The Crimson Prince: part V and epilogue
It was a long hard ride across country to Bull bay where the Prince was anchored. It felt weird to be happy to see the ship again but Castiel felt none of the apprehension he had felt the first time he had seen her.
Once they were on the boat Dean slung an arm around Jo and let her lead him to the captain’s cabin while Sam led Castiel up to the ships wheel.
“Castiel, can you steer? We need your help getting underway.” Sam explained as Ash approached them.
“There is no sign of you lot being followed.” Ash informed them. “I have not seen an indication of the alarm being raised in the town either.” Ash pointed to the horizon along the coast and Castiel could just make out the lights of Port Royal in the distance.
Castiel steered the ship as the crew set the sails and weighed anchor. What he really wanted to do was to go and talk to Dean but the man had barely looked at or spoken a word to him since they pulled him out of that hole.
It did not matter though. If Dean had no interest in him in that way Castiel still planned to ask for permission to join the crew. He could not go back to his life before and he certainly could not go back to Meghan.
“We are making for Tortuga,” Sam explained as he came and stood next to Castiel. Castiel turned the wheel slightly adjusting their course to Sam’s new headings. Sam nodded. “We will need to keep this heading till the sun is up.”
Castiel smiled and looked out over the open sea that they were making toward. He still had to talk to Dean but that could wait at least until the doctor had finished seeing to his wounds. There were a few questions though that Castiel figured he could ask Sam.
“Who were those people Dean spoke of?” Castiel asked as he turned his head to regard Sam. Sadness creased Sam’s brow and Castiel thought that perhaps he should not have asked.
“John was my father,” Sam begins explaining. “Before he became a pirate he was a merchant shipman. Owned his own boat and everything.”
“Was Jess your mother?” Castiel asked when Sam had remained silent for a while.
“No, I never knew my mother. She died when I was still an infant,” Sam clarified although he still had not explained who Jess was.
“I spent most of my childhood on the ship with my father. But when I turned 18 I ran away. Found a village I could stay in where no one knew my past,” Sam continued a far off look in his eyes like he was remembering what he was telling Castiel.
“Jessica was a woman that lived in the village. She had the most beautiful smile and she always wore flowers in her hair.” Sam paused rubbing his palm across his eye. He smiled wistfully at Castiel and then stood and walked away across the deck.
“Do not take offense boy,” Bobby s gruff voice sounded behind him. Castiel looked over his shoulder and watched as Bobby approached him.
“It is not you,” Bobby explained. “Alistair and his men made him watch while they burned down the house, with her in it.”
“Oh that is awful.” Castiel felt terrible now for having broached the subject with Sam in the first place. “I am sorry.”
Bobby shrugged and shook his head. “It was not your fault lad. Now though perhaps you will understand why the boys have such a vendetta against your fiancée’s Uncle.”
Castiel nodded he did not understand. How a man like that could get away with being so villainous for such a long time was beyond comprehension. He was certainly going to help the Winchesters to put a stop to Alistair’s tyranny.
Crowley approached them then. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a few splatters of blood on his linen shirt.
“Crowley? What are you doing here?” Castiel asked surprised to see the man on board the ship.
“I am a ship’s surgeon. Why would I not be on a ship sir?” Crowley asked raising an eyebrow.
Bobby chuckled. “He has been here since Alistair found out that he was doing the in and out with his wife.”
Castiel frowned. “Alistair has a wife?” He certainly had not met her or seen any indication of her being there when he had been staying in the man’s house.
“Had,” Crowley says with a wave of his hand. “That was why Alistair showed up that day on the beach. Bastard killed her then came looking for me.“
How is Dean?” Bobby asked.
“His cuts will need to be kept clean and the bandages changed daily but other than that the lad is fit as a fiddle.” Crowley smiled giving Dean a fairly clean bill of health. Once the bruises faded and the cuts healed he would be like new.
“He asked for you,” Crowley informed them nodding in Castiel’s direction.
“Go on lad,” Bobby told him taking the helm from him so that Castiel could make his way back down to the captain’s cabin.
Castiel stopped in the doorway leaning against the frame of the door as he looked uncertainly at Dean. The man lay shirtless on the bed a thick clean bandage wrapped around his chest and down over his stomach.
