[Fic] Broken, Beat and Scarred (R) for juwel_fic
Gift type: Fanfic
Title: Broken, Beat and Scarred
Recipient: juwel_fic
Author: orandream
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, torture, angst
Spoilers: Up to 5.10
Summary: Dean, Cas and Sam try to relax by doing something normal for a change, but it doesn’t work out the way they planned.
Author notes: Beta thanks to the wonderful Debris as usual.
I tried to use the prompt: Dean continues Cas's education on humans by taking him to a Metallica concert (with many opportunities for humor) but while there they run into some demons, a big fight, and end up licking their wounds after. (And maybe each other too.) Not sure I managed it entirely but hope this is something enjoyable enough for you to read. Title courtesy of Metallica
Prologue
“I do not understand the purpose of this. You listen to the music every day in the car as you drive. Why is it necessary to drive even more to listen to the same music being played in a large arena?”
“It’s live, Cas. Live music is the best. The crowd, the atmosphere, the whole experience, seeing the band up there on stage actually playing the songs; sometimes they play slightly different versions, even. Recorded music is great, but real music is live music. You’ll see. It’ll be great. Trust me.”
Cas had trusted him.
That was the problem.
Metallica Concert, Day 0
It was a huge crowd, noisy and heaving. Dean did the whole puppy dog eyes thing at Cas and he mojo’ed Sam and the two of them front and centre of the stage. The crush wasn’t too bad once the crowd began to settle down and they had a perfect view, although Dean had a moment’s sympathy for whoever was standing directly behind Sam.
The music was loud, aggressive almost, throbbing bass and siren guitar and in Dean’s opinion absolutely perfect. For once he had managed to persuade Cas out of his normal dark suit, tie and trench coat ensemble and into a pair of blue jeans with a worn blue shirt that so did not bring out the colour of his eyes, at all. The angel was even mumbling along with the songs he knew and actually appeared to have relaxed a little.
And that was what probably got them into trouble.
For the first time in years, the brothers and their angel let their guard down a little too much. They didn’t notice the five guys, all with black eyes and built along the same lines as Sam, until it was far too late.
Captivity, Day 1
When Dean woke up the first thing he registered were the shackles. The second was his lack of clothes. And third, Cas’ lack of clothes.
They were bound to the walls of a cell by heavy metal restraints around their wrists and ankles, Dean against one wall and Cas opposite him.
The cell was dim and smelled damp. It wasn’t exactly cold, but it didn’t have central heating, either. There was a door on one side and that was it. Beneath his feet, running all the way 'round the edge of the room was a metal grill about a foot wide; the rest of the floor was stone, same as the walls. It took a minute for Dean to realise its purpose.
They were screwed, and unless Sam had miraculously escaped capture, they were royally screwed.
“You okay, Cas?”
“For the moment, yes. Although I do not anticipate remaining okay for much longer.”
“Hey, it might be me they want.”
“I sincerely doubt it.”
Cas had been right.
About an hour later the door clanged open and three of the demons who had snatched them came in, released Cas and hauled him from the cell. It was a long time before they brought him back, looking decidedly less healthy than when they’d taken him.
Captivity, Day 2
Cas healed slowly overnight.
The demons came and took Cas away again.
“Hey, take me,” Dean called out, knowing all the while it was futile, but he never had been one to go down quietly.
Soon after Cas had gone they brought him water and some kind of weird soup. It didn’t taste very good but at least they were feeding him.
Cas was gone longer than before.
And came back worse.
Captivity, Day 3
“What do they want, Cas?” It wasn’t the first time he’d asked.
“I do not know.”
“Bull! They must’ve said something.”
“No, they have not.”
They came and took him away again before Dean could pursue the issue further and then returned to feed and water Dean just as before.
“Look, what do you motherfuckers want with us? Why are you only doing this to Cas? Why don’t you take me?” If only to give Cas a break, Dean thought.
He never got an answer. The demons poured the water down his throat and spooned the soup into his mouth until the bowl was empty, and then left.
Dean growled in frustration.
Captivity, Day 4
He couldn’t be sure, but he thought they came for Cas earlier that day.
He’d gone back over the events at the concert in his mind and for some reason he thought they hadn’t taken Sam. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking and Sam was already dead, but, like when his Dad was missing, he thought he’d feel it somehow if Sammy was dead… and he didn’t.
That was something at least.
Captivity, Day 5
Cas was beginning to weaken. Dean could see it.
“Don’t give in to them, Cas. We’ll get out of here. Sammy’ll come find us.”
“I hope you are right.”
Cas’ voice was hoarse, gravelly and pained, and angel or no, Dean wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out.
Captivity, Day 6
Cas was gone most of the day.
Dean noticed how badly the cell stank.
Captivity, Day 7
Cas' arm was broken. He screamed softly when they shackled him to the wall.
Dean swore long and loud.
Captivity, Day 8
So much blood. It left a trail across the floor of the cell when they dragged Cas back in and Dean could hear it dripping down through the grating under their feet.
Captivity, Day 9
Cas was unconscious when they brought him back this time. It was hours before he came 'round.
“Cas! Cas! Come on, man, speak to me, please!” Dean was frantic.
The first sound was a soft whimper, followed by a long, low pain-filled moan.
“Come on, Cas. Say something, anything. Just let me know you’re still in there.”
Dean waited, eyes fixed on the mess that was his friend, heart pounding against his ribs.
“Still… still here.”
“Good. Do you know what they want yet?”
“I… I have an idea.”
“What?” Silence. “Come on, Cas, tell me. What do they want with us? What’s all this for?”
“I cannot be sure, but I think they’re using me to get to you.”
Dean felt himself frown. “But they don’t even speak to me and they certainly haven’t released me from this wall since we got here.”
“Like…” Cas gasped and whimpered again. “Like I said, only an idea.”
Dean didn’t press it. Instead he did what he’d done every time they brought Cas back, he talked softly about anything and everything until they both slipped into some kind of semi conscious doze.
Captivity, Day 10
When they brought Cas back this time Dean was convinced he was dead. It was hours before the angel came around and even then he couldn’t speak. Dean died a little himself with every pained whimper and moan that fell from Cas’ broken lips. He wanted to scream, to yell, to break things or demons. He needed to do something.
Cas hung in his shackles, bleeding and broken and all Dean could do was talk, which was useless. He wasn’t even sure Cas could hear him anymore.
The door clanged open, making him jump. Well, this was new, different. It couldn’t be morning yet, could it?
This time they took them both.
Dean winced as his arms were released and trying to walk showed him just how weak he was. Cas couldn’t walk at all, so two demons dragged him along between them. They were taken down a long corridor into a much bigger room. One glance at the walls and the items carefully laid out on a nearby table made Dean shudder; his stomach lurched and he felt sweat start to trickle down between his shoulder blades.
If they were still on Earth, then this place was as near as it got to being Hell on Earth.
A balding man, thin faced and black eyed, stood in the centre of the room. Dean stood in front of him and the demons just dropped Cas at Dean’s side. The man, an arch-demon Dean thought, judging by the colour of his eyes, sniffed and smirked. There was something oddly familiar about him, but Dean couldn’t place what it was or where he’d encountered him before. Dean dismissed the thought; remembering probably wouldn’t help any.
“How are the mighty fallen, eh?” The demon glanced down at Castiel as he spoke. “Look at you, filthy, stinking, even calling you human is more than either of you deserve. An Angel of the Lord and The Righteous Man.” The arch-demon tutted contemptuously. “You never were the best examples of your kind, either of you, but now…”
“So why don’t you do us all a favour and just kill us, then?” Dean finally found his voice.
“Because that’s not part of the plan.”
Well, now they knew there was a plan. “So what is the plan, anyway, and while we’re talking, who the hell are you?”
“Oh Dean, you never were that bright, were you? Sam definitely got the brains in the Winchester clan.”
“What have you done with Sam?” For a moment Dean panicked. Sam was his only hope.
“Sam? Nothing. Sam’s of no interest to me whatsoever.”
Relief flooded Dean like a small tidal wave.
“But don’t expect him to come galloping over the hill with the cavalry either. Sam won’t find you because right now he has other concerns.”
“Such as?”
“Oh, let's just say I may not be interested in Sam, but I know someone who is.”
Dean felt his fists clench tight at his sides. He really, really wanted to take a swing at the sonofabitch in front of him, but even he knew it wouldn’t help matters right now.
“So what is this plan you got going, then?”
“Well, to begin with, a little fun, then we’ll see how we all feel. Shall we?” The arch-demon nodded at his henchmen. They grabbed Castiel and in less than a minute had him strung up, arms overhead, feet just an inch from the ground.
Dean winced and watched Cas stifle a moan.
“Why don’t you leave him alone and start on me instead.”
The demon shook his head. “Dean, Dean, Dean. You still don’t get it, do you?” He nodded again and the other demons got to work with their knives.
It didn’t take them long to make Cas scream.
“What do you want, you bastard?”
“For now we want you to watch.”
Dean didn’t want to, but the second he tried to look away someone or something grabbed his head and held it in a vice like grip. He couldn’t even blink.
It went on for hours, or at least it felt like hours.
Days.
Weeks.
Dean realised that there was something about the place that made it seem like time was standing still. Dean wasn’t sure if they’d been there minutes or years. All he knew was that he was watching his angel, his friend, the being who’d chosen him over Heaven, die by inches in front of him and they wouldn’t even tell him why.
He’d shouted himself hoarse, demanding answers, asking them to torture him instead; in the end begging and pleading with them to leave Cas alone, but he may as well have been talking to a brick wall.
He tried to look for a means of escape but there was no time when they were left without at least four guards and most of the time it was six.
And Cas was hanging on by a thread. They’d done unspeakable things to the angel and Dean had never felt as helpless and useless in his life.
He’d never wanted to die before, not really, but now, now he just wanted oblivion. Except that probably meant Hell, and he wasn’t sure if Hell was better than this.
The arch-demon returned every so often. Sometimes he spoke, sometimes he laughed, sometimes he just stood there and watched, unmoved and unmoving as Dean screamed and cursed and begged and pleaded.
“Please, for god’s sake, please stop, or kill us! You’re killing him anyway. What do you want? Just tell me what you want?”
He hadn’t even realised he was on his knees.
Suddenly the air seemed to flicker and waver and for a second Dean thought he was somewhere else.
Then a whole lot of things happened at once.
The room was filled with the kind of blinding light that could only mean one thing and Dean had the presence of mind to close his eyes. When he opened them again he was surrounded by people, and not just any old people, either: Sam, Rufus, hunters Dean recognised, hunters he didn’t, even Bobby was there in his wheelchair, and in the middle of them all was Gabriel. Dean blinked several times and desperately hoped this rescue was real and not some kind of trick, but Sam was real enough and Dean trusted his brother.
