Stockholm Syndrome ch. 7/?
Title: Stockholm Syndrome
Author: earth_heart
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13 for this chapter
Genre: Dark!fic, kidnapping, demons and angels
Warnings: Slight abuse, weakened angel, D/s themes
Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters do not belong to me, they belong to Eric Kripke and the CW/WB. I make no profit from this story.
Summary: Stockholm Syndrome: -noun Psychiatry . an emotional attachment to a captor formed by a hostage as a result of continuous stress, dependence, and a need to cooperate for survival. In which Dean is a demon who kidnaps the angel Castiel because he wants him, and Castiel comes to love Dean because he can’t remember anything but the demon.
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Chapter 7: We’re all just fucking crazy
“Castiel, look at me. Please, brother.”
Castiel kept his back to her, huddled in on himself as his wings hid him from sight. The Seraph stared down at his blood-iron shackles; once so bothersome but now all he had to remember Dean.
When she touched his wing he surged up, letting out an angry yell. Rolling away from her, he landed on the other side of the bed and crouched there, glaring across the mattress at her.
“You do not touch me.” he snarled. “You never touch me. Ever. You are not Dean.”
“The demon has twisted your mind and heart.” she replied, her eyes hard. “He did not love you, Castiel. He simply wanted a toy to parade around and call his own.”
“Liar!” he screamed, his true voice making the floor shudder. “Dean loves me! It was you who wanted a toy; nothing more than a soldier to throw out as cannon fodder! I was never happy until Dean saved me! Get the Hell out.”
The Seraph glared at him, but she left. Castiel curled up on the floor, tears running down his face as he rubbed his cheeks against the shackles. Reaching out with his mind, he ducked and weaved through all the other voices that tried to brush against him. Oh, Dean...
Cas? came the startled response. The complete feeling of Dean filled him, and Castiel sat bolt upright. Cas, was that you?
Oh, Dean! Dean. I want you so badly, but they won’t believe me. They keep saying you twisted me to your own needs and pleasures. You didn’t, though, I know you didn’t. Please, please; get me out of here.
Don’t worry, Cas. We’re coming for ya. Dean’s love and worry filled him, and Castiel whined happily, his wings arching in delight. We’re making a plan, and then we’re gonna get you out as soon as possible. Do you trust me, angel?
With my life, Dean. Castiel swore. It was true; he trusted the demon far more than he trusted these angels now. What do you need me to do?
Nothing right now, angel. If you thought too much about it, they’d pick it up from your thoughts. Just keep doing what you have been. I love you, Cas, but I’ve got to go right now. Okay, angel?
Alright, Dean. Please, hurry though. Castiel retreated after one last brush against Dean’s mind. The separation was even more stressful now that he’d felt Dean. Remembering Dean’s words he carefully shut down the link between himself and the other angels.
When the female Seraph returned, she eyed Castiel; he refused to look at her, though. Hunching over, he drew his wings around him, hiding himself beneath the black-brown feathers.
“Castiel, we cannot remove the blood-iron shackles.” she said gently, and he heard her walking closer to him. She did not touch him, which was good. “Only the blood of the demon who placed them upon you will break them. Your grace will be restricted until we can figure out another way.”
“Whatever. Leave me alone.” he retorted.
“Brother, you need not be so hostile with us. We are your family, and we came to rescue you because of that.”
“Lying is a sin, you know. The only reason you came to Hell was because of the Archangel. How you found me is another matter and question entirely.”
“All of Hell is a moving, living force.” she replied, and the bed creaked as she sat on it. “We found a portion that was completely still, though, and warded powerfully. We went to investigate, and we found you. Can’t you be happy about that?”
“No, I can’t. I was in no danger, and I was happy. You’ve made me incredibly unhappy now. I want Dean.”
“You’re whining like a fledgeling.” she snapped, her voice sharp with anger. “We’ll make you see the truth soon enough, brother.” With a rustling of wings, she was gone.
“No, you won’t.” Castiel muttered defiantly.
“Where the Hell is he?” Dean demanded, pacing. He was jittery and restless after his little mind-talk with his angel, and now he wanted to get to the Seraph even more. “Dammit, Sammy, it’s been, like, an hour!”
“It’s been fifteen minutes, Dean. Calm down, alright? Azazel said he was going to go get something that would help us, and you know Azazel keeps his word.”