Dean’s eyes were closed and he seemed to be peacefully sleeping. The palm of his hand rested over the slither of visible skin between the base of the bandages and the top of his breeches.
He contemplated turning around and coming back later but when Castiel turned to leave Dean’s eyes opened.
“Cas?”
Castiel turned back, biting his own bottom lip. He watched as Dean pushed up onto his elbows to watch him.
“I hope you are aware that you had me worried for a while there?” Castiel told him softly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I did? How?” Dean is confused by that.
Castiel walked slowly across the room and sat on the bed beside Dean. Without realizing it, Castiel began to fidget with the buttons on his uniform.
“I thought that I had lost you,” Castiel told him. “I realized that I cannot go through that again.” He took a breath and looked at Dean hopefully. “It looks like you are stuck with me.”
“What about your fiancé?” Dean asked.
“I locked her in a cupboard,” Castiel said with a small smile. “She was not the person that I thought she was.” When Castiel thought about it, he was no longer the person he had thought he was either.
“I am sorry to hear that Cas,” Dean offered.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Dean.” Castiel met Dean’s gaze. “I realized that she is not the person that I want to be with.”
Castiel was not surprised by the frown that crossed Dean’s face. He figured that the best way to do this was to show him what he meant. With a smile, Castiel leaned in closer, cupping Dean’s cheek with one hand before leaning the rest of the way in and pressing his lips softly to Dean’s.
Dean’s lips did not move; his eyes wide as he blinked and stared at Castiel. It occurred to Castiel that perhaps he was mistaken that Dean wanted him too. Maybe he had once, but after their discussion on the ship Castiel had obviously blown his chance.
Castiel sat back, lowering his eyes and looking away. If Dean decided that he did not want him on his ship then he could go ashore when they reached Tortuga. Perhaps he could find another ship and make his way back to England.
“Cas,” Dean grumbled, as he shifted and threw his arms around Castiel. He rolled the two of them, pulling Castiel onto the bed until he had him spread out on his back. Then, Dean moved on top of him, pressing him down into the mattress as he kissed him.
Castiel gasped as Dean crashed their lips together. Surprised by the force of it, Castiel was not turning away this time. He wanted this. Wanted the feel of Dean pressed against him. To feel the other man’s body warmth seep into him and it made Castiel gasp as he met the kiss with his own.
Dean’s fingers slid into Castiel’s hair. Fingertips rough across his scalp till the fingers curled into the hair at the base of Castiel’s skull. His tongue brushed insistently across Castiel’s lips. All Castiel could do was tilt his head back slightly into the touch and open to the pirate.
Castiel wanted to taste Dean just as much as Dean wanted to taste him. The curl of Dean’s tongue as it flicked into his mouth made Castiel shiver. Dean plundered his mouth in the most delicious ways and it felt incredible. Dean sucked at his tongue and Castiel closed his eyes giving himself over entirely to Dean’s mercy.
Cas moved his arms around Dean, digging his fingers into Dean's shoulder blades. The intensity between them made him dizzy. He never thought it was even possible to feel such heat so strongly.
A moan made its way out of Dean’s throat and it sent shiver’s up and down Castiel’s spine to know that Dean was enjoying this as much as he was. Dean nipped at his lip and pulled his hair hard enough to make his head tilt back.
Dean kissed, licked and sucked down over his chin and across his throat and Castiel just held on. Held onto Dean as his teeth nipped their way down Castiel’s throat and Castiel groaned at how incredible it felt.
Dean continued kissing lower until he found the place on Castiel’s throat where his pulse raced under his skin. He sucked on it softly, trailing his tongue over it as he did so. It made Castiel’s insides twist with heat and need and God how could he even have thought that being with Meg would make him feel like this?
The weight of Dean pressed against him shifted as the other man rolled his hips against his own. It surprised Castiel not only with the presence of Dean’s arousal pressed against his hip, but the fact that his own manhood was also obviously aroused and pressing right back.
Castiel pushed back against him, rolling his own hips experimentally, gasping at the way the friction of movement and pressure sent little sparks of delight coursing through him.
It was Castiel’s turn to shift. His knees fell open and welcomed the weight as Dean’s hips fit against his inner thighs like a missing piece to a puzzle. Each roll of Dean’s hips against his made the heat between them flare and writhe like it is a living thing.