It was a well planned rescue mission, go Sammy and Gabe. The fight was brief and brutal; with the emphasis less on ganking demons, though that was always good, and more on getting them out of the way so that they could free Cas and hopefully leave. Despite being horribly weak Dean managed to do his bit. He took out two of the bastards who had been working on Cas and then yelled at Sam to help him get Cas down.
They did it as gently as they could.
And then there was a familiar lurch and they were all back at Bobby’s. Dean looked around, frantically until he saw that Gabriel had Cas in his arms. This was no trick, they really were free, back at Bobby’s with Cas.
“It’s real, Dean,” Sam spoke directly into Dean’s ear; it was enough.
“Put him on the bed,” Bobby indicated his own bed, moved downstairs into the corner of the old sitting room now that Bobby wasn’t going upstairs anymore. He nodded at Rufus who herded the other hunters outside and they heard the sounds of car doors slamming and engines coming to life as the hunters left. There would be time for thanks later.
Gabriel laid Cas down gently, setting his limbs straight and smoothing the hair off his face, all the time wearing an unreadable expression on his face.
“Can you heal him?” Dean asked softly, Sam all but holding him up.
“Some. I can do enough for his physical form to make sure he lives,” Gabriel trailed off and looked away.
“But,” Dean shot back.
“He’s been violated in ways no angel should ever have to endure. I… I don’t know if… if he’ll even…” Gabriel stopped and turned back to look at Dean, his eyes full of something Dean had never thought to see on this particular angel’s face.
“If he’ll want to live? That’s what you’re trying to say, isn’t it? You think he might prefer death.”
Gabriel nodded. “It happens sometimes.”
“Heal him.” There was no hesitation and Dean’s voice was hard. “Heal him. I’ll… I’ll make sure he wants to live.”
Gabriel looked at him for a long minute and Dean saw the aeons of existence behind eyes that usually danced with malice and mirth. Age, but not necessarily wisdom. It was frightening to see. There were hundreds of questions that needed answering here, but right now Dean only wanted one thing.
“Heal him. Please!”
Gabriel continued to look at Dean, as if he was trying to read him and finding it hard, then he nodded once more and turned back to the bed. “It won’t be easy, convincing him.”
“It never is,” Dean muttered and finally allowed Sam to lower him into a chair. He watched carefully as Gabriel got to work. Cas appeared unconscious but Dean heard Gabriel tell him quietly to stop fighting him and let him do all the work.
“Being able to heal the vessel is instinctive in an angel, but Castiel’s power has drastically diminished since he turned his back on Heaven. And he never was the greatest angel-”
Dean growled.
Gabriel smiled. “Down boy. I was going to say that maybe there was always more to him than the rest of us realised. Hid his light under a bushel, you might say. Somehow I wasn’t so surprised when it was him that pulled you from Hell. The others were, but not me. Zach always, always underestimated him. Even now.”
Sam flinched and Dean wondered why, but it was just another in the myriad of questions running through his brain.
Healing Cas didn’t take Gabriel long, considering the extent of his injuries.
“There. He’ll live.” Gabriel shrugged and stepped away from the bed, but Dean didn’t miss the oddly gentle caress before he released Cas’ hand.
“Thanks.” Dean looked around the room, for the first time since they got back.
“It’ll be a while ‘til he wakes up and when he does, you’re on your own, buddy.”
Dean nodded, “Fair enough.”
The silence that followed was awkward. No one knew quite where to look. Dean was aware that he was still a stinking mess, but having seen to Castiel he now wanted answers.
“So is anyone gonna tell me how the hell we came to be rescued by a cavalry of hunters and an archangel?”
Not surprisingly, it was Sam who spoke up. “I couldn’t find you, Dean. At the concert. You were there one minute then the next you were just gone. At first I thought it was just the crowd, then I thought that Cas had spirited you away for some reason, but when neither of you were answering your cell phones and you didn’t turn up back at the car, I called Bobby in case Cas had mojo’ed you back here. He hadn’t.
“There were no clues, anywhere. It was like you’d vanished off the face of the Earth. To be honest we were getting pretty frantic. Then this demon turned up and things got really weird for a while but that’s a whole other story.”
“One that you will be telling me though, after I’ve had a shower,” Dean broke in.
“Okay, okay, yeah, sure. Anyway, the upshot of it all was that Gabriel and this demon that had turned up had been involved in some kind of mini war of their own, right when the demon had gotten orders to come hassle me. Gabriel turned up after him and I ended up telling him what had happened.”
Sam broke off and looked at Gabriel as if expecting him to take up the tale.
It was a while before anyone spoke.
“Yeah, I wasn’t pleased when my bit of personal fun time got interrupted so I came along to see what was so important that Perdith would duck out on me. And when I found out who he’d been sent to play with I decided the sooner I got you back the sooner I could get back to getting on with my own life.” The Trickster was back now. The archangel persona gone with a head tilt, a shrug and a sardonic grin that still set Dean’s teeth on edge.
“So that’s it. You decided to help Sam find us because your most recent pissing contest got interrupted.”
“Yep, that’s about it.” The grin grew wider.
Dean sighed and resisted the temptation to hit someone; he was in enough pain as it was. “Try again guys, even I don’t believe that.”
Sam looked away, looked guilty, looked like he did when there was something he didn’t know how to say.
“How about we go for a do over, only with the truth this time,” Dean wasn’t giving up.
“Dean,” the archangel was back again now. “You don’t want the truth, believe me.”
“Actually, I do.”
“Dean…” that was Sam’s soothing voice. So not working.
“Guys, what the hell are you not telling me here?”
Sam looked at Gabriel and then at Castiel. He nodded his head in the direction of the other room.
“Okay.” Dean hauled himself up and followed. “So?” He spoke the minute they were out of the lounge slash bedroom.
Another long look between Sam and the archangel then Sam turned his sad-eyed gaze on Dean.
“They weren’t demons, Dean.”
“Huh… who weren’t?”
“The ones who took you, they weren’t demons.”
Dean felt his eyes widen.
“O-kay… So we have a new big bad on the block. If they weren’t demons, what were they?”
Sam sighed and looked at Dean, catching his eyes and holding them, until…
They weren’t demons. Dean felt sick, really really sick. He could feel the bile rising in the back of his throat. “You mean?” The words wouldn’t come. “You’re telling me that the monsters who took us, who did that to Castiel…” He couldn’t bring himself to actually say it.
“Yeah… ”
Dean sat down heavily when his legs refused to cooperate anymore.
“Did Cas know?” He voiced the question, but he already knew the answer.
“Oh yeah, he must have. Even with his diminished powers he would have known instantly that they were angels posing as demons. Doing it pretty well too, they’d have fooled anyone except another angel.” Gabriel’s tone was flat.
“Sonofabitch!” Dean hunched forwards, but it was no good. “I need the bathroom.” Sam grabbed him and propelled him into Bobby’s bathroom, where he threw up violently for the next several minutes. When he was done he rinsed his mouth and then decided to go the whole hog, clean his teeth and take a shower. He needed one, and it would give him some alone time to get his head around everything he’d just heard.
In other circumstances he would have lingered under the hot spray and relished cleaning ten days worth of crap (literally) from his skin, but he still had questions he wanted answering and he wouldn’t put it past Gabriel to just fly off and leave him hanging.
Sam must have heard the shower because the bathroom door opened and Sam spoke.
“Clean clothes, Dean.”
“Thanks.”
He took a few seconds to appreciate the clothes as he dressed, and then went back to the others and hopefully some more answers.
The first thing he noticed was that although Gabriel was technically in the room with Sam and Bobby he was basically standing guard in the doorway to where Cas lay. It said a lot that the archangel was so concerned.
“That’s why you told me he might not want to live, isn’t it, because it was his family doing that to him.” Dean didn’t give anyone the chance to deflect him from finding out what he wanted to know.
Gabriel nodded.
“Why’d they do it? I mean, I guess they thought it would persuade me to be Michael’s angel condom, but…” Dean couldn’t get any further.
“You don’t respond all that well to personal threats, Dean, let’s face it; we’ve all tried and torturing you just makes you more stubborn. You do respond when someone threatens your family, though. Dean Winchester always puts his family first, so they went after the person they thought would be your biggest weakness.”
Dean frowned, “So why Cas, why not take Sammy?”
Sam rolled his eyes.
Dean felt like he’d been punched, again, but he had to put that particular discussion aside for now. He didn’t love Cas more than Sammy, it was just different. He wasn’t stupid, he remembered that they’d been told by a couple of demons that Sam was off limits, so, yeah, maybe it all made sense, in a sick, twisted kind of way.
“But they’re his family, his brothers. I mean… how could they?”
“We get what we want, Dean. Always have, always will, or until Daddy gets back, if ever. Ends justify the means and all that. They probably told him again they were doing it because they loved him.”
“Again!?” Dean didn’t think he could possibly feel any worse, but he suddenly did.
“They hauled him back once before, remember. Likely as not they did something similar then. Maybe not as bad, but…” Gabriel shrugged.
Dean swore. Anna had told him, but he hadn’t really registered what she’d meant and he’d never thought to ask Cas.
“You guys really are the biggest douche bags…” Words failed and Dean just shook his head. “Look, thanks for what you did. It probably hasn’t made you too popular with the Heavenly Host.”
One side of Gabriel’s mouth quirked up in response. “You didn’t have to turn on that sprinkler system.” Only an archangel could make a thank-you sound like an insult, but then this was Gabriel, the Trickster, the archangel who ran out on Heaven because he couldn’t stand the family in-fighting. Gabriel hesitated, probably for the first time in centuries. “Do you… do you mind if I pop back occasionally to…” He turned to look at Castiel.
“See how he’s doing?” Dean was surprised and let it show. He still didn’t trust Gabriel, in spite of everything.
Gabriel nodded.
“Why’d you want to?”
“He’s my brother.”
Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. He knew he was being played, but Gabriel had helped Sam rescue them; without him Cas would probably be dead by now and he’d be wearing Michael to the prom. “Provided that’s all you come to do.”
The archangel raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, pax; for now, anyway.”
“Okay.”
“See y’around.” And with that the archangel Gabriel was gone. Dean didn’t trust him and wasn’t sure he ever would, but…
At least Cas was safe for now.
Recovery, Day 1
It was three days before Cas regained consciousness.
Dean was with him when he finally opened his eyes.
“Hey, you’re back.”
Cas sat up. His upper body came up all in one piece, like a puppet on a string.
