FIC: A Peculiar Thing (A Midsummer Night's Dream) Part 2

[darkboudicca]

See Part 1 for summary and warnings

Part 2


Evening had fallen with no change in either Castiel or Sam. Dean had tried tuning out Sam and Cas' nauseating conversation, but when that failed, he was forced to resort to listening to music on Sam's iPod to drown the two of them out, while Bobby hit the books.

In the meantime, Dean paced up and down Bobby's study, buds in his ears, studiously ignoring the glares both Sam and Cas were shooting his way between staring longingly at each other.

This mess had ceased being amusing ever since he had woken up that morning and found Cas' handprint scar slowly vanishing from his shoulder one damn finger at a time, and to top it all off  Sam had caught whatever love bug had affected Cas.

It was one thing for Cas to pine in his own socially awkward way for Sasquatch-it was another thing altogether for Sam to start returning those feelings.

Dean refused to admit that the most worrying part of this weird-ass affair was the threat of the handprint disappearing completely.

"Will you quit your pacing, you’re going to wear a hole in my carpet and I just had it replaced," Bobby demanded from behind his desk.

"Huh?" Dean plucked a bud from his ear and stared at Bobby.

"Sit down," Bobby ordered, "And quit your infernal pacing."

"Fine." Dean walked over to the nearest armchair and plunked himself down.

"Dammit, Bobby," Dean pinched his brows together. "We’ve tried every single spell reversal, counterspell, and cleansing ritual in every one of your books and nothing’s working."

"Don’t you think I know that?" Bobby deliberately lowered his voice, "I'm just as concerned as you are, but wearing away my carpet isn't going to help anything."

Dean nodded as if to say, 'fine, you win.'

Bobby sighed, tossed aside the book he had been reading through and pulled open another tome.

Since pacing was out of the question, and he sure as hell had no desire to be drunk right now, Dean opted for tapping his foot. When Bobby looked like he was winding up for another, you’re-irritating-me-idjit speech, Dean pre-empted him by pushing himself out of the chair with an aggrieved, "I’m going to work on the Impala. Come get me if you find anything."

***

Dean had gone over every inch of the Impala, and washed and waxed her before he heard Bobby yelling for him to come back to the house.

"Finally," he said, and tossed aside the rag he'd been using.

Dean loped across the yard and barreled into the study, "What’d you find?"

Bobby was assembling materials in a bowl on his desk and barely looked up at Dean, "Well, we haven't had any luck reversing whatever this is, so I figured instead of working the 'what' angle, I’d try getting at the 'who.' Love spells are tricky at the best of the times, and it takes no time at all for them to turn ugly. But whatever this is has left no trace of itself. If we wanna break this spell or whatever, we're going to have to get it from the source."

Dean nodded, "Then we're gonna be summoning a spirit because we ganked that coven of witches."

"Yes, but I don't think they had the juice to pull something like this off. I came across something in the books that said angels aren’t usually susceptible to love spells unless it comes from a Cupid."

"You've got to be kidding me! You're telling me some diaper-wearing douche did this to Cas and Sam? Why??

"Don't know yet. You can ask him when he gets here." Bobby tossed Dean a notepad, "Get started drawing those markings. If the book is right, this ritual will summon the culprit and bind him here."

Dean looked over the markings and got to work. The symbols were intricate and plentiful, and his back ached by the time he finished marking up Bobby's study.

***

"That's the last of the symbols," Dean said as he climbed down from the ladder. He folded it and stuck it in a corner out of the way. "What now?"

"Now we need the blood of all the affected parties," Bobby lifted Cas' angel blade and waved it at Dean. "The book specifically said it must be spilled by an angel blade…you wanna do the honors?"

"Uh, what about the ring of holy fire?"

Bobby picked up an ancient looking tome and flipped it open to a bookmarked page, "It took me a while to track this down. It's the Book of Enoch, I thought it might come in handy, what with the new mythology and all."

Bobby cleared his throat and read, "And God commanded that those who laid with the daughters of men and all their issue should be assembled and burned. And it was carried out. The angels corralled--" Dean rolled his eyes.

"Now's not the time for a theological lesson, Bobby. Get to the point."

Bobby glared at Dean and closed the book gently, "If you'd let me finish reading the passage, you'd know that one human witness to those events crossed the line of holy fire to rescue someone. His name was Abel, and he was a Righteous Man."

"So you're saying I should be able to cross the line without being deep fried extra-crispy?"