With their arms wrapped around each other, the two of them moved together. Their hips rolling together as Dean pressed open mouthed kisses across Castiel’s throat. Each thrust making Castiel gasp and shiver with pleasure.
Heat and sensation tingled through every fiber of his being and Castiel could not even comprehend how he had not known that being with the right person could be so intense. So good that it made his breath catch in his chest and his heart beat so fast he was dizzy.
“Dean!” Castiel gasped out. Dean moaned against his jaw in reply. Dean’s breath was hot against his skin and Castiel arched against him. Heat spiralled and twisted inside him until Castiel felt like he would drown in the overwhelming sensation.
“Cas,” Dean breathed out, hot against Castiel’s ear and it sent sparks all over Castiel’s body. Castiel’s insides twisted tight before it broke free. Like floating and falling among a billion stars.
Dean’s hips rocked against his own and then Dean was kissing him. They swallowed each other’s moans as they rode the edge of bliss and tumble through it together.
Dean’s tongue and open mouth tasted even better than his lips had and it gave Castiel chills. He knew what he wanted to do now. He wanted to taste all of Dean, to move his lips and tongue over every part of Dean’s skin until he was the one doing the conquering.
Dean leaned back then; placing his palms against the mattress on either side of Castiel’s shoulders so that he was arm’s length from him. Dean tilted his head to the side slightly, as if contemplating something before he smiled softly at Castiel.
“So tell me Castiel. What am I going to do with you?” Dean asked, as he studied Castiel’s face. “I suppose we could put you ashore in Tortuga. If that is what you wanted.”
Castiel growled and rolled the two of them so that he was the one on top of Dean. Straddling his hips before sitting back to look down at him. Castiel trailed his fingers along the line of Dean’s collarbones as he smiled.
“What I want,” Castiel stated, leaning forward to press his brow against Dean’s and gazing into those beautiful moss green eyes, “Is to be with you Dean.”
Dean smiled, leaning in slowly until his lips brushed across Castiel’s. It caused Castiel’s heart to skip a beat and his breath to catch in his chest. Dean smirked, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. “Took you long enough.”
A pounding on the door put an end to anything that could be said between them.
Dean groaned as he looked from Castiel to the door.
“What is it?” Dean yelled out.
Sam opened the door a dark look on his face. “Adam spotted a sail. It is gaining on us.”
Castiel stood and went to the bureau that Dean had pulled a shirt from before. He pulled a crimson shirt out and handed it to Dean who was pulling his boots on. Dean smiled, his hand closing over Castiel’s as he took the shirt.
“We will talk after this, okay,” Dean does not phrase it like it is a question. Castiel nodded, hoping that it would be the case.
Castiel watched as Dean stood, pulling the shirt on over his head in the same motion. Dean made his way across the room grabbing a sword and scabbard that hung from the wall and slinging it over his chest.
Dean then reached into a large chest and pulled Castiel’s sword from it. The one he had been given with his Captain’s commission and assumed lost when he was kidnapped.
“This is yours I believe,” Dean said with one of his disarming grins as he held the sword out for Castiel to take.
“You kept this for me?” Castiel asked returning the smile as he took the sword and fastened the belt around his waist.
Dean just shrugged, his smirk larger than ever as he turned to make his way out onto the deck. Sam and Castiel followed him as they made their way up onto the quarterdeck and over to the gunwale to look out across the waves and back toward Port Royal.
“It is the Celeste,” Castiel told them. Her lines were as unmistakable to him as those of the Crimson prince were to Dean.
“It is Alistair,” Dean stated. Sam frowned and Castiel tried to ignore the slight tinge of fear he thought he heard in Dean’s voice.
“How can you be certain?” Sam asked looking out across the waves. There was nothing to indicate that Alistair was actually on the ship.
Dean just levelled a scowl at Sam. “I do not need to be certain. I know.”
With that Dean turned and moved to look across the main deck. “All hands, I want us at full sail now. We are going to out run the son of a bitch.”
The ship came alive with activity as the crew followed their Captain’s orders. Castiel just stayed at the railing and watched as the Celeste drew ever closer. Once the sails were unfurled, Dean came back to stand at the railing with Castiel.
“They are using the same head wind. The Celeste is gaining on us.” Castiel felt crestfallen.
Dean scowled, clenching his hands into fists. He turned and looked across the deck. Looking at his friends and family; weighing his options.