“Whoa, steady on. You’ve been out cold for a while, buddy.”
“I am fine.” He swung his legs 'round the side of the bed and stood up. And immediately sat down again, a puzzled look on his face.
“Or maybe not, eh.” Dean sat beside him. “Maybe you should stay in bed and rest for a while. You took quite a hammering back there.”
Cas thought about it and then settled back on the bed. “Perhaps you are right. I will rest and regain my strength.”
Dean grinned. “I’ll get you some pie.”
“I do not need…”
“Uh-uh!” Dean wagged a finger at him. “Pie’ll help you feel better.”
Cas nodded weakly.
Recovery, Day 2
Of course Cas didn’t stay in bed.
He appeared at breakfast the next morning dressed in his old ensemble minus the jacket, tie and trench coat. Dean gave him a sweater. It was a nice one, pale blue and incredibly soft. Almost new too, since sweaters weren’t something Dean wore that often.
“Thank-you.”
Dean smiled, “You’re welcome.”
When Cas put the sweater on, Dean didn’t say it looked far better on Cas than it ever had on him.
Recovery, Day 3
Cas hadn’t flown off yet. Dean took that as a good sign and tried to include him in everything that went on at Bobby’s, from the cleaning and cooking to the planning of their next move. Together they moved him into the upstairs bedroom next to Dean so Bobby could have his room back.
Cas wasn’t saying much, except to answer direct questions, but he was there and that was enough for now.
He wore the blue sweater all day, too.
Recovery, Day 4
Bobby asked Cas to help with some further research into the Four Horsemen. They were assuming that, having already let two out of the bag, Lucifer intended setting the remaining two loose and Bobby was trying to get ahead of the game as to the how and the where.
Cas seemed quite happy to help. He spent the day huddled in his blue sweater in the corner of Bobby’s study, poring over old books and manuscripts, carefully marking anything that might be useful and making meticulous notes which he passed to Bobby at the end of the day.
“You’re not bad at this, are you?” The only answer Bobby got was the usual head tilt and nod.
Recovery, Day 5
For himself, Dean was recovering okay. He’d slept a good deal, eaten his way through most of Bobby’s food stocks, and now he wanted to get out for a while.
“You wanna come into town, Cas? Sam and me’re going grocery shopping for Bobby. We could get you some more clothes and grab a burger somewhere while we’re there.”
Cas looked at Dean for a while, unblinking, before he nodded and went and got a jacket, which was actually an old one of Dean’s.
Dean wasn’t sure how on board with the trip Cas was, but he seemed okay in the car and when they got to town he pushed the grocery trolley 'round the store while Dean and Sam loaded it with all the things they needed to replace for Bobby and anything else they fancied besides. Dean tried to get Cas interested in the various food items but he said he had no preference for any one thing over another, so in the end they just got things they thought he might like to try. Dean would eat them either way.
At the clothes section Cas let Dean select him jeans and t-shirts, underwear and shoes. They got him a new coat too, even though Dean was pretty sure angels didn’t exactly feel the cold.
Dean knew why he was doing all this, of course. He didn’t need the lecture Sam was gearing up to giving him, about guilt and trying to make things right by showering Cas with stuff he didn’t need and probably didn’t want, but for now it eased the ache that had settled in his chest. An ache that sharpened to a piercing pain every time he looked into Cas' eyes and saw the hurt, the loss and the horror that lurked in the dull blue depths.
Recovery, Day 6
Cas was still there.
He wore some of his new clothes, and Dean’s blue sweater.
Recovery, Day 7
Dean decided he was fully healed and headed outside to work on the Impala.
Cas sat in the window and helped Bobby with the research. Later he tried his hand at making burgers. It was Bobby’s idea, but Dean wasn’t too sure. Though Cas didn’t really need to eat he seemed okay with it.
The burgers were okay, too.
Recovery, Day 8
Gabriel dropped by and was surprised that Cas was up and about. He talked with Dean outside.
“He isn’t really talking much yet, but he came into town with us and he’s helping Bobby with some research. And he made burgers the other day.”
Gabriel smirked at the burger information. “He’s still with you, which is surprising.”
Dean let that one go. He wasn’t going to discuss his greatest fear, that they’d wake up one morning to find Cas’ bed empty and the angel gone, certainly not with Gabriel.
“Any idea when he’ll start talking to us properly again?”
“Nope, not a clue. He should never have gotten off that bed except to cast himself into the Heavens, from whence never to return. So, flying blind here, literally, outside my area of expertise, I’m afraid.”
Dean nodded and slumped a bit. He’d been hoping for more useful information from Gabriel.
“Hey, he’s still here, so you gotta be doing something right, right?”
Dean hoped so. Gabriel tossed him a jaunty salute and winked out.
Recovery, Day 9
Bobby got a call early in the morning from a couple of hunters in over their heads with a nest of vampires the next state over.
Dean and Sam hit the road before Cas was up and about. With the Winchester brothers on the case, they and the two hunters soon had the vampires all despatched. The brothers begged off the celebratory beer and were back at Bobby’s later that night. Dean didn’t want to be away from Cas for too long and he had a momentary panic when Cas wasn’t there to greet them.
“Where’s Cas?”
Bobby sighed and nodded towards the stairs. “Don’t think he was too keen on you leaving without saying anything. Actually, don’t think he was keen on you leaving at all, Dean.”
“Aw, shit!” Dean headed for the stairs. They’d been leaving Cas pretty much to do whatever he wanted most of the time. He joined them at breakfast and pottered around with them the rest of the day, generally heading back off to bed when Dean did. Cas wasn’t human and no one had been able to tell them how to help an angel come to terms with what had happened so Dean figured they were best giving Cas his space and letting him deal his own way.
Once upstairs he tapped on Cas’ bedroom door.
“Cas? Cas! Can I come in?”
No answer.
“Please?”
Dean thought he heard a faint rustle from the other side of the door. He was tired, achy and covered in vampire stink and not really in the mood for angel histrionics. He’d only been away for one day, for God’s sake.
“Look, I’m coming in, okay?”
Dean pushed the door open and peered round. Cas was there, still in his sleep attire, sitting on the wide windowsill with his arms around his knees, gazing out into the night.
“Hey.” He crossed the room to the window. “You okay?” It was a bit of a stupid question as Cas was obviously far from okay, but Dean wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Come on, dude. Talk to me. What’s the matter?”
Cas turned from the window and looked at him. What he saw made Dean step back and wonder if he should just leave. There was no way he could fix this. This was beyond him, out of his league, in a whole other ballpark.
He’d seen this dead-eyed Cas before. In another time, a future Dean spent much of his present trying to prevent, Dean had sent this Cas to his death. A merciful release? Dean didn’t know. And Cas had gone, willingly, knowingly and without question, for Dean, just as he’d flown into Hell, for Dean, just as he’d gone to Zachariah’s torture chamber. It wasn’t quite the same as that future. This Cas wasn’t drugged out of his angel mind, boozed up on absinthe and amphetamines, but this, what he saw here could so easily be the start. All the good bits of humanity, the care, the feelings, the fun stuff they were trying to share with him, all the things worth fighting for, family, friends… love. It had all been coming to him slowly, a steady dawn of realisation about what made humanity human and good and now, now it was gone. All Dean could see now was dread, horror, devastation, revulsion, pain; such incredible pain. This wasn’t the cynical age-without-wisdom he’d seen in Gabriel’s eyes that had been so frightening, this was a void filled with everything bad. He remembered reading somewhere that ‘the loss of all hope was the worst thing,’ and that loss was what he was looking at now.
Cas had been cast out, abandoned, hunted; but before, even when everything seemed so bad, he’d always had this tiny flicker of hope, of faith. Faith in Dean, faith in himself and hope that he would find his father, find God. And his fucking douchebag family had destroyed that.
Dean couldn’t repair this damage. Had no idea what had made him think he could in the first place.
Instinct kicked in - flight.
“Want me to leave you alone?”
When there was no answer to the contrary Dean turned and started to walk towards the door.
“Dean. Dean!”
That voice, rough, broken, yet saying his name as if, as if it meant something. As if Dean really could do something.
Heal him. I’ll… I’ll make sure he wants to live. He was a fool. What had he been thinking? How the hell was he gonna make an angel want to stick around? Cocky, arrogant jackass Dean Winchester, who the hell did he think he was? Why would Castiel, Angel of the Lord want to stick around him? Hadn’t the poor bastard been through enough? Done enough already?
And yet…
He’s still here, so you gotta be doing something right. Gabriel’s words echoed in Dean’s head. Cas was still here. If he’d wanted to go, today would have been the perfect chance.
Cas was still here. Still trying. And Dean had said he’d make sure he wanted to live. It wasn’t exactly a promise, only it was, actually. If Cas was still here, then Dean had to keep trying, had to be there for him, be whatever Cas needed him to be.
Decision made, Dean turned around. “What do you want, Cas? What can I do?”
He went back to the window and crouched down beside the angel. “Tell me. Anything you want. If I can do it, it’s yours.”
Cas was silent for a long time; Dean’s knees were beginning to complain so he shifted to sit on the other end of the sill and waited.
“You want a blanket or something? S’getting chilly now.”
Cas shook his head and it was then that Dean caught sight of a sliver of blue wool trapped between Cas' knees and chest. They’d bought Cas a few changes of clothes but there was one item he’d worn every day since Dean had given it to him. He’d just thought Cas liked the sweater, it was one of the few good pieces of clothing Dean had. He knew he liked Cas wearing it, not that he’d admit that to anyone, of course. Now he wondered if there was more to it than that.
“You pissed at me because we went on a job? Didn’t want to wake you that early to tell you about it, you need your rest, and Bobby knew where we were.” Cas didn’t say anything but he kept looking steadily at Dean. “Should I have called?”
What the fuck? Dean had no idea why he’d just said that. Since when did he call to say he’d be home soon; he’d stopped doing that when Sammy was a teenager.
“Yes.”
Dean tried to cover his double take. He’d promised to make Castiel want to live, after all, he’d never been good at the whole calling to say where he was shit. Bobby complained constantly about it to him, but what would it cost him to at least try, for Cas.
“Okay. No promises, but I’ll try and remember in future.”
Dean didn’t think Cas had stared at him for this long since the early days, over a year ago.
“You gonna get into bed now?”
“No.”
“Dude?”
Cas went back to looking out the window. Dean blew out a long breath, he was at a loss. He needed a shower and some sleep, but he didn’t want to leave Cas like this. He’d thought they were doing okay. Thought Cas was doing okay, but obviously they weren’t as okay as he’d thought. And despite his resolve, Dean wasn’t sure what to do.