“Thank you so much for the vote of confidence, Sammy.” Azazel said from behind them. Dean whirled around to face the fallen angel, his tail lashing. He came down quickly, however, when he saw what the yellow-eyed demon was holding.
“Are those angel swords?” he demanded, looking at them. They were beautiful, that was for sure. One was just a straight, third-dimension triangular piece with a plain, leather-wrapped hilt. The second one, however, was the one he felt drawn to the most.
It was longer than the first sword, the blade flat like a normal sword. The hilt was gold, studded with sapphires; the blade itself curved slightly. Reaching out, Dean ran a gentle finger over the double-sided piece, feeling how sharp it was. It also had a familiar feeling to it.
“You pick well, boy.” Azazel praised, handing him the sword. “That one belongs to your angel. It’s his fighting sword. This other one belonged to a Grigori. Got this one for you, Sammy.” The demon handed his brother the other sword.
Dean took Castiel’s weapon reverently, running his palm over the flat of the blade and feeling his angel’s power in the steel. Castiel must have crafted this himself, with his own two hands and his grace. “Azazel, how did you find this?” he asked.
“When you captured your angel, you left the sword behind. Luckily no humans found it, but it was hidden pretty well beneath a poor, destroyed sapling. Being made from angelically-forged metals, it won’t rust, dull, or break. You picked a good one, Dean-o.”
“This is awesome!” Sam crowed in delight, thrusting and parrying against the wind with his own angelic weapon. “Not that I’m not grateful, because I’m holding a goddamned angel sword, but why did we need them?”
“Sammy, only an angel, or angelic blade, can kill another angel.” Azazel chided. “I’ve told you about this before, remember?”
“Where’s your weapon then?” Dean asked, pausing in his inspection to look up at Azazel. “You’re coming with us, so where’s your sword?”
Azazel smirked and pulled a weapon from thin air. It was fashioned very much like Castiel’s sword- now Dean’s for the moment-, but the hilt was silver and had only one large tiger’s eye stone. His blade didn’t curve, either, but went straight; it was also longer.
“Perks of still being somewhat of an angel.” the demon announced. “I got to keep my weapon. It’s not as powerful as your boy’s, Dean, but it’ll serve my purpose well enough.”
Nodding, Dean shifted his sword to hold it better; it was heavier than his own weapon, but it was a good weight. It was meant for offensive attacks, not defensive maneuvers and quick thrusts.
“So, are we ready?” Azazel asked. Dean turned to look at the church in front of them. Trust Rome to have an entryway to Heaven. The Roman Church rose high above them, towering in all its Catholic majesty. They wouldn’t be going into the actual church; that was some damn powerful hollow ground. No, the way they wanted to go was through a certain part of the wall.
“I’m ready.” Dean growled, nodding his assent. Beside him, Sammy shifted into his fighting stance, and he saw his little brother nod from the corner of his eye.
“Alright, then; let’s go.” Azazel was grinning, his yellow eyes glowing as he turned and walked right through the wall. Dean strode in right behind him, Sam bringing up the rear.
Alright, walking through a wall was weird. Not crashing into it was stranger. But stepping out on the other side, no longer even on earth? That took the cake. Dean stumbled out onto a beautiful stretch of grass, misty mountains rising on three sides of the valley. Straight ahead was the glory of Heaven, glowing bright and warm.
“So angels live in apartment complexes. That’s not weird at all.” Dean muttered, eyeing the large, sprawling buildings. Even from this distance, he could see angels flying through the sky above the complex. “Where do they work, Wal*Mart?”
“That’s a good one, Dean.” Azazel chuckled, the yellow-eyed demon shaking his head before he began to walk forward. “So, my guess is they already know we’re here. Let’s do be quick about this, then.”
“Right.” Dean agreed, nodding his head. He sent out a tendril of thought.
Cas?
Dean! Castiel cried in delight, lifting his head. Dean, I feel you. You’re so close. You’re in Heaven, aren’t you? The Seraph rolled himself over, pushing into a sitting position. He settled on his knees, legs tucked beneath him; his wings flared out behind him. Be careful, beloved. If I sense you, then the angels surely do.
Got it, Cas. Where are you, angel? Which building? Dean’s mind-voice was confident, filling him with warmth and determination.