"Sure seems that way."

Dean picked up the angel blade and another bowl and walked up to the ring of fire. He could feel the heat the ambient heat pressing at his skin. "How 'bout it Cas? Can I cross without being harmed?"

Castiel puckered his lips and looked away.

"Guess that's a yes, then."

"Dean are you nuts?" Sam yelled.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and stepped through the flames, fully expecting to feel his skin melt of his body. He opened one eye when he made it through and checked himself over. No melted flesh, hell his clothes weren't even singed.

"Jesus, Dean, you could have seriously hurt yourself," Sam said.

"I'm okay. I'm really okay," Dean said, his voice filled with wonder.

He approached Sam first, who backed up as far as he could go in the circle without setting himself on fire. "Dean, let's talk about this. Now, there's nothing wrong with. We're not hurting anyone--"

"I’m sorry, Sammy, but it's for the best."

Dean grabbed Sam's arm and quickly sliced a cut that bled freely.

"Will you hold still," Dean ordered as he struggled to get the blood into the bowl.

"It's alright, Samuel," Castiel said, his voice eerily calm, "This ritual won't work, because we're not spelled, and this will all be for naught. They'll see, then they'll have to respect how we feel."

Sam quit his struggling, allowing Dean to finish collecting his blood.

"Cas is right. You'll know our love is real."

"Keep telling yourselves that," Dean said.

Once he’d gathered enough blood he bandaged up Sam’s arm and made his way over to Cas.

Cas, despite his lack of physical resistance, was even more pissed than Sam, and had his smiting glare going on full blast. Dean knew for sure that if it weren't for the circle of holy fire, he'd probably be a pile of ashes right now, or tossed back into Hell. That thought more than anything else convinced Dean of the rightness of his actions. Heaven's-bitch Cas might've made good on that threat, but not the angel who had bled, died, fallen, and killed for him. Not the Cas who had given up Heaven and all it meant to throw his lot in with a bunch of broken humans-with him. That Cas wouldn’t smite him back to Hell, no matter what.

Dean schooled his features and got to work. But unlike with Sam, he met the full brunt of Cas' furious stare with his own determined gaze.

Cas quietly rolled up his sleeve and presented his arm to Dean, who sliced a quick, clean cut and held the bowl up to catch his blood.

When he was finished, Dean dressed the cut with more care than he had taken with Sam, even though he knew Cas would heal himself in a flash. He let his fingers graze Cas' skin as he wrapped the bandage. Dean usually reined in his impulses to touch Cas, though his hands often itched with a desire to caress, grasp, embrace.

Too often he let him self settle for a friendly pat on the shoulder when his urge couldn't be contained, or a sideways hugs. Touches that were all too brief, and yet contained dangerous possibilities.

"Dude, you're taking way too much time with that," Sam said.

Dean ignored his brother.

Very quietly, so quietly that not even his brother or Bobby would hear, Dean murmured, "Everything's going to be back to normal soon, Cas, you'll see. And we'll laugh about this like we did that night at the brothel."

Castiel huffed softy.

Task accomplished, Dean rose and walked out of the circle, over to Bobby’s desk where he plunked the bowl down.

Bobby met and held Dean’s gaze.

Dean nodded once as if to say, 'Do it.'

"Alright then, let's do this thing."

Dean ranged off to the side, angel blade held firmly in his hand, body loose and ready for anything. Bobby uttered a long incantation that sounded like gibberish to Dean’s ears, but which he was pretty sure contained some Enochian. When he got to the end, Bobby dropped a match into the bowl and the contents ignited in a flash of purple smoke.

A haze filled the room quickly. “Bobby?!” Dean called, covering his mouth and nose with his shirt.

"This should pass soon," Bobby called back.

Strangely, the smoke didn’t burn his eyes. It quickly collected in the middle of the room and then dissipated, leaving none other than the archangel Gabriel, naked and in the middle of Bobby's study.

"You sonuvabitch!” Dean snarled and advanced on the angel.

"Hoo boy," Gabriel said. "Didn't see that one coming."

***

"So you're a Cupid now, too?" Dean tossed a blanket at Gabriel, barely suppressing the urge to punch the dick in his smug face.

Gabriel wrapped the blanket around himself toga-style, "Uh, no, genius. Merely brandishing the tools of a Cupid."

Dean steamrollered ahead, "So why pull this dickish stunt, huh? Thought you'd irritate me into saying 'yes' to Michael."