“Look, I need a shower, get rid of the vampire stink, so I’ll just go get one and be right back, okay?”
Was that a nod? Dean wasn’t sure, but he took it as one.
“Just don’t go anywhere, please.”
He was pretty sure that was a nod.
Sam was waiting for him out on the landing.
“How is he?”
“I dunno. Weird. Just sitting in the window. I think I pissed him off when I didn’t tell him we were going off for the day and now he’s having some kind of weird angel crisis.”
Sam nodded.
“Should we have woken him and told him? I thought he needed to rest.”
“He does, but maybe he needed you to explain what was happening more.”
“Oh come on, he’s a grown up angel, not a child.”
“Dean, think about it. He’s been tortured beyond anything any human could endure and since we got back he’s hardly let you out of his sight.”
“Sam, he’s been with Bobby and the books most of the time.”
“True, but downstairs is pretty open plan now to accommodate Bobby’s chair and he always sat where he could see you, even if he was watching you through the window while you worked on the car.”
Dean frowned. “You sure?”
“Pretty sure, yes.”
“And you didn’t think to say anything.”
“I’m sorry, I only just realised it. I noticed the other day, when you went out to change the plugs that he shifted to the window, but I didn’t realise why until…”
“Aw, fuck.”
Sam’s face softened. “You didn’t know, Dean, and he hasn’t exactly been saying a lot, has he.”
“No, but I should have realised.”
“You think this might have been what Gabriel meant?”
“When he said I was on my own after he’d done his angel mojo healing thing? Yeah. Sonofabitch could’ve told us more.”
“Hey, it’s only because of him you and Cas are here, so… And I think this ‘angelic crisis’ would have happened sooner or later anyway.”
“Yeah, I guess. Look, I told Cas I was gonna shower and then I’d be back, could you?”
“Okay, although I’m not really what he wants.”
“I won’t be long, and I just don’t think he should be alone right now. Just make sure he doesn’t fly off, okay?”
Sam nodded.
Dean may not have set a new world record for showering and dressing but he was still pretty fast. When he got back to Cas’ room Sam was sitting on the other end of the sill and Cas was at least uncurled and looking at him.
“Hey, you guys okay?”
Sam got up and relinquished his place to Dean. “I was just asking Cas if he wanted a drink or something.”
“Good idea, you gonna bring us something up?”
“That was the idea.”
Sam was back minutes later with a tray holding hot drinks, a bottle of Jack's and a plate of sandwiches.
“Courtesy of Bobby.”
“Thanks.”
Dean handed Cas a steaming mug and poured himself some whiskey as Sam slipped quietly from the room. They drank in silence. It wasn’t exactly companionable but Dean thought it could have been worse.
“You ready to hit the hay now?” Dean asked when Cas placed his empty mug on the sill between them.
Cas nodded and went to the bed. Dean kept his mouth firmly shut when the angel carefully folded the blue sweater and placed it under his pillow before getting into bed.
He munched on a sandwich and wondered if he should leave or stay until Cas dozed or slept or had an out of body experience or whatever it was angels did for sleep.
“Dean.” Cas’ rumble startled him out of his thoughts.
“What do you need?”
He crossed to the bed and sat on the edge. The angel didn’t say anything; he just looked from the empty side of the bed to Dean and tilted his head.
Dean swallowed. “You want me to stay?”
Cas kept looking at Dean, and there was no way Dean could refuse those eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His life had never been ordinary so why not add ‘sleeping with an angel’ to the list of weird shit he’d done in his time. It was a big enough bed.
“I hope you don’t snore.” Dean pulled back the covers, got into bed and tried not to chuckle at the affronted look on Cas’ face.
“Night, Cas.”
Recovery, Day 10
When Dean woke early the following morning Cas was still asleep. In the night the angel had curled in towards him. They weren’t cuddling exactly but they were touching in a few places and Dean was surprisingly okay with that. Cas looked small and vulnerable, tousled, young almost and Dean had to resist the urge to run his fingers through the mop of dark hair. Dean’s protective instinct had been honed from an early age and it came out full force as he looked at Cas. He’d always thought Cas didn’t really need him; he was an angel, millennia old and more than capable of taking care of himself, but without Heaven it was possible that in some ways Cas was as vulnerable as he and Sam were. We’ll all be hunted. The words echoed in Dean’s head. And I did it, all of it, for you. And you failed. And I lost everything, for nothing!
He was trying to make things right, dammit. Not that they were having much success so far, and he had no idea what the future held for any of them. All he knew was what he didn’t want, and right now a repeat of what had happened to Cas was at the top of the list along with preventing the future Zachariah had shown him a few months ago.
Dean squeezed his eyes shut. He needed Cas. He might as well admit it. Was he being selfish? Had his own selfish desire been the motivation for what he’d said to Gabriel? He’d been so certain he could pull Cas through this, help him recover, help him believe again, but after what he’d seen last night, he wasn’t so sure.
When he turned to look at the angel again he found himself looking into his dark blue eyes.
“Hey.”
When Cas didn’t respond Dean’s heart started up a tattoo against his ribs.
“You feeling any better this morning?”
Cas gazed at him, unblinking.
“Why, Dean?”
And here it was. He’d known it would happen sooner of later; the talk. This conversation had been coming for ten days and Dean had no more answers than he had back then.
“Why, what?” Dean stalled for time. Not that it did him any good. The answers weren’t going to pop magically into his head just because Cas had asked the question.
Cas didn’t answer, just continued to look at Dean.
“I…” Dean sighed and punched the pillow. “I just… I just wanted another chance, okay?”
Cas managed a head tilt even with his head resting on a pillow.
“Oh, the hell. I was being selfish. I… I told you before. I can’t do this alone, it’s too big.”
He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed but found himself held in an iron grip when Cas’ hand closed around his forearm.
“I have to know, Dean. I have to be sure. You told Gabriel you’d make sure I wanted to live. Why? I’m nothing compared to what I used to be, probably even less now than I was before.” Cas’ voice cracked, a rough, broken sound that made Dean want to scream with rage and curl up and die at the same time.
“You’re not nothing, not less than anything. You left Heaven to help me and that makes you better than any of those dicks. I don’t have any answers, Cas, not really. Not good answers. All I can say is… because… because I want you to stay. Because I need you!” Dean forced the words from his throat. “Because I’ve lost too many and I’m not losing someone else I care about. I’m… I’m just not!”
It was only when he tried to stand that he realised Cas still had hold of his arm. The angel’s hand slipped a little down to Dean’s hand, but he still didn’t let go. Somewhere in the turmoil that was Dean’s mind he realised he was holding hands with an angel.
“So, it’s all about what you want?” Cas voice was harsh.
He should have seen that one coming. “No! And don’t you dare fly off in a huff on me, you feathery jerk. We were friends, partners, and I thought… when we weren’t fighting this frigging apocalypse I thought we had…” Dean ran out of steam and ran his other hand through his short hair. “We were doing stuff together, normal stuff, fun stuff, even that damned rock concert.”
“They would have taken us from anywhere, Dean. The concert had nothing to do with it.”
Dean nodded. Cas was right about that.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, Cas.” Dean didn’t want to give up. Didn’t want someone else to give up on him, and leave, but he knew he had no rights over Castiel. If ever Cas had owed him anything, and he hadn’t, he’d repaid it a million times over, and Dean had no right to ask for more. Even angels got tired, Raphael had told them that. He couldn’t blame Cas if he wanted out. “If you really want to, fling yourself into the void or whatever it is you guys do to commit suicide, I guess… well, I guess I have no right to stop you. I shouldn’t have said what I said to Gabriel.”
Cas looked away and then back at Dean, and if anything the grip on his hand got tighter.
“If I’d wanted to do that I would have done it. You would not have been able to stop me.”
Frowning, Dean shook his head. “So… why?”
“Why didn’t I? Why am I asking? Because I can be selfish too, Dean.”
It took Dean a full minute to process Cas’ words. To get to what he was really saying.
“Oh.” And that was an inadequate response if ever there was one. Dean swivelled round so he was facing Cas properly. He wrapped Cas’ hand in both of his. “You saying you’re giving me another chance?”
“You don’t need another chance, Dean, nor will you.” Cas looked down at their joined hands then back at Dean. “Gabriel was right; it will not be easy for me, for us.”
Relief washed over Dean like a whole ocean at once. He felt weak with it, drained.
“So what else is new? Nothing’s ever easy for us.” He managed a cheeky grin and got a soft, tentative smile in return.
It was too soon to kiss. Cas certainly wasn’t ready for that, and neither was Dean, but he held Cas’ hand in both of his and just looked into his eyes, promising without words that he’d try his best.
Recovery, Day 257
They got back to Bobby’s late in the afternoon, all three of them in the Impala together. Cas could have flown, but he’d claimed the back seat and travelled with them more these days. The apocalypse was still going strong but they’d managed to put a dent in Lucifer’s plans to raise Pestilence and were returning to Bobby’s to regroup and plan their next step. Sam had a sprained wrist and Dean some cuts and bruises. Thankfully, Cas was injury free.
“Hey, boys,” Bobby greeted them the minute they opened the door. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, Bobby. Sam’ll need something for his wrist.” Dean snickered as he spoke and got an eye roll from Cas and a glower from Sam in return. “And we all need a shower, but for once…” Dean glanced at the uninjured Cas as he trailed off and Bobby nodded, relief written all over his face. Cas didn’t need protecting, but Dean always took it badly when he got so much as a scratch.
“Well, ya’ll know where the bathroom is. Oh, and Cas, there’s some mail for you on the dresser.” Bobby nodded to the one surface not covered with books by the window overlooking the front of the yard, where a white envelope lay with ‘Mr C. Winchester' and Bobby’s address typed neatly on the label.
Dean and Sam both blinked in surprise.
“Mail, Cas?”
“Actually, it’s for you, Dean.” Cas handed Dean the envelope.
Dean took it but didn’t open it, although the name on the envelope made his insides do funny things. “Um, it’s addressed to you.”
“I know, but I got the contents for you,” Cas succeeded in looking both worried and hopeful at the same time.
Dean shrugged and tore open the envelope. Inside were three tickets.
“Cas!” Dean’s grin turned into a megawatt smile as he showed Sammy the tickets for a Metallica concert the following month.
When the angel saw Dean’s reaction his worried expression morphed into a shy smile.
“C’mon.” Dean grabbed Cas by the arm and pulled him up the stairs towards his bedroom. They’d been building up to this for months and Dean decided now was the time. He didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate, didn’t ask and he certainly didn’t think, because that would have made it all too complicated. He just pulled an unresisting Cas into his arms and kissed him.