I’m in the holding ward. It’s the last building in the complex; smaller than the others, with a red roof. They took me here after I was released from the healing ward so that they could try to re-educate me.
Oh, Cas. My beautiful angel. They’re trying to make you into a mindless soldier again. Don’t worry, babe. We’re coming for you.
I trust you, Dean. I’ll wait for you.
Dean withdrew from his mind and Castiel stood. He immediately began to pace, his wings twitching and flaring out behind him; drawing in close to his back before flaring out again.
A few moments later, the alarm blared. It was fashioned after Michael’s true voice, but it was not the Archangel. Worry prickled through him and Castiel ran to the door, trying to force it open. Of course it would not budge for him, locked from the outside. If he had his full power, maybe he’d be able to simply rip it open, but there was nothing he could do right now.
Suddenly the door opened, causing Castiel to scramble back lest he be struck. The female Seraph stood in the doorway, two other Seraphim behind her. They crowded into the room, shutting the door securely behind them. Another Seraph must have locked it from the outside, then.
“They won’t find you, Castiel.” she said, looking at him with pity. “They’ll die long before they get here. Even if they do somehow manage, we’ll kill you before they can rescue you. Hell does not need another angel, and any who would willingly go must be put down.”
Backing into a corner, Castiel stared at her with wide, horrified eyes. He did not have his sword; he’d lost it all those years ago, and his powers were locked by the blood-iron shackles. If they tried to kill him, there was nothing he could do to stop them.
That made him furious. “So you go through all of that trouble, only to kill me in the end?” he snarled. His wings unfurled to their fullest extent, feathers bristling as he took up an aggressive stance. “That’s the mercy of Heaven? No wonder I was never happy here. There is no love between the angels, only a twisted sense of right and wrong.”
“If you were not so lost, brother, you would understand. I do not want to have to kill you, for we have a history together. However, I must do what is just, because if you were allowed to leave here, you would only hunt us as they do. You’ve become no better than any demon. You’ve fallen, Castiel, and there is no saving you now.”
They began to advance on Castiel, and he looked from one to the next; sizing them up and searching for any weaknesses. He had been Heaven’s best puzzle-debunker, their best at making traps. Even with his diminished powers, there had to be a way for him to out-smart them.
Outside of the room, the alarm wailed on. Now, however, there were distant screams, the sounds quickly coming closer. When the alarm cut off suddenly, one of the Seraphim looked behind him.
Castiel struck. He dodged the female’s grabbing hands and slammed into the distracted Seraph, sending them both to the ground. When the others tried to grab him he beat at them with his wings, driving them back. It was obvious that they still didn’t want to harm him; they would not draw their weapons.
Fingers closing around the joint of the wing arch, Castiel crushed the bone without mercy. The Seraph screamed in agony below him, trying to buck him off. He hung on tightly however, breaking the second wing as well; this time in several places.
One of the Seraphim finally collected himself enough to lunge for Castiel. However, he rolled quickly out of the way and came up, his back against the wall once more.
“You have damned yourself now, Castiel.” the female said sadly. She drew her weapon from thin air. “Deliberately harming one of your brothers; you are lost forever. Do not worry, brother; I will make your death swift.”
She stepped towards him, but paused when the door flew open. Castiel looked from the corner of his eye, and his heart leapt.
“So, did I miss the party?” Dean drawled, leaning against the wall. He was covered in blood, but Castiel could tell that most of it was not his own. The demon was not without wounds, but they were healing quickly. Behind him loomed Sam, his eyes as black as Dean’s. Azazel stood beside the tall demon, his yellow eyes glowing with delight.
“Demons.” the Seraph snarled, turning her attention from Castiel. He watched as she and the other angel lunged towards the demons, his heart clenching with fear.
He need not have worried. As soon as the male Seraph reached Dean his demon dropped down, and Sam plunged a Grigori’s sword through the angel’s throat. The Seraph died with a scream, his grace exploding outwards. When the blinding light faded there was nothing left of the angel but the impression of his wings charred into the ground.
Dean stood again, grinning at the remaining angel. “So,” he said conversationally, “you stole my angel. Not too happy ‘bout that. Care to give him back?”
“He will die for his treason!” the Seraph screamed. Castiel’s eyes widened as she turned and lunged for him.
(OMGI’MAWFUL.)