"Deano, I'm hurt you think so little of me," Gabriel strolled to edge of the trap he was standing under and poked his finger outward. He immediately snapped his hand back as if burned.

Dean glanced up at the sigils he'd drawn on the ceiling. The backache was totally worth it, to see the look on Gabriel's face.

Gabriel looked at Bobby, "I'm impressed. You must be the reason these two have made it this long."

Bobby rolled his eyes, "Why'd you pull this stunt on them?"

Gabriel shrugged, “Hello, Trickster!”

"Yeah, right. This is a far cry from your usual stunts," Dean said.

"What can I say, Deano, Christmas came early for me this year."

"You know what? I don't care what angle you're working right now, put them back the way they were. Now!"

"Uh-uh, no can do," Gabriel tutted, "that's not the way this works. A Cupid's mojo isn't like some bargain basement bit of witchcraft. Once it takes hold there's no way to stop it."

"He's lying," Castiel shouted, "You couldn't spell me without my sensing it."

"Well, ordinarily, yes," Gabriel admitted, "But you were distracted at the time--collateral damage, I swear!"

Incensed, Castiel turned to Sam, "What I feel for you is real. My love is as true as steel."

Sam patted Castiel on his arm, "I know Cas, me too."

Sam's words spurred Dean to action. He marched right up to the edge of Gabriel's trap, "You fix it now, or I swear on your deadbeat dad I'll run you through with this myself." Dean raised the angel sword and waved it in front of Gabriel's nose.

"Please, that thing? Even if you had the juice, it would take an archangel blade to kill me," Gabriel turned his head to look at Cas, "And he's still just the-little-seraph-that-could."

"Maybe, maybe not. But I've beat you before, I'll figure something out eventually. In the meantime you'd be stuck here for a good long while. Who knows, maybe I'll give you your very own circle of holy oil to play in."

"You make him burn my rug and I'll take it out of your hide," Bobby threatened.

Gabriel considered their threats, "Uh, well, when you put it like that. There's only one way to remove a Cupid's mark from someone. You're not going to like it."

"What is it?"

"If someone loves against their natural inclinations ,all it takes is a declaration of love, heartfelt and absolutely true to remove it. But the catch is, the declaration has to fulfill the love they truly crave from another being. You up for that, Deano?"

Dean held Gabriel’s gaze, assessing the angel's intentions. Satisfied with what he saw, Dean squared his shoulders and said, "What do I have to do?"

"Goody, let's start with the Jolly Green Giant, shall we?"

"Wait a minute, Dean," Bobby grabbed Dean’s arm. "How do we know we can trust him to actually remove the mark, what if it's just another one of his tricks?"

Dean looked first at Gabriel and then at Bobby, "It’s not about trusting him, Bobby, and besides we're fresh out of options. I can take a hit with the chick flick moment if it means saving Sam and Cas from a lifetime of that," he said, gesturing at Sam and Cas hugging each other tight.

Bobby released Dean’s arm and backed up his chair, his glare firmly fixed on the archangel, "You try anything…"

"Yes, circle of holy oil and a lifetime of atonement for your new rug. Got it!"

Gabriel continued, "Can get a piece of paper and pen. And maybe you could turn up the heat in here, it's kind of chilly."

Bobby tossed a pen and pad of paper, and made no move to do anything about the heat.

Gabriel sketched a sigil onto a piece of paper and showed it to Dean, "Cut this mark into both your palms and hold them against Sammy's temples-use Cas' blade to do it."

Dean gritted his teeth and did as instructed. Finished, he stepped across the flames once more and pressed his palms against Sam’s temples.

"Why his head, why not his heart?"

Gabriel sucked his teeth, "Humans-the heart's just a hunk of muscle, Deano. Love begins and ends in the mind."

"Guess you have a point there," Sam said.

Gabriel stared intently at Sam, "Okay, I've got him figured out. Wow, Sammy, you're a man of simple tastes, I like it. Dean, the kind of love your brother craves more than anything else is one where he's loved for himself alone. Not because he can kill demons with his mind or because he's got some special destiny. All Sam wants is to know that someone loves him for him, not because circumstance or birth forced them together."

Dean sucked in a shuddery breath, "What do I say?"

"Hey, it's not me you have to convince."