“We have to stand and fight. We have to end this,” Dean declared. He glanced sidelong at Castiel. His face set with determination before he called out, “Sam, all hands. Battle stations!”
Sam turned, staring with such intensity at Dean it was as though he was capable of seeing what the other man was thinking. The look of concern on Sam’s face fell away as it was replaced by a dimpled grin.
“Aye, Aye Captain.” Sam turned, leaning across the gunwale and hollered down to the men on the main deck. “All hands. Battle stations!”
Castiel was not sure about this being a good idea. “Are you certain Dean? They have twice the guns and twice the crew.” Castiel knew they had to do something. If the Celeste got them within firing range it could easily turn into a blood bath.
“We cannot outrun her. We just need to sure that we do more damage to her than she can do to us.” Dean grinned. It was that cock-sure grin that had always meant trouble when they had been children.
“What are you thinking lad?” Bobby asked, pushing the peak of his hat further back and wiping his brow.
Dean moved to the railing to stand by Sam and looked out over the deck where the crew stood, “I say we stand and fight. No more running. We end this right now.” Dean glanced at Castiel and Sam before he looked out over the men again. “What do you say lads? Are you with me?”
“Aye Captain!” the men chorused. There was a good chance that turning to face the Celeste would mean death but the men supported their captain and Castiel was impressed to see such loyalty among cutthroats.
“Have the guns loaded on the starboard side,” Dean ordered. Then he turned and moved to stand next to the where Bobby was still steering the ship.
“Load the starboard guns,” Sam echoed the order and the men began setting to their tasks. The commotion on the ship changed and Castiel could hear the men below decks as they moved the cannons into place.
“Cannons loaded and in position, sir,” Rufus called out from the gun deck. Sam turned and relayed the order to the Captain.
Dean grinned and nodded at Sam then he turned to look at Bobby. “Bring us about, Mr Singer. “
“Aye, ye mad bastard.” Bobby said with a grin. His hands moving with the wheel as he turned it. The ship listed slightly before it turned on a starboard tack to turn back to face the Celeste.
Castiel stayed beside Dean watching as the Crimson Prince cut across the Celeste’s path. He could see the men in the rigging of the other ship as they scramble back toward the deck of the Celeste as she began to change tack too.
Watching as the larboard gun ports opened on the Celeste was a little terrifying. Every one of her forty larboard cannon’s came into sight. Dean’s hand slid into Castiel’s causing him to glance at their entwined fingers.
“You and me against the world,” Dean grinned as Castiel looked up at him. “Right Cas?”
Castiel grinned and nodded. “You and I, Dean.”
The Crimson Prince being the smaller of the two boats, they had their guns facing the Celeste before the other ship was fully in position. It was the only advantage that they had.
“Fire the cannons!” Dean shouted the order out across the deck.
“Fire the cannons!” Sam echoed the order from the main deck and it was followed by the thunderous roar of twenty cannons being fired almost simultaneously.
Everyone on the quarterdeck of the Crimson Prince watched with baited breath as the barrage sailed across the stretch of water that separate the two boats before they came crashing down against the Celeste.
The sound of men screaming could be heard from the Celeste and one of the main sails seemed to be damaged but, from the look of her, they had failed to deliver any damage that would cripple them.
When the Celeste fired her cannons she was still on a slight angle which meant that a number of the shot’s landed in the water between them with a loud sploshing sound. Few shots however found their mark, shattering into the side of the ship and one of them tearing through the topgallant of the mizzenmast.
The yard arm came crashing down, dragging rigging and sail with it. It crashed against the quarterdeck, sending Dean and Castiel sprawling in different directions. There were men injured on the main deck where splintered wood and debris had been thrown up with each shot’s impact.
Castiel moved down to where a younger lad lay on his back, glassy eyes staring up at nothing. When Castiel put a hand on his shoulder, the lad sputtered blood up into the air and gasped. It took a second for Castiel to place the name of the lad. “Adam? Can you hear me?”
Adam’s eyes focused on Castiel’s, his hand coming up to twist in Castiel’s shirt. ”It hurts.” Adam’s whimper was barely audible and blood frothed at the corners of his mouth. It was the only sign that the lad was injured at all.