Title: Broken, Beat and Scarred
Recipient: juwel_fic
Author: orandream
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, torture, angst
Spoilers: Up to 5.10
Summary: Dean, Cas and Sam try to relax by doing something normal for a change, but it doesn’t work out the way they planned.
Author notes: Beta thanks to the wonderful Debris as usual.
I tried to use the prompt: Dean continues Cas's education on humans by taking him to a Metallica concert (with many opportunities for humor) but while there they run into some demons, a big fight, and end up licking their wounds after. (And maybe each other too.) Not sure I managed it entirely but hope this is something enjoyable enough for you to read. Title courtesy of Metallica
Prologue
“I do not understand the purpose of this. You listen to the music every day in the car as you drive. Why is it necessary to drive even more to listen to the same music being played in a large arena?”
“It’s live, Cas. Live music is the best. The crowd, the atmosphere, the whole experience, seeing the band up there on stage actually playing the songs; sometimes they play slightly different versions, even. Recorded music is great, but real music is live music. You’ll see. It’ll be great. Trust me.”
Cas had trusted him.
That was the problem.
Metallica Concert, Day 0
It was a huge crowd, noisy and heaving. Dean did the whole puppy dog eyes thing at Cas and he mojo’ed Sam and the two of them front and centre of the stage. The crush wasn’t too bad once the crowd began to settle down and they had a perfect view, although Dean had a moment’s sympathy for whoever was standing directly behind Sam.
The music was loud, aggressive almost, throbbing bass and siren guitar and in Dean’s opinion absolutely perfect. For once he had managed to persuade Cas out of his normal dark suit, tie and trench coat ensemble and into a pair of blue jeans with a worn blue shirt that so did not bring out the colour of his eyes, at all. The angel was even mumbling along with the songs he knew and actually appeared to have relaxed a little.
And that was what probably got them into trouble.
For the first time in years, the brothers and their angel let their guard down a little too much. They didn’t notice the five guys, all with black eyes and built along the same lines as Sam, until it was far too late.
Captivity, Day 1
When Dean woke up the first thing he registered were the shackles. The second was his lack of clothes. And third, Cas’ lack of clothes.
They were bound to the walls of a cell by heavy metal restraints around their wrists and ankles, Dean against one wall and Cas opposite him.
The cell was dim and smelled damp. It wasn’t exactly cold, but it didn’t have central heating, either. There was a door on one side and that was it. Beneath his feet, running all the way 'round the edge of the room was a metal grill about a foot wide; the rest of the floor was stone, same as the walls. It took a minute for Dean to realise its purpose.
They were screwed, and unless Sam had miraculously escaped capture, they were royally screwed.
“You okay, Cas?”
“For the moment, yes. Although I do not anticipate remaining okay for much longer.”
“Hey, it might be me they want.”
“I sincerely doubt it.”
Cas had been right.
About an hour later the door clanged open and three of the demons who had snatched them came in, released Cas and hauled him from the cell. It was a long time before they brought him back, looking decidedly less healthy than when they’d taken him.
Captivity, Day 2
Cas healed slowly overnight.
The demons came and took Cas away again.
“Hey, take me,” Dean called out, knowing all the while it was futile, but he never had been one to go down quietly.
Soon after Cas had gone they brought him water and some kind of weird soup. It didn’t taste very good but at least they were feeding him.
Cas was gone longer than before.
And came back worse.
Captivity, Day 3
“What do they want, Cas?” It wasn’t the first time he’d asked.
“I do not know.”
“Bull! They must’ve said something.”
“No, they have not.”
They came and took him away again before Dean could pursue the issue further and then returned to feed and water Dean just as before.
“Look, what do you motherfuckers want with us? Why are you only doing this to Cas? Why don’t you take me?” If only to give Cas a break, Dean thought.
He never got an answer. The demons poured the water down his throat and spooned the soup into his mouth until the bowl was empty, and then left.
Dean growled in frustration.
Captivity, Day 4
He couldn’t be sure, but he thought they came for Cas earlier that day.
He’d gone back over the events at the concert in his mind and for some reason he thought they hadn’t taken Sam. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking and Sam was already dead, but, like when his Dad was missing, he thought he’d feel it somehow if Sammy was dead… and he didn’t.
That was something at least.
Captivity, Day 5
Cas was beginning to weaken. Dean could see it.
“Don’t give in to them, Cas. We’ll get out of here. Sammy’ll come find us.”
“I hope you are right.”
Cas’ voice was hoarse, gravelly and pained, and angel or no, Dean wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out.
Captivity, Day 6
Cas was gone most of the day.
Dean noticed how badly the cell stank.
Captivity, Day 7
Cas' arm was broken. He screamed softly when they shackled him to the wall.
Dean swore long and loud.
Captivity, Day 8
So much blood. It left a trail across the floor of the cell when they dragged Cas back in and Dean could hear it dripping down through the grating under their feet.
Captivity, Day 9
Cas was unconscious when they brought him back this time. It was hours before he came 'round.
“Cas! Cas! Come on, man, speak to me, please!” Dean was frantic.
The first sound was a soft whimper, followed by a long, low pain-filled moan.
“Come on, Cas. Say something, anything. Just let me know you’re still in there.”
Dean waited, eyes fixed on the mess that was his friend, heart pounding against his ribs.
“Still… still here.”
“Good. Do you know what they want yet?”
“I… I have an idea.”
“What?” Silence. “Come on, Cas, tell me. What do they want with us? What’s all this for?”
“I cannot be sure, but I think they’re using me to get to you.”
Dean felt himself frown. “But they don’t even speak to me and they certainly haven’t released me from this wall since we got here.”
“Like…” Cas gasped and whimpered again. “Like I said, only an idea.”
Dean didn’t press it. Instead he did what he’d done every time they brought Cas back, he talked softly about anything and everything until they both slipped into some kind of semi conscious doze.
Captivity, Day 10
When they brought Cas back this time Dean was convinced he was dead. It was hours before the angel came around and even then he couldn’t speak. Dean died a little himself with every pained whimper and moan that fell from Cas’ broken lips. He wanted to scream, to yell, to break things or demons. He needed to do something.
Cas hung in his shackles, bleeding and broken and all Dean could do was talk, which was useless. He wasn’t even sure Cas could hear him anymore.
The door clanged open, making him jump. Well, this was new, different. It couldn’t be morning yet, could it?
This time they took them both.
Dean winced as his arms were released and trying to walk showed him just how weak he was. Cas couldn’t walk at all, so two demons dragged him along between them. They were taken down a long corridor into a much bigger room. One glance at the walls and the items carefully laid out on a nearby table made Dean shudder; his stomach lurched and he felt sweat start to trickle down between his shoulder blades.
If they were still on Earth, then this place was as near as it got to being Hell on Earth.
A balding man, thin faced and black eyed, stood in the centre of the room. Dean stood in front of him and the demons just dropped Cas at Dean’s side. The man, an arch-demon Dean thought, judging by the colour of his eyes, sniffed and smirked. There was something oddly familiar about him, but Dean couldn’t place what it was or where he’d encountered him before. Dean dismissed the thought; remembering probably wouldn’t help any.
“How are the mighty fallen, eh?” The demon glanced down at Castiel as he spoke. “Look at you, filthy, stinking, even calling you human is more than either of you deserve. An Angel of the Lord and The Righteous Man.” The arch-demon tutted contemptuously. “You never were the best examples of your kind, either of you, but now…”
“So why don’t you do us all a favour and just kill us, then?” Dean finally found his voice.
“Because that’s not part of the plan.”
Well, now they knew there was a plan. “So what is the plan, anyway, and while we’re talking, who the hell are you?”
“Oh Dean, you never were that bright, were you? Sam definitely got the brains in the Winchester clan.”
“What have you done with Sam?” For a moment Dean panicked. Sam was his only hope.
“Sam? Nothing. Sam’s of no interest to me whatsoever.”
Relief flooded Dean like a small tidal wave.
“But don’t expect him to come galloping over the hill with the cavalry either. Sam won’t find you because right now he has other concerns.”
“Such as?”
“Oh, let's just say I may not be interested in Sam, but I know someone who is.”
Dean felt his fists clench tight at his sides. He really, really wanted to take a swing at the sonofabitch in front of him, but even he knew it wouldn’t help matters right now.
“So what is this plan you got going, then?”
“Well, to begin with, a little fun, then we’ll see how we all feel. Shall we?” The arch-demon nodded at his henchmen. They grabbed Castiel and in less than a minute had him strung up, arms overhead, feet just an inch from the ground.
Dean winced and watched Cas stifle a moan.
“Why don’t you leave him alone and start on me instead.”
The demon shook his head. “Dean, Dean, Dean. You still don’t get it, do you?” He nodded again and the other demons got to work with their knives.
It didn’t take them long to make Cas scream.
“What do you want, you bastard?”
“For now we want you to watch.”
Dean didn’t want to, but the second he tried to look away someone or something grabbed his head and held it in a vice like grip. He couldn’t even blink.
It went on for hours, or at least it felt like hours.
Days.
Weeks.
Dean realised that there was something about the place that made it seem like time was standing still. Dean wasn’t sure if they’d been there minutes or years. All he knew was that he was watching his angel, his friend, the being who’d chosen him over Heaven, die by inches in front of him and they wouldn’t even tell him why.
He’d shouted himself hoarse, demanding answers, asking them to torture him instead; in the end begging and pleading with them to leave Cas alone, but he may as well have been talking to a brick wall.
He tried to look for a means of escape but there was no time when they were left without at least four guards and most of the time it was six.
And Cas was hanging on by a thread. They’d done unspeakable things to the angel and Dean had never felt as helpless and useless in his life.
He’d never wanted to die before, not really, but now, now he just wanted oblivion. Except that probably meant Hell, and he wasn’t sure if Hell was better than this.
The arch-demon returned every so often. Sometimes he spoke, sometimes he laughed, sometimes he just stood there and watched, unmoved and unmoving as Dean screamed and cursed and begged and pleaded.
“Please, for god’s sake, please stop, or kill us! You’re killing him anyway. What do you want? Just tell me what you want?”
He hadn’t even realised he was on his knees.
Suddenly the air seemed to flicker and waver and for a second Dean thought he was somewhere else.
Then a whole lot of things happened at once.
The room was filled with the kind of blinding light that could only mean one thing and Dean had the presence of mind to close his eyes. When he opened them again he was surrounded by people, and not just any old people, either: Sam, Rufus, hunters Dean recognised, hunters he didn’t, even Bobby was there in his wheelchair, and in the middle of them all was Gabriel. Dean blinked several times and desperately hoped this rescue was real and not some kind of trick, but Sam was real enough and Dean trusted his brother.