Dean gripped his brother's temples tight and started talking. He had no idea what he meant to say until he heard the words coming out of his mouth, "I remember when mom and dad first brought you home and I got to hold you. You were so tiny, man, I thought I was gonna drop you on your head, or something. But mom, she just held my arms around you and said, 'this is your brother.' You had a wicked strong grip for such a little guy, though. You grabbed my finger and you wouldn't let go, and I just stared at you. And I knew that I would love you my whole life. Sammy…Sam…Sam, I don't know what to say, man. But you gotta believe me."

Dean felt a searing heat beneath his palms. Then Sam jerked in his arms and gasped, "De…an, Dean."

"Yeah, Sam, it's me. You're okay, you're okay."

"What just happened? I hit you!"

"It's okay, man, you weren't yourself. I forgive you. It's okay, just relax."

Sam threw his gigantic arms around Dean and practically hugged the life out of him.

"Thank you, Dean."

"Yeah, Sam, it's okay. It's okay."

Dean patted him on the back and pulled away. One down, Dean thought, glad to have his brother back to normal. He had a feeling Cas wouldn't be as easy to resolve.

"Don’t rejoice yet, Deano, we've still got one more to go."

"I know. Same deal as Sam?"

"We'll have to see."

Dean moved over to Castiel, who had a look of utter betrayal on his face as he looked past Dean to Sam, who had the grace to look chagrined.

Cas looked at Dean, "What could you possibly to say to me that I would believe?"

"Shut up, Cas."

Dean pressed his palms against Cas' temples and grunted, "What does he need?"

"Cas is one ambitious multidimensional wavelength of fallen celestial intent, Gabriel said. "He wants nothing less than pure, all consuming love."

"What the hell does that even mean?"

"Figure it out!" Gabriel snapped.

Dean steeled himself, "Cas, I...uh...I...uh..love you...like a brother?"

Nothing happened. No heat beneath his palms, no herky-jerky movements from Cas.

"That's what you give to me? I love you like a brother? I have many brothers, Dean. I don't need another."

And like that, something shifted inside Dean. He stared into Castiel's eyes, and really let himself see the loneliness there, the bated hunger for something more, something that lingered just outside his reach.

It amazed Dean that all it took for him to finally recognize the way Cas had always looked at him, was to see the same expression directed at someone else. In this case, his brother.

"Cas," Dean whispered, drawing the angel's gaze back to him.

Castiel's eyes widened as he took in the expression on Dean's face, his chapped lips slightly parted.

Dean didn't know what to say, so he tried to tell him the only way he knew how. Dean took a deep breath and angled his head toward Castiel, his grip firm on the angel’s temples.

"What are you doing?" Castiel asked.

All Dean could think about as he sealed his lips to Castiel's, was how much terror, regret and a deep sense of loss he had felt when he saw the handprint scar had begun to vanish. And the sure and certain knowledge that he would do anything--anything--to get it back. To get Cas back.

Even kiss his angel in front of his brother and Bobby.

At first, the angel sat there stiff as a board. Then slowly, he started to move his lips and kiss Dean back.

Dean's palms swelled with heat, but he just kept kissing Castiel.

Gabriel saw the flash of the purple beneath Dean's hands and congratulated himself on a trick well played.

Freed from the sway of the mojo, Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean and kissed him back with gusto, and far more skill than Gabriel expected.

"Uh, would one of you put this thing out?" Sam asked, pointedly keeping his eyes fixed away from the scene of his brother thoroughly kissing the wits out Castiel.

"'Bout damn time if you ask me," Bobby said as he wheeled into action, pouring ashes on the flames and clearing a path for Sam.

"I'd better get a reward for this," Gabriel said, shamelessly ogling Dean and Cas.

Epilogue

"I see they finally let you go," Crowley said as soon as Gabriel landed in the bedroom.

Gabriel smirked at him, "It took some explaining, but they believed me and let me go. I promised I'd be back in the morning to explain some more--fully clothed this time."

"Well, done," Crowley said, "I've already informed Kali and the others of our rousing success."

"Our success?"

Crowley patted the space beside him on the bed, "I'm happy to make up for my earlier pessimism."

"I'll hold you to that, but the hound has to go," Gabriel said.

"Growley, wait outside," Crowley ordered, "Now, where were we?'

Gabriel dropped the blanket from around himself and crawled onto the bed. He stopped just outside Crowley's reach and smirked, "Say it," he ordered.

Crowley rolled his eyes, "You're insufferable."

Gabriel refused to move.

"Fine," Crowley cleared his throat and said, "Give me your hands, if we be friends/And Robin shall restore amends."

Fin