistair peeled the cloth off of Dean’s face and rested a hand on the nape of Dean’s neck. His thumb brushed across the short hairs at the base of Dean’s skull causing Dean to shiver again.
“That is my boy. You always were my favourite student,” Alistair beamed proudly. He trailed his fingers down Dean’s broad chest. The skin mottled by bruising and blood.
“You have nothing I wish to learn,” Dean snarled, revulsion at the touch making his skin crawl.
“Oh come on Dean. We both know how much you enjoy these lessons,” Alistair chided gently. He smiled and shook his head.
“Well now shall we see what it takes to make you cry today?” Alistair asked before he reached for the first small blade on the table of tools he had set out for today’s lessons.
Castiel barely slept a wink that night. His mind racing with thoughts of the cruel treatment Dean had told him about receiving because of, and at the hands of the captain of the Hanover. The thought of Alistair being that same man was something Castiel was having difficulty reconciling.
The man that Castiel knew as Meghan’s uncle and the governor of Jamaica did not seem capable of such things. But then could he really dismiss the things that Dean and Sam and Jo and Bobby had all told him just because they were pirates.
He lay staring at the ceiling and subconsciously rubbed at the scar across the bridge of his nose. Meghan had told him that it made him look less refined around the edges. Castiel just hated that it made him think about Dean.
By morning Castiel had made up his mind. He would go to Marshallsea and find out if Dean was there. If he was not then it would not make a difference. If he was then he had to tell Sam and the others so they could get him out of there. It made him wonder though, if he was then why had Alistair not mentioned it to him?
At breakfast Castiel had even gone so far as to enquire what Alistair’s plans where for the day. Alistair had explained that he had various meetings with different heads of the community and would be gallivanting from place to place for most of the day.
Castiel had a hundred and one errands of his own with the wedding in three days. But instead Castiel saddled a horse and road straight out to Marshallsea prison.
When he reached the large stone structure the last thing he had actually expected to see was Alistair. The man stepped down out of his carriage and entered the prison before the carriage sped away.
That changed things. If Alistair knew that he was in the prison checking to see if there were any pirates there, then the man would become suspicious. It ruined his plan of doing it quietly to say the least.
Castiel tied up his horse and took a table at the window of the tavern across the street where he could see the big iron gate that marked the entrance to the prison. He figured he could order a stein of ale and wait till Alistair left on his next errand.
At first he figured the man could not be in there too long, but two hours passed and Alistair still had not left the prison. Castiel drummed his fingers on the table and rubbed at the scar on his nose. Something he had started doing in the last two days since it had finally healed.
Castiel sighed and finally made up his mind, the three ales he had drunk steeling his courage enough that he could go and knock on the door. He stood and made his way over to the gates and rung the bell, fidgeting as he waited for the guard to open the door.
“Captain?” The guard frowned at him before looking up and down the street like he was checking to see if there was someone else. The man hobbled slightly, like his leg was bad, as he stepped back and looked at Castiel.
“Governor Carter told me I should come and take a look around the prison. Especially since I plan to capture and send a lot of pirates and other scallywags here,” Castiel told him with a grin. Hopefully, the man would let him in so he could see what it was that Alistair was up too.
The guard frowned. Castiel thought for a minute the man might refuse him but then he moved out of the doorway to let Castiel through into the small cobblestoned courtyard. There was a stable with empty stalls and a prison cart but not much else.
“Sorry sir. The governor is…he did not mention you were coming,” The guard informed him as he relocked the door in the gate and led the way into the prison.
The entrance opened onto a large room with a desk in the center. There was a small cot in one corner and a number of doors led further into the prison. Another man in a grubby sergeant’s uniform sat at the desk. The sergeant did not look up when Castiel entered the room.
Castiel stepped up to the front of the desk. “Sergeant, I would like to see your records; see who you have in here right now,” Castiel ordered. The sergeant did not seem fazed by it and continued to peruse the paperwork in front of him for a moment.
Castiel was aware of what the man was doing. It was a tactic to make him feel uncomfortable and like he was unimportant. But Castiel refused to take the bait. Instead he just stood there patiently; Castiel could wait just as long as he could but he could also pull rank.
“What is your name Sergeant?” Castiel asked in his most authoritative voice.
“Williams sir,” the sergeant replied finally looking up at Castiel. Sergeant Williams sighed and pulled a ledger out from under the papers he had been reading. He waited held the book out for Castiel to take..
The book was a mess. The writing smudged and considering it was supposed to be a ledger, it was barely that. Castiel went over the names. He felt the tension that had twisted in his gut since he entered the place slowly release as he got to the bottom and saw that of the twelve prisoners that were within its walls none of them were listed as pirates.
“It says here that the last prisoner came in a month ago?” Castiel asked, pointing to the last entry, a thief who had been caught stealing in the market. If Dean was here as Sam had said, then he was not recorded in the ledger.
“It has been a slow week,” Williams said, glancing at the other guard and smirking over some kind of privately shared joke.
”Well then I would like to take a look around,” Castiel asked as he tried to refrain from looking on both men with disdain.
The guard sighed and leaned back in his chair, taking a sip from a hip flask he had tucked inside his military jacket. If Castiel were in charge here, the man would be up on charges for even carrying the alcohol. But currently he had not yet been appointed that position so he did not say anything.
Williams glowered at him for a second and then looked back down at his papers. “Thomas, show his lordship around. Just keep him out of the basement,” He ordered to the other guard.