“Come on, we can get him below and to the Doc,” Rufus said, suddenly beside him. The two of them lifted Adam up carrying him below deck while the sound of Dean ordering the cannons to fire again rang out above them.
Crowley was mid-deck. He stood beside a table working on a screaming man being held down on its surface. His apron, face and arms up to his elbows were drenched in blood as he worked.
“We have another one for you Doc,” Rufus said by way of greeting and Crowley just growled pointing to an empty hammock hanging to the side. Rufus and Castiel lay Adam in the hammock as instructed. Adam tightened his grip on Castiel’s shirt.
“Sir… take this.” More blood bubbled from Adam’s lips and ran down his cheeks as he spoke. Adam pulled a pistol from his belt and pressed the pistol into Castiel’s hand. “S’loaded.”
“Thank you,” Castiel responded taking the pistol as Adam’s eyes slipped closed. His breathing was shallow but he was still alive.
“We need to get back,” Rufus informed him as he reached over and untangled Adam’s hand from Castiel’s shirt.
Castiel stepped back on deck to the cacophonies of battle, clashing swords, shouts, and the cries of the dying. Rufus shot from his side and vanished into the din, leaving Castiel alone to search the crowd, desperately searching for any sign of Dean.
A Marine, blood staining his red coat, staggered out of the fray and tried to impale Castiel with the bayonet affixed firmly to the end of his musket. Castiel raised his sword to block the blow by reflex more than plan and fired point blank into the man’s chest with the pistol Adam had just given him.
The Marine clutched at the spreading crimson stain at his chest and crumpled to the deck that was already awash with the blood of the injured and dying. Now out of ammo, Castiel flipped the pistol in his hand to form a crude cudgel and shouldered his way into the chaotic press of struggling bodies. He glanced down at each body he stepped over…just in case, before pressing on.
“Dean!” he yelled, hoping to be heard over the din. The minutes it took him to reach the gore streaked plank of the last place he had seen Dean, felt like an eternity of madness. But once he was there he found what he sought: Dean, alive, on the quarter deck of the Celeste.
His brief surge of gratitude was quickly gutted by what he saw. Dean was alive, but he was obviously still weak from his time in captivity, and he was squaring off against an Alistair who looked both well-rested and enraged. In most men, that fury could be considered a handicap that any canny opponent could exploit. Castiel had no doubts about how canny Dean was, but Alistair had never been like most men and fear gripped Castiel’s belly at what could happen in the next few minutes.
Dean’s tight smile was as dangerous as the flashing edge of his sword, and he was speaking but Castiel could not make out the words. Whatever he said increased the flush on Alistair’s face and Castiel redoubled his efforts, he had to reach the deck of the Celeste. He did not dare shout out for Dean again in case he should distract him.
The two enemies circled each other slowly, swords clashing in little flurries of movement as they tested each other’s defenses and skill. Castiel couldn’t see clearly which of them was the better swordsman, but he hoped in his heart that it was Dean.
“I knew you could not stay away from me, Dean,” Alistair all but purred. His grin feral like that of a cat about to pounce on its prey was enough to make Castiel’s skin crawl. He hated to think what it was doing to Dean’s confidence.
“I think you have that the wrong way around Alistair,” Dean retorted. Stepping to his left and keeping his sword pointed directly between Alistair’s eyes. “You are the one who cannot stay away from me.”
Castiel watched as Alistair lunged, his sword clanging against Dean’s and forcing it aside as Alistair slashed out with the dagger he wielded in his left hand. It nicked across Dean’s chest, blood staining his shirt before Dean could push Alistair away and regain his footing.
“You are so pretty when you bleed,” Alistair crowed, his eyes darkening as he all but leered at Dean. “But even more so when you cry.”
“I am not a frightened child anymore,” Dean yelled, his voice not as sure sounding as his words. “And I am no longer afraid of you.”
“You will be mine again,” Alistair purred through gritted teeth as their swords clashed together.
“No!” Dean hissed as he stepped to the side blocking the angry blow of Alistair’s sword and trying to find an opening in the other man’s defences.
It seemed to Castiel that Alistair was managing to gain the upper hand. Blow after blow, again and again getting so close. Dean’s defences faltered with the force of the cruel man’s taunts. Castiel could not watch but he could not look away either.