It was a well planned rescue mission, go Sammy and Gabe. The fight was brief and brutal; with the emphasis less on ganking demons, though that was always good, and more on getting them out of the way so that they could free Cas and hopefully leave. Despite being horribly weak Dean managed to do his bit. He took out two of the bastards who had been working on Cas and then yelled at Sam to help him get Cas down.
They did it as gently as they could.
And then there was a familiar lurch and they were all back at Bobby’s. Dean looked around, frantically until he saw that Gabriel had Cas in his arms. This was no trick, they really were free, back at Bobby’s with Cas.
“It’s real, Dean,” Sam spoke directly into Dean’s ear; it was enough.
“Put him on the bed,” Bobby indicated his own bed, moved downstairs into the corner of the old sitting room now that Bobby wasn’t going upstairs anymore. He nodded at Rufus who herded the other hunters outside and they heard the sounds of car doors slamming and engines coming to life as the hunters left. There would be time for thanks later.
Gabriel laid Cas down gently, setting his limbs straight and smoothing the hair off his face, all the time wearing an unreadable expression on his face.
“Can you heal him?” Dean asked softly, Sam all but holding him up.
“Some. I can do enough for his physical form to make sure he lives,” Gabriel trailed off and looked away.
“But,” Dean shot back.
“He’s been violated in ways no angel should ever have to endure. I… I don’t know if… if he’ll even…” Gabriel stopped and turned back to look at Dean, his eyes full of something Dean had never thought to see on this particular angel’s face.
“If he’ll want to live? That’s what you’re trying to say, isn’t it? You think he might prefer death.”
Gabriel nodded. “It happens sometimes.”
“Heal him.” There was no hesitation and Dean’s voice was hard. “Heal him. I’ll… I’ll make sure he wants to live.”
Gabriel looked at him for a long minute and Dean saw the aeons of existence behind eyes that usually danced with malice and mirth. Age, but not necessarily wisdom. It was frightening to see. There were hundreds of questions that needed answering here, but right now Dean only wanted one thing.
“Heal him. Please!”
Gabriel continued to look at Dean, as if he was trying to read him and finding it hard, then he nodded once more and turned back to the bed. “It won’t be easy, convincing him.”
“It never is,” Dean muttered and finally allowed Sam to lower him into a chair. He watched carefully as Gabriel got to work. Cas appeared unconscious but Dean heard Gabriel tell him quietly to stop fighting him and let him do all the work.
“Being able to heal the vessel is instinctive in an angel, but Castiel’s power has drastically diminished since he turned his back on Heaven. And he never was the greatest angel-”
Dean growled.
Gabriel smiled. “Down boy. I was going to say that maybe there was always more to him than the rest of us realised. Hid his light under a bushel, you might say. Somehow I wasn’t so surprised when it was him that pulled you from Hell. The others were, but not me. Zach always, always underestimated him. Even now.”
Sam flinched and Dean wondered why, but it was just another in the myriad of questions running through his brain.
Healing Cas didn’t take Gabriel long, considering the extent of his injuries.
“There. He’ll live.” Gabriel shrugged and stepped away from the bed, but Dean didn’t miss the oddly gentle caress before he released Cas’ hand.
“Thanks.” Dean looked around the room, for the first time since they got back.
“It’ll be a while ‘til he wakes up and when he does, you’re on your own, buddy.”
Dean nodded, “Fair enough.”
The silence that followed was awkward. No one knew quite where to look. Dean was aware that he was still a stinking mess, but having seen to Castiel he now wanted answers.
“So is anyone gonna tell me how the hell we came to be rescued by a cavalry of hunters and an archangel?”
Not surprisingly, it was Sam who spoke up. “I couldn’t find you, Dean. At the concert. You were there one minute then the next you were just gone. At first I thought it was just the crowd, then I thought that Cas had spirited you away for some reason, but when neither of you were answering your cell phones and you didn’t turn up back at the car, I called Bobby in case Cas had mojo’ed you back here. He hadn’t.
“There were no clues, anywhere. It was like you’d vanished off the face of the Earth. To be honest we were getting pretty frantic. Then this demon turned up and things got really weird for a while but that’s a whole other story.”
“One that you will be telling me though, after I’ve had a shower,” Dean broke in.
“Okay, okay, yeah, sure. Anyway, the upshot of it all was that Gabriel and this demon that had turned up had been involved in some kind of mini war of their own, right when the demon had gotten orders to come hassle me. Gabriel turned up after him and I ended up telling him what had happened.”
Sam broke off and looked at Gabriel as if expecting him to take up the tale.
It was a while before anyone spoke.
“Yeah, I wasn’t pleased when my bit of personal fun time got interrupted so I came along to see what was so important that Perdith would duck out on me. And when I found out who he’d been sent to play with I decided the sooner I got you back the sooner I could get back to getting on with my own life.” The Trickster was back now. The archangel persona gone with a head tilt, a shrug and a sardonic grin that still set Dean’s teeth on edge.
“So that’s it. You decided to help Sam find us because your most recent pissing contest got interrupted.”
“Yep, that’s about it.” The grin grew wider.
Dean sighed and resisted the temptation to hit someone; he was in enough pain as it was. “Try again guys, even I don’t believe that.”
Sam looked away, looked guilty, looked like he did when there was something he didn’t know how to say.
“How about we go for a do over, only with the truth this time,” Dean wasn’t giving up.
“Dean,” the archangel was back again now. “You don’t want the truth, believe me.”
“Actually, I do.”
“Dean…” that was Sam’s soothing voice. So not working.
“Guys, what the hell are you not telling me here?”
Sam looked at Gabriel and then at Castiel. He nodded his head in the direction of the other room.
“Okay.” Dean hauled himself up and followed. “So?” He spoke the minute they were out of the lounge slash bedroom.
Another long look between Sam and the archangel then Sam turned his sad-eyed gaze on Dean.
“They weren’t demons, Dean.”
“Huh… who weren’t?”
“The ones who took you, they weren’t demons.”
Dean felt his eyes widen.
“O-kay… So we have a new big bad on the block. If they weren’t demons, what were they?”
Sam sighed and looked at Dean, catching his eyes and holding them, until…
They weren’t demons. Dean felt sick, really really sick. He could feel the bile rising in the back of his throat. “You mean?” The words wouldn’t come. “You’re telling me that the monsters who took us, who did that to Castiel…” He couldn’t bring himself to actually say it.
“Yeah… ”
Dean sat down heavily when his legs refused to cooperate anymore.
“Did Cas know?” He voiced the question, but he already knew the answer.
“Oh yeah, he must have. Even with his diminished powers he would have known instantly that they were angels posing as demons. Doing it pretty well too, they’d have fooled anyone except another angel.” Gabriel’s tone was flat.
“Sonofabitch!” Dean hunched forwards, but it was no good. “I need the bathroom.” Sam grabbed him and propelled him into Bobby’s bathroom, where he threw up violently for the next several minutes. When he was done he rinsed his mouth and then decided to go the whole hog, clean his teeth and take a shower. He needed one, and it would give him some alone time to get his head around everything he’d just heard.
In other circumstances he would have lingered under the hot spray and relished cleaning ten days worth of crap (literally) from his skin, but he still had questions he wanted answering and he wouldn’t put it past Gabriel to just fly off and leave him hanging.
Sam must have heard the shower because the bathroom door opened and Sam spoke.
“Clean clothes, Dean.”
“Thanks.”
He took a few seconds to appreciate the clothes as he dressed, and then went back to the others and hopefully some more answers.
The first thing he noticed was that although Gabriel was technically in the room with Sam and Bobby he was basically standing guard in the doorway to where Cas lay. It said a lot that the archangel was so concerned.
“That’s why you told me he might not want to live, isn’t it, because it was his family doing that to him.” Dean didn’t give anyone the chance to deflect him from finding out what he wanted to know.
Gabriel nodded.
“Why’d they do it? I mean, I guess they thought it would persuade me to be Michael’s angel condom, but…” Dean couldn’t get any further.
“You don’t respond all that well to personal threats, Dean, let’s face it; we’ve all tried and torturing you just makes you more stubborn. You do respond when someone threatens your family, though. Dean Winchester always puts his family first, so they went after the person they thought would be your biggest weakness.”
Dean frowned, “So why Cas, why not take Sammy?”
Sam rolled his eyes.
Dean felt like he’d been punched, again, but he had to put that particular discussion aside for now. He didn’t love Cas more than Sammy, it was just different. He wasn’t stupid, he remembered that they’d been told by a couple of demons that Sam was off limits, so, yeah, maybe it all made sense, in a sick, twisted kind of way.
“But they’re his family, his brothers. I mean… how could they?”
“We get what we want, Dean. Always have, always will, or until Daddy gets back, if ever. Ends justify the means and all that. They probably told him again they were doing it because they loved him.”
“Again!?” Dean didn’t think he could possibly feel any worse, but he suddenly did.
“They hauled him back once before, remember. Likely as not they did something similar then. Maybe not as bad, but…” Gabriel shrugged.
Dean swore. Anna had told him, but he hadn’t really registered what she’d meant and he’d never thought to ask Cas.
“You guys really are the biggest douche bags…” Words failed and Dean just shook his head. “Look, thanks for what you did. It probably hasn’t made you too popular with the Heavenly Host.”
One side of Gabriel’s mouth quirked up in response. “You didn’t have to turn on that sprinkler system.” Only an archangel could make a thank-you sound like an insult, but then this was Gabriel, the Trickster, the archangel who ran out on Heaven because he couldn’t stand the family in-fighting. Gabriel hesitated, probably for the first time in centuries. “Do you… do you mind if I pop back occasionally to…” He turned to look at Castiel.
“See how he’s doing?” Dean was surprised and let it show. He still didn’t trust Gabriel, in spite of everything.
Gabriel nodded.
“Why’d you want to?”
“He’s my brother.”
Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. He knew he was being played, but Gabriel had helped Sam rescue them; without him Cas would probably be dead by now and he’d be wearing Michael to the prom. “Provided that’s all you come to do.”
The archangel raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, pax; for now, anyway.”
“Okay.”
“See y’around.” And with that the archangel Gabriel was gone. Dean didn’t trust him and wasn’t sure he ever would, but…
At least Cas was safe for now.
Recovery, Day 1
It was three days before Cas regained consciousness.
Dean was with him when he finally opened his eyes.
“Hey, you’re back.”
Cas sat up. His upper body came up all in one piece, like a puppet on a string.