“Why, what is wrong with the basement?” Castiel asked, not wanting to consider just why they would try and keep him out of the basement.
Thomas opened the closest door. “It is flooded. Does that occasionally. We just keep it empty so no one goes down there.”
Castiel raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Thank you.”
The place was basically square in construction. Four long corridors led down along the cells and each corridor met up at the end so that the only way in and out was through the main room in the middle.
The prison was dank and it smelt of a mixture of rotten seaweed, sweat and other things rotten and dank. The whole place was made of cobblestones with iron bars and heavy wooden doors.
A few of the prisoners called out to him but retreated back into the darkness of their cells when Thomas threatened them. It took slightly less than an hour to walk the entire length of the place and look into each cell. Castiel was not sure if he was relieved or disappointed that his search had not uncovered Dean.
“Thank you, Williams,” Castiel offered the sergeant his hand when he got back to the main room.
Williams stood up from behind his desk, shaking his hand happily. “You are welcome sir.”
“No…please!” an anguished scream rang out from deeper inside the prison as some poor prisoner cried out. Williams looked at Thomas and shook his head.
“Do not worry yourself about that sir. We have a few loonies in here right now. They do that sometimes,” Williams offered by way of explanation.
Castiel nodded. His stomach twisting into so many knots he thought he might be sick before he got out of the building. Thomas led him out and Castiel made it to his horse before his bravado faltered.
When Castiel’s nerves and stomach calmed enough he mounted his horse and headed down to the market place.
The Pig in a Poke was crowded when Castiel entered. He moved through crowd and made his way to the bar. Castiel had to yell over the noise of them to be heard over the din. He caught the barkeep’s attention and waved him closer.
“What can I get you sir?” the barman asked, leaning in slightly to be heard.
“I need to speak with the widow Rochester,” Castiel placed three coins on the bar. “It is important.”
The barman eyed the coins and then looked at Castiel for a moment. “She is not here.”
Castiel sighed and emptied the entire contents of his purse on the wood. “Tell her I want to help her brother.”
The barman narrowed his eyes and then pocketed the coins. “Wait here.”
Castiel stood and looked around the room. He did not recognize anyone. He wished he had paid more attention when Dean had introduced him to the crew of the Crimson Prince.
The barman placed a mug of ale in front of him and smiled before heading off to serve others. Castiel just stood there staring at the ale. What if Sam and Bobby did not trust him? They had no reason too. What if they had already left? How could he find them to help Dean?
“Buy me a drink, sailor,” a soft feminine voice whispered at Castiel’s ear as a hand pressed the tip of a dagger to his side. “I will tell you your future.”
Castiel froze. The last thing he needed right now was to be robbed at knife point by some random… “Jo?”
“Are you here alone?” Jo asked as she glanced around the room.
“Yes. I am alone. I want to help Dean,” Castiel explained hoping that she trusted him enough to let him help.
“Put your arm around me, we are going for a walk.” Jo ordered him. Castiel slipped his arms around her waist and breathed a sigh of relief when the knife stopped pressing against him.
They made their way out of the tavern Jo looking around and waiting outside the door to make sure that they were not followed. When she was satisfied she led Castiel down a dark alley way and headed east toward the wharves.
Castiel was pretty sure that he was lost by the time they reach their destination. Jo pressed him against the wall of an alley. Hiding them in the shadow of the building, she turned her head whistled into the darkness.
A few moments later Castiel heard the same whistle back as a reply. Jo took his hand and led Castiel down to the doorway. She knocked what seemed to be a tune on the wood.
When the door opened, Rufus was on the other side pointing a large hand held cannon at them.
“It is okay Rufus. Castiel has decided to help us,” Jo dismissed him. Rufus pointed the cannon up in the air and frowned at Castiel.
“He still smells like an officer of the navy,” Rufus grumbled. “I do not trust him.”
“Oh Rufus, He may at that but he still smells better than you,” Jo chuckled and led Castiel into the kitchen of the small house. Sam and Bobby were sitting at the table, looking over a badly drawn map of the prison.
“We need to get to the ship. We cannot expect them to come get us. Not without putting her in range of the guns,” Bobby explained.
“That is a lot of ground to cover on foot Bobby,” Sam pointed out with a frown.
They both quieted and looked up when Jo entered with Castiel.
“Castiel?” Sam stood from the table and stepped closer a sliver of hope in his voice. “You found him? Did you see him, is he alright?”
Castiel put up his hands at all the quick fire questions and shook his head. “No, I did not see him.”
Sam almost deflated at that, his shoulders slumping and a frown crossing his face.
“Then why are you here boy?” Bobby asked with a stern expression.
“I did not see him, I heard him,” Castiel explained. “They have him in the basement. I was not able to go down there because the guards said it was flooded. But I heard him… he cried out. Alistair was down there with him.”
The room was silent. Everyone knew what Dean crying out indicated. They didn’t need to know the story of what Alistair did to Dean on the Hanover to be worried. Sam was the one that broke the silence first.
“Thank you Castiel. We will get him out,” Sam said, a taut smile on his lips. “Jo take him back to his horse.”
“No. I want to help,” Castiel exclaimed. “I cannot let Dean stay there like that. I know you think because I am in the navy that I am against you but Dean is my friend; more than that. And I want to help get him out of Alistair’s clutches.”
Sam frowned and looked at each of the other pirates in the room.
“Do not look at me,” Rufus quipped. “Although I am happy to shoot him if things go south.”
Sam grinned. “Alright let me show you the plan.”
more booty this way