Alistair snarled again, reigning blow after blow down against Dean’s defences. Alistair seemed so sure of his victory that he let his own defence drop. Dean saw the opening though and took it, knocking Alistair’s sword aside as he slashed across the opening.
The two of them separated, moving out of harm’s reach as Dean raised his chin in defiance. Both men were gasping from the exertion of their battle and seemed fine to allow the other to catch his breath.
Both Castiel and Dean watched as Alistair raised his hand and ran his fingers over the smear of crimson across his jaw. Alistair’s eyes flickered from watching Dean intently, to his fingers and back again. Then he raised his fingers to his lips and sucked the blood from the tips of them.
Alistair glanced in Castiel’s direction then, the cruel smile on his face taking on an even more vicious curve. Dean could not risk a glance at Castiel, but it was obvious that he knew that Castiel was there.
“Did Dean tell you all the delicious things we did together?” Alistair asked, a fake sweetness coloring his voice. “Has he shown you how good he is at using that sweet little mouth of h…”
Dean surged forward cutting off Alistair’s sentence before the man could finish his taunt. Swords clashed as the two men came together. Dean was relentless in his attack but Alistair seemed to anticipate each move parrying each blow even as he gave ground.
Alistair caught Dean’s sword on his own, the two of them clashing together as Dean surged forward. He grabbed Alistair’s wrist, holding the dagger out of harm’s way as their swords became trapped between their bodies.
“Once you are dead, you will never touch me again,” Dean spat, twisting at Alistair’s wrist and forcing the man to drop the dagger. But Castiel could see from where he stood that Dean’s already taxed strength was flagging.
“Have to kill me first, Winchester,” Alistair twisted then, his wrist breaking free from Dean’s grip. Castiel could only watch in horror as Alistair slammed the pommel of his sword into Dean’s jaw and sent Dean and his sword sprawling in separate directions.
Castiel moved then, running toward the fallen figure as Alistair raised his sword obviously intent on impaling Dean to the deck with his next thrust. There was a mad intentness to the look on Alistair’s face. It was made all the more frightening by the sinister grin on Alistair’s lips.
“Dean!” Sam was there too, watching the fight through the gunwale from the main deck. He slid his sword across the deck where it connected with Dean’s outstretched hand. Castiel’s sword moved between them, deflecting Alistair’s sword so the tip of it buried itself in the wood of the deck by Dean’s shoulder. Dean grabbed Sam’s sword, thrusting it upward and pierced Alistair’s heart.
Dean scrambled to his feet, a hand resting on Castiel’s shoulder as the two of them watched Alistair fall backwards onto his ass on the deck. Sam reached them too. The three of them stood together as Alistair stared up at them.
“So beautiful,” Alistair whispered, blood flecking his lips as he spoke. Then Alistair collapsed to the deck dead.
“It is over,” Dean stated, almost as if he was not sure that it was.
“Not yet it is not,” Sam grabbed Alistair’s sword and moved to the watch bell, clanging it loudly. “Your captain is dead!” Sam called loudly raising Alistair’s sword over his head. “Surrender now and we will give you quarter!”
A murmur spread across both ships that turned into a cheer and the clatter of swords and other weapons being dropped to the deck as the men of the Celeste surrendered.
Castiel had spent the morning getting the ship underway. They had left port with the dawn tide and the land of Hispaniola was a dark smudge on the receding horizon.
It was mid-morning by the time he reentered the Captain’s cabin so he had not expected to find the captain still lying in bed wearing nothing but his breeches. Castiel closed the door behind him and approached the bed sliding in next to Dean and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
“Bobby has us on a northwest heading,” Castiel whispered, pressing close to Dean and pressing more kisses across his shoulder. He worked his way up until he was nuzzling in against Dean’s neck. Dean smiled but did not look up from the papers he had spread on the pillow.
“What is it that has you so distracted that it is the middle of the day and you are not even dressed?” Castiel asked with a smirk. He nipped at Dean’s ear but resisted the urge to read over the other man’s shoulder.
“Sam wrote me a letter. It was delivered yesterday but I did not have time to read it until today,” Dean explains as he turned his head and smiled at Castiel. He leaned in, bumping him with his shoulder before he held one of the papers out. “Here, see for yourself, you read what he has to say. It was addressed to you too.”