“Whoa, steady on. You’ve been out cold for a while, buddy.”
“I am fine.” He swung his legs 'round the side of the bed and stood up. And immediately sat down again, a puzzled look on his face.
“Or maybe not, eh.” Dean sat beside him. “Maybe you should stay in bed and rest for a while. You took quite a hammering back there.”
Cas thought about it and then settled back on the bed. “Perhaps you are right. I will rest and regain my strength.”
Dean grinned. “I’ll get you some pie.”
“I do not need…”
“Uh-uh!” Dean wagged a finger at him. “Pie’ll help you feel better.”
Cas nodded weakly.
Recovery, Day 2
Of course Cas didn’t stay in bed.
He appeared at breakfast the next morning dressed in his old ensemble minus the jacket, tie and trench coat. Dean gave him a sweater. It was a nice one, pale blue and incredibly soft. Almost new too, since sweaters weren’t something Dean wore that often.
“Thank-you.”
Dean smiled, “You’re welcome.”
When Cas put the sweater on, Dean didn’t say it looked far better on Cas than it ever had on him.
Recovery, Day 3
Cas hadn’t flown off yet. Dean took that as a good sign and tried to include him in everything that went on at Bobby’s, from the cleaning and cooking to the planning of their next move. Together they moved him into the upstairs bedroom next to Dean so Bobby could have his room back.
Cas wasn’t saying much, except to answer direct questions, but he was there and that was enough for now.
He wore the blue sweater all day, too.
Recovery, Day 4
Bobby asked Cas to help with some further research into the Four Horsemen. They were assuming that, having already let two out of the bag, Lucifer intended setting the remaining two loose and Bobby was trying to get ahead of the game as to the how and the where.
Cas seemed quite happy to help. He spent the day huddled in his blue sweater in the corner of Bobby’s study, poring over old books and manuscripts, carefully marking anything that might be useful and making meticulous notes which he passed to Bobby at the end of the day.
“You’re not bad at this, are you?” The only answer Bobby got was the usual head tilt and nod.
Recovery, Day 5
For himself, Dean was recovering okay. He’d slept a good deal, eaten his way through most of Bobby’s food stocks, and now he wanted to get out for a while.
“You wanna come into town, Cas? Sam and me’re going grocery shopping for Bobby. We could get you some more clothes and grab a burger somewhere while we’re there.”
Cas looked at Dean for a while, unblinking, before he nodded and went and got a jacket, which was actually an old one of Dean’s.
Dean wasn’t sure how on board with the trip Cas was, but he seemed okay in the car and when they got to town he pushed the grocery trolley 'round the store while Dean and Sam loaded it with all the things they needed to replace for Bobby and anything else they fancied besides. Dean tried to get Cas interested in the various food items but he said he had no preference for any one thing over another, so in the end they just got things they thought he might like to try. Dean would eat them either way.
At the clothes section Cas let Dean select him jeans and t-shirts, underwear and shoes. They got him a new coat too, even though Dean was pretty sure angels didn’t exactly feel the cold.
Dean knew why he was doing all this, of course. He didn’t need the lecture Sam was gearing up to giving him, about guilt and trying to make things right by showering Cas with stuff he didn’t need and probably didn’t want, but for now it eased the ache that had settled in his chest. An ache that sharpened to a piercing pain every time he looked into Cas' eyes and saw the hurt, the loss and the horror that lurked in the dull blue depths.
Recovery, Day 6
Cas was still there.
He wore some of his new clothes, and Dean’s blue sweater.
Recovery, Day 7
Dean decided he was fully healed and headed outside to work on the Impala.
Cas sat in the window and helped Bobby with the research. Later he tried his hand at making burgers. It was Bobby’s idea, but Dean wasn’t too sure. Though Cas didn’t really need to eat he seemed okay with it.
The burgers were okay, too.
Recovery, Day 8
Gabriel dropped by and was surprised that Cas was up and about. He talked with Dean outside.
“He isn’t really talking much yet, but he came into town with us and he’s helping Bobby with some research. And he made burgers the other day.”
Gabriel smirked at the burger information. “He’s still with you, which is surprising.”
Dean let that one go. He wasn’t going to discuss his greatest fear, that they’d wake up one morning to find Cas’ bed empty and the angel gone, certainly not with Gabriel.
“Any idea when he’ll start talking to us properly again?”
“Nope, not a clue. He should never have gotten off that bed except to cast himself into the Heavens, from whence never to return. So, flying blind here, literally, outside my area of expertise, I’m afraid.”
Dean nodded and slumped a bit. He’d been hoping for more useful information from Gabriel.
“Hey, he’s still here, so you gotta be doing something right, right?”
Dean hoped so. Gabriel tossed him a jaunty salute and winked out.
Recovery, Day 9
Bobby got a call early in the morning from a couple of hunters in over their heads with a nest of vampires the next state over.
Dean and Sam hit the road before Cas was up and about. With the Winchester brothers on the case, they and the two hunters soon had the vampires all despatched. The brothers begged off the celebratory beer and were back at Bobby’s later that night. Dean didn’t want to be away from Cas for too long and he had a momentary panic when Cas wasn’t there to greet them.
“Where’s Cas?”
Bobby sighed and nodded towards the stairs. “Don’t think he was too keen on you leaving without saying anything. Actually, don’t think he was keen on you leaving at all, Dean.”
“Aw, shit!” Dean headed for the stairs. They’d been leaving Cas pretty much to do whatever he wanted most of the time. He joined them at breakfast and pottered around with them the rest of the day, generally heading back off to bed when Dean did. Cas wasn’t human and no one had been able to tell them how to help an angel come to terms with what had happened so Dean figured they were best giving Cas his space and letting him deal his own way.
Once upstairs he tapped on Cas’ bedroom door.
“Cas? Cas! Can I come in?”
No answer.
“Please?”
Dean thought he heard a faint rustle from the other side of the door. He was tired, achy and covered in vampire stink and not really in the mood for angel histrionics. He’d only been away for one day, for God’s sake.
“Look, I’m coming in, okay?”
Dean pushed the door open and peered round. Cas was there, still in his sleep attire, sitting on the wide windowsill with his arms around his knees, gazing out into the night.
“Hey.” He crossed the room to the window. “You okay?” It was a bit of a stupid question as Cas was obviously far from okay, but Dean wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Come on, dude. Talk to me. What’s the matter?”
Cas turned from the window and looked at him. What he saw made Dean step back and wonder if he should just leave. There was no way he could fix this. This was beyond him, out of his league, in a whole other ballpark.
He’d seen this dead-eyed Cas before. In another time, a future Dean spent much of his present trying to prevent, Dean had sent this Cas to his death. A merciful release? Dean didn’t know. And Cas had gone, willingly, knowingly and without question, for Dean, just as he’d flown into Hell, for Dean, just as he’d gone to Zachariah’s torture chamber. It wasn’t quite the same as that future. This Cas wasn’t drugged out of his angel mind, boozed up on absinthe and amphetamines, but this, what he saw here could so easily be the start. All the good bits of humanity, the care, the feelings, the fun stuff they were trying to share with him, all the things worth fighting for, family, friends… love. It had all been coming to him slowly, a steady dawn of realisation about what made humanity human and good and now, now it was gone. All Dean could see now was dread, horror, devastation, revulsion, pain; such incredible pain. This wasn’t the cynical age-without-wisdom he’d seen in Gabriel’s eyes that had been so frightening, this was a void filled with everything bad. He remembered reading somewhere that ‘the loss of all hope was the worst thing,’ and that loss was what he was looking at now.
Cas had been cast out, abandoned, hunted; but before, even when everything seemed so bad, he’d always had this tiny flicker of hope, of faith. Faith in Dean, faith in himself and hope that he would find his father, find God. And his fucking douchebag family had destroyed that.
Dean couldn’t repair this damage. Had no idea what had made him think he could in the first place.
Instinct kicked in - flight.
“Want me to leave you alone?”
When there was no answer to the contrary Dean turned and started to walk towards the door.
“Dean. Dean!”
That voice, rough, broken, yet saying his name as if, as if it meant something. As if Dean really could do something.
Heal him. I’ll… I’ll make sure he wants to live. He was a fool. What had he been thinking? How the hell was he gonna make an angel want to stick around? Cocky, arrogant jackass Dean Winchester, who the hell did he think he was? Why would Castiel, Angel of the Lord want to stick around him? Hadn’t the poor bastard been through enough? Done enough already?
And yet…
He’s still here, so you gotta be doing something right. Gabriel’s words echoed in Dean’s head. Cas was still here. If he’d wanted to go, today would have been the perfect chance.
Cas was still here. Still trying. And Dean had said he’d make sure he wanted to live. It wasn’t exactly a promise, only it was, actually. If Cas was still here, then Dean had to keep trying, had to be there for him, be whatever Cas needed him to be.
Decision made, Dean turned around. “What do you want, Cas? What can I do?”
He went back to the window and crouched down beside the angel. “Tell me. Anything you want. If I can do it, it’s yours.”
Cas was silent for a long time; Dean’s knees were beginning to complain so he shifted to sit on the other end of the sill and waited.
“You want a blanket or something? S’getting chilly now.”
Cas shook his head and it was then that Dean caught sight of a sliver of blue wool trapped between Cas' knees and chest. They’d bought Cas a few changes of clothes but there was one item he’d worn every day since Dean had given it to him. He’d just thought Cas liked the sweater, it was one of the few good pieces of clothing Dean had. He knew he liked Cas wearing it, not that he’d admit that to anyone, of course. Now he wondered if there was more to it than that.
“You pissed at me because we went on a job? Didn’t want to wake you that early to tell you about it, you need your rest, and Bobby knew where we were.” Cas didn’t say anything but he kept looking steadily at Dean. “Should I have called?”
What the fuck? Dean had no idea why he’d just said that. Since when did he call to say he’d be home soon; he’d stopped doing that when Sammy was a teenager.
“Yes.”
Dean tried to cover his double take. He’d promised to make Castiel want to live, after all, he’d never been good at the whole calling to say where he was shit. Bobby complained constantly about it to him, but what would it cost him to at least try, for Cas.
“Okay. No promises, but I’ll try and remember in future.”
Dean didn’t think Cas had stared at him for this long since the early days, over a year ago.
“You gonna get into bed now?”
“No.”
“Dude?”
Cas went back to looking out the window. Dean blew out a long breath, he was at a loss. He needed a shower and some sleep, but he didn’t want to leave Cas like this. He’d thought they were doing okay. Thought Cas was doing okay, but obviously they weren’t as okay as he’d thought. And despite his resolve, Dean wasn’t sure what to do.