Castiel took the letter and shifted, rolling onto his back and tucking an arm behind his head as he held up the letter and began to read. While he did, Dean tugged up his shirt pushing the material out of the way to reveal Castiel’s stomach before he leaned in to press kisses across the exposed skin.
Dearest Brother
I hope my letter finds you as happy as you were when we last parted. Since Castiel came on board I do not recall ever having seen you smile so much as when he is by your side.
As for myself I cannot be happier. Jo and I have booked passage to Virginia, where we plan to purchase land with our share of what we made from selling the Celeste. Jo has advised me that since we made such a tidy profit by selling the cannons, tack and other sundries separately, we shall have plenty left over for a wedding.
I am sure you are just as surprised to hear that Jo and I are an item as I was. But we are very happy together. We intend to be married on the first day of spring. And as soon as we have settled I will send word of our location so that you and Castiel can come stay with us. Perhaps by the time you arrive you will even have a nephew or niece to tell your pirating adventures too.
I know it must have come as a surprise to you that I no longer wish to sail either with you or under my own banner. But, as you should well be aware it was always my intention to settle down and start a family of my own.
You were always the one who was the pirate.
I sincerely hope that you do not feel too slighted by my decision and I wish you the best of happiness in your own life
and endeavors. Know that if you ever wish to quit your life at sea that there will always be a place for you and Castiel in my home.
I have included in this letter an item that father gave me before his death. Since I am already wealthy and I have no need of such things, I am bequeathing it to you and look forward to hearing of your adventures in the near future.
Your loving Brother
Samuel
“It would appear that Jo has made a decent man out of your brother,” Castiel said with a modicum of surprise. He had not even been aware that the two were fond of each other.
“I always knew Jo preferred girls,” Dean chuckled against the curve of one of Castiel’s ribs. It tickled the way the words vibrated across his skin
“Would you like to see what he sent us?” Dean asked, resting his chin on Castiel’s sternum as he looked up to meet his gaze.
“You mean other than the letter to tell us their doing well,” Castiel asked with a smirk.
“Oh you are hilarious,” Dean stated with a roll of his eyes. He sat up and pulled another piece of paper from the pile on his pillow. Then Dean slapped it down hard on Castiel’s chest.
Castiel winced then laughed, grabbing Dean by the wrist as he grabbed the piece of paper from his chest with his other hand. Using his hold on Dean’s wrist, he pulled the other man down closer and kissed him before letting him go and turning his attention to the piece of paper.
It was old and yellowed, creased from where it had been folded. He held it up, the lines and ink on the paper showed it was clearly a map pointing to some kind of hidden treasure. He frowned as he realized that it was part of something larger, one edge clearly torn.
“Half a map?” Castiel questioned because clearly that was what it was. But perhaps he was missing something.
“Yes you noticed,” Dean said with a smirk as he climbed off the bed. Castiel frowned with frustration because obviously Dean was in the mood to tease this out. Castiel studied the map again. There are no discernable land marks or coast line. The missing part of the map obviously contained the instructions for how to get to the location marked on this part of the map.
Did I ever tell you about John Winchester, the most daring pirate to ever sail the Spanish Main?” Dean asked as he slid out of the bed and made his way over to his desk. Castiel had heard of the man who had taken Dean in, but he only knew the stories of him being a blood thirsty pirate that were told in England.
“John sailed the Spanish Main for over twenty years. Before Alistair revoked his letter of mark, John had captured over ten Spanish galleons laden with treasure and bound for Spain,” Dean explained as he pulled the drawer out of the desk. Castiel rested his head on his hand as listened to Dean’s tale.
“Some say it was more than that.” While he talked, Dean turned the drawer upside down and emptied the contents onto the top of the desk. “During his time as a pirate he attacked and plundered over a hundred ships bound for Jamaica.”
“Some say a pirate like that would have a treasure horde to rival the riches of the kings of England,” Dean told him with a smile, turning the drawer over so that Castiel could see the bottom of it. “That perhaps such a pirate would have a map to the treasure’s whereabouts.”
It was then Castiel noticed the small slip of paper. It is the same aged yellow color as the map that Castiel had in his hands. Dean pulled it free from its hiding place and dumped the drawer on top of its contents on the desk and held the paper up, dangling it between two fingers for Castiel to see.
“It just so happens that I have the other half,” Dean told him with a smirk.
The end