“Look, I need a shower, get rid of the vampire stink, so I’ll just go get one and be right back, okay?”
Was that a nod? Dean wasn’t sure, but he took it as one.
“Just don’t go anywhere, please.”
He was pretty sure that was a nod.
Sam was waiting for him out on the landing.
“How is he?”
“I dunno. Weird. Just sitting in the window. I think I pissed him off when I didn’t tell him we were going off for the day and now he’s having some kind of weird angel crisis.”
Sam nodded.
“Should we have woken him and told him? I thought he needed to rest.”
“He does, but maybe he needed you to explain what was happening more.”
“Oh come on, he’s a grown up angel, not a child.”
“Dean, think about it. He’s been tortured beyond anything any human could endure and since we got back he’s hardly let you out of his sight.”
“Sam, he’s been with Bobby and the books most of the time.”
“True, but downstairs is pretty open plan now to accommodate Bobby’s chair and he always sat where he could see you, even if he was watching you through the window while you worked on the car.”
Dean frowned. “You sure?”
“Pretty sure, yes.”
“And you didn’t think to say anything.”
“I’m sorry, I only just realised it. I noticed the other day, when you went out to change the plugs that he shifted to the window, but I didn’t realise why until…”
“Aw, fuck.”
Sam’s face softened. “You didn’t know, Dean, and he hasn’t exactly been saying a lot, has he.”
“No, but I should have realised.”
“You think this might have been what Gabriel meant?”
“When he said I was on my own after he’d done his angel mojo healing thing? Yeah. Sonofabitch could’ve told us more.”
“Hey, it’s only because of him you and Cas are here, so… And I think this ‘angelic crisis’ would have happened sooner or later anyway.”
“Yeah, I guess. Look, I told Cas I was gonna shower and then I’d be back, could you?”
“Okay, although I’m not really what he wants.”
“I won’t be long, and I just don’t think he should be alone right now. Just make sure he doesn’t fly off, okay?”
Sam nodded.
Dean may not have set a new world record for showering and dressing but he was still pretty fast. When he got back to Cas’ room Sam was sitting on the other end of the sill and Cas was at least uncurled and looking at him.
“Hey, you guys okay?”
Sam got up and relinquished his place to Dean. “I was just asking Cas if he wanted a drink or something.”
“Good idea, you gonna bring us something up?”
“That was the idea.”
Sam was back minutes later with a tray holding hot drinks, a bottle of Jack's and a plate of sandwiches.
“Courtesy of Bobby.”
“Thanks.”
Dean handed Cas a steaming mug and poured himself some whiskey as Sam slipped quietly from the room. They drank in silence. It wasn’t exactly companionable but Dean thought it could have been worse.
“You ready to hit the hay now?” Dean asked when Cas placed his empty mug on the sill between them.
Cas nodded and went to the bed. Dean kept his mouth firmly shut when the angel carefully folded the blue sweater and placed it under his pillow before getting into bed.
He munched on a sandwich and wondered if he should leave or stay until Cas dozed or slept or had an out of body experience or whatever it was angels did for sleep.
“Dean.” Cas’ rumble startled him out of his thoughts.
“What do you need?”
He crossed to the bed and sat on the edge. The angel didn’t say anything; he just looked from the empty side of the bed to Dean and tilted his head.
Dean swallowed. “You want me to stay?”
Cas kept looking at Dean, and there was no way Dean could refuse those eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His life had never been ordinary so why not add ‘sleeping with an angel’ to the list of weird shit he’d done in his time. It was a big enough bed.
“I hope you don’t snore.” Dean pulled back the covers, got into bed and tried not to chuckle at the affronted look on Cas’ face.
“Night, Cas.”
Recovery, Day 10
When Dean woke early the following morning Cas was still asleep. In the night the angel had curled in towards him. They weren’t cuddling exactly but they were touching in a few places and Dean was surprisingly okay with that. Cas looked small and vulnerable, tousled, young almost and Dean had to resist the urge to run his fingers through the mop of dark hair. Dean’s protective instinct had been honed from an early age and it came out full force as he looked at Cas. He’d always thought Cas didn’t really need him; he was an angel, millennia old and more than capable of taking care of himself, but without Heaven it was possible that in some ways Cas was as vulnerable as he and Sam were. We’ll all be hunted. The words echoed in Dean’s head. And I did it, all of it, for you. And you failed. And I lost everything, for nothing!
He was trying to make things right, dammit. Not that they were having much success so far, and he had no idea what the future held for any of them. All he knew was what he didn’t want, and right now a repeat of what had happened to Cas was at the top of the list along with preventing the future Zachariah had shown him a few months ago.
Dean squeezed his eyes shut. He needed Cas. He might as well admit it. Was he being selfish? Had his own selfish desire been the motivation for what he’d said to Gabriel? He’d been so certain he could pull Cas through this, help him recover, help him believe again, but after what he’d seen last night, he wasn’t so sure.
When he turned to look at the angel again he found himself looking into his dark blue eyes.
“Hey.”
When Cas didn’t respond Dean’s heart started up a tattoo against his ribs.
“You feeling any better this morning?”
Cas gazed at him, unblinking.
“Why, Dean?”
And here it was. He’d known it would happen sooner of later; the talk. This conversation had been coming for ten days and Dean had no more answers than he had back then.
“Why, what?” Dean stalled for time. Not that it did him any good. The answers weren’t going to pop magically into his head just because Cas had asked the question.
Cas didn’t answer, just continued to look at Dean.
“I…” Dean sighed and punched the pillow. “I just… I just wanted another chance, okay?”
Cas managed a head tilt even with his head resting on a pillow.
“Oh, the hell. I was being selfish. I… I told you before. I can’t do this alone, it’s too big.”
He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed but found himself held in an iron grip when Cas’ hand closed around his forearm.
“I have to know, Dean. I have to be sure. You told Gabriel you’d make sure I wanted to live. Why? I’m nothing compared to what I used to be, probably even less now than I was before.” Cas’ voice cracked, a rough, broken sound that made Dean want to scream with rage and curl up and die at the same time.
“You’re not nothing, not less than anything. You left Heaven to help me and that makes you better than any of those dicks. I don’t have any answers, Cas, not really. Not good answers. All I can say is… because… because I want you to stay. Because I need you!” Dean forced the words from his throat. “Because I’ve lost too many and I’m not losing someone else I care about. I’m… I’m just not!”
It was only when he tried to stand that he realised Cas still had hold of his arm. The angel’s hand slipped a little down to Dean’s hand, but he still didn’t let go. Somewhere in the turmoil that was Dean’s mind he realised he was holding hands with an angel.
“So, it’s all about what you want?” Cas voice was harsh.
He should have seen that one coming. “No! And don’t you dare fly off in a huff on me, you feathery jerk. We were friends, partners, and I thought… when we weren’t fighting this frigging apocalypse I thought we had…” Dean ran out of steam and ran his other hand through his short hair. “We were doing stuff together, normal stuff, fun stuff, even that damned rock concert.”
“They would have taken us from anywhere, Dean. The concert had nothing to do with it.”
Dean nodded. Cas was right about that.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, Cas.” Dean didn’t want to give up. Didn’t want someone else to give up on him, and leave, but he knew he had no rights over Castiel. If ever Cas had owed him anything, and he hadn’t, he’d repaid it a million times over, and Dean had no right to ask for more. Even angels got tired, Raphael had told them that. He couldn’t blame Cas if he wanted out. “If you really want to, fling yourself into the void or whatever it is you guys do to commit suicide, I guess… well, I guess I have no right to stop you. I shouldn’t have said what I said to Gabriel.”
Cas looked away and then back at Dean, and if anything the grip on his hand got tighter.
“If I’d wanted to do that I would have done it. You would not have been able to stop me.”
Frowning, Dean shook his head. “So… why?”
“Why didn’t I? Why am I asking? Because I can be selfish too, Dean.”
It took Dean a full minute to process Cas’ words. To get to what he was really saying.
“Oh.” And that was an inadequate response if ever there was one. Dean swivelled round so he was facing Cas properly. He wrapped Cas’ hand in both of his. “You saying you’re giving me another chance?”
“You don’t need another chance, Dean, nor will you.” Cas looked down at their joined hands then back at Dean. “Gabriel was right; it will not be easy for me, for us.”
Relief washed over Dean like a whole ocean at once. He felt weak with it, drained.
“So what else is new? Nothing’s ever easy for us.” He managed a cheeky grin and got a soft, tentative smile in return.
It was too soon to kiss. Cas certainly wasn’t ready for that, and neither was Dean, but he held Cas’ hand in both of his and just looked into his eyes, promising without words that he’d try his best.
Recovery, Day 257
They got back to Bobby’s late in the afternoon, all three of them in the Impala together. Cas could have flown, but he’d claimed the back seat and travelled with them more these days. The apocalypse was still going strong but they’d managed to put a dent in Lucifer’s plans to raise Pestilence and were returning to Bobby’s to regroup and plan their next step. Sam had a sprained wrist and Dean some cuts and bruises. Thankfully, Cas was injury free.
“Hey, boys,” Bobby greeted them the minute they opened the door. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, Bobby. Sam’ll need something for his wrist.” Dean snickered as he spoke and got an eye roll from Cas and a glower from Sam in return. “And we all need a shower, but for once…” Dean glanced at the uninjured Cas as he trailed off and Bobby nodded, relief written all over his face. Cas didn’t need protecting, but Dean always took it badly when he got so much as a scratch.
“Well, ya’ll know where the bathroom is. Oh, and Cas, there’s some mail for you on the dresser.” Bobby nodded to the one surface not covered with books by the window overlooking the front of the yard, where a white envelope lay with ‘Mr C. Winchester' and Bobby’s address typed neatly on the label.
Dean and Sam both blinked in surprise.
“Mail, Cas?”
“Actually, it’s for you, Dean.” Cas handed Dean the envelope.
Dean took it but didn’t open it, although the name on the envelope made his insides do funny things. “Um, it’s addressed to you.”
“I know, but I got the contents for you,” Cas succeeded in looking both worried and hopeful at the same time.
Dean shrugged and tore open the envelope. Inside were three tickets.
“Cas!” Dean’s grin turned into a megawatt smile as he showed Sammy the tickets for a Metallica concert the following month.
When the angel saw Dean’s reaction his worried expression morphed into a shy smile.
“C’mon.” Dean grabbed Cas by the arm and pulled him up the stairs towards his bedroom. They’d been building up to this for months and Dean decided now was the time. He didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate, didn’t ask and he certainly didn’t think, because that would have made it all too complicated. He just pulled an unresisting Cas into his arms and kissed him.