Unexpected Destinies Chapter 62
Title: Unexpected Destinies
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 2,752
Summary: Dean and Michael try to work out what this unprecedented situation means for them.
PAST
Dean guessed that Michael reached up to brush fingers against his forehead only so that he'd have a warning that it was coming and he was grateful for it. If he'd thought the sensations earlier were weird, they were nothing compared to this. He felt something shift against him as there was a flare of the Grace light spilling into the room. He then flinched as he felt a touch inside of him and he tried to curl himself away from it. Even doing that, it was a struggle not to lash out at the archangel. Logically, he knew what was going on and why, but that didn't help much, not when he felt a foreign presence there.
Although Dean knew that technically all of this was already happening inside of him- freaky as that was- this felt far more intimate somehow. He could only assume that it was because now Michael was actively trying to do something to his very soul instead of merely his meatsuit. The fact that the last time the archangel had touched his soul he'd been sent straight into oblivion didn't help matters either. And God, if his father (or even his younger self) could hear him now, thinking about the difference between a touch to the body and a touch to the soul, he knew they'd instantly try and exorcise him. Hell, probably all of the hunters he'd ever known would have done that with the exception of Sam and Pastor Jim.
Just the thought of Pastor Jim sent a quick flare of pain through Dean. He'd tried not to think too much about him and Caleb after what had happened to them, but that hadn't really worked too well. The fact that they were in the middle of dealing with the Apocalypse sure didn't help matter any as he just knew how big of an assent Pastor Jim would have been. And, while at first he'd been glad that their old friend hadn't been there to see what a joke angels really were when compared to all of the lore on them, he now thought that Pastor Jim would have enjoyed knowing at least a few angels. Oh, who was he kidding, the man would have been over the moon to met those angels that were actually angelic (well at least some of the time anyway). That never failed to elicit a swell of sadness from deep within him.
There was another shift of Grace against him that sent Dean instinctively back, defenses going up.
"Dean."
"I'm trying!" Dean protested. "It's not exactly easy. This isn't like anything I've ever done before, just give me a moment."
With an effort, Dean pushed all other thoughts and distractions from his mind and concentrated on calming himself. Although he didn't need to breathe here, he took several deep breaths, focusing on the concentration exercises that Dad had taught him all those years ago. Slowly he felt himself begin to relax and he wondered absently how he could still almost feel like he had a meatsuit even when he wasn't really getting any input from it. When he'd been in Hell, Alastair had said something about souls basically recreating their own body as that was what they were used to and visualized themselves as. Unfortunately, it had made painful sense at the time and still did in a lot of ways. Soul body aside, though, he was more then ready to reconnect with his real one.
Since he was as relaxed as he figured he'd get, Dean nodded at the archangel. "Try now."
This time when the touch came, Dean still flinched, but he managed to keep himself from either withdrawing or attacking it. The cool, foreign presence slid inside without any of the sparks he'd felt earlier and he wondered if that was because he'd gotten used to it or because Michael had completed that connection he'd talked about earlier. He remained tense, but found that he was calming fractionally when nothing bad happened immediately.
"Michael?"
"Just a moment more, Little One."
Dean scowled, now that he wasn't as distracted as earlier- and was actually looking for something to distract himself with- he latched onto the odd new nickname. "Dude, don't call me that."
He felt a ripple of what felt distinctly like amusement coming from Michael.
"As I recall, my requesting you to cease addressing me as either Mikey or Mike was countered by your desire to call me that regardless of my wishes. Why should I act any differently now?"
Okay that was so not cool. Dean's scowl grew as he remembered all of the times he'd said some variant of that to the archangel. He could also easily recall how smug he'd been then. That just figured.
"I'm not little," Dean replied petulantly.
Michael, the bastard, actually laughed at that. "Dean, I am older then you can possibly comprehend. I was created before Time itself and was the First, to me you are hopelessly young."
"Yeah, well not for a human I'm not. In fact, in human years I've already lived about as long as the average American man, what with those forty years downstairs."
There was a flicker of something from Michael at those words, but it was gone so fast that Dean wasn't able to decipher what it was. Then, before he could pursue it, something seemed to click into place and suddenly the room they were in vanished to be replaced with the actual room as it was now, as evidenced by the presence of both Castiel and Raphael. The rush of emotions that came over him at that was too much for him and instead he clung to the sight of his lover. The angel looked as wrecked as he'd ever seen him and he felt pain knowing that he'd been the cause of that even if they'd agreed together that this was their best and only real course of action.
"There," Michael said.
Or at least it had to be Michael as he hadn't done it and yet Dean could feel his mouth and tongue move and it definitely sounded like his voice, even if it was wrong. Like hearing a recording of himself, only worse. He swallowed thickly and tried not to panic at his first real experience with what it felt like to be trapped- or no, more like stuck- in his own head, being unable to do anything but watch as a foreign entity controlled his meatsuit and interacted with those he loved.
"Dean is now fully conscious and as connected with his body as he can be while he is still my vessel."
Castiel's head snapped up at those words, an astonished yet hopeful expression on his face.
"Really?" Raphael demanded.
"Yes," Michael confirmed.
"Will you be able to maintain that connection?"
"I do not even have to expend any Grace for it at the moment, as long as that remains true, Dean should be able to experience everything he wants to."
Wants to? What? "Eh, Mike, what do you mean with that last?" Dean asked.
The world tilted as the archangel moved his head into that position he'd witnessed so often from both Michael and Castiel. Huh, so this is what it was like to be on the other side of that. He wondered what he looked like doing it and almost wished that he could see it.
"Exactly what I said," Michael replied, only now his voice was the same as that which Dean had heard while the archangel had been claiming him. It was his true voice, he realized and was spoken into his mind instead of aloud. "If you do not wish to experience what is going on around us, you can pull back into your mind and create whatever surroundings you wish for yourself like I did for you before."
"Oh. Cool."
Not that Dean expected he'd want to make much use of that particular ability, but it was kinda cool nonetheless. It almost felt like he suddenly possessed some kind of superpower or something. He determinedly refused to think of how similar it could be to the abilities he'd gained in Hell after coming off of the rack. Just because he'd essentially been nothing more then a soul back then too was irrelevant to the present. Like totally and completely irrelevant. End of discussion, damnit.
"Is Dean well?" Castiel finally demanded, stepping close. "He is not in pain or strained from managing to awake on his own?"
"No, he is well, Brother," Michael replied but Castiel looked worried regardless.
"Tell him I'm fine," Dean said.
"Dean says to tell you that he is fine."
Tension drained from Castiel's body and relief was evident in his eyes and Dean couldn't help but feel guilty once more for having put all of that worry there in the first place.
"In my experience, Dean is rarely well when he claims to be fine," Castiel stated.
Dean's eyes narrowed. "Bastard."
Michael frowned. "Why does he feel the need to insinuate untruths at that statement?"
If the words hadn't served to further relax his lover, Dean would have been annoyed at being tattled on, even if in doing so Michael had effectively communicated for him.
"He is human," Castiel replied as if that explained everything.
Okay, when this was done, Dean was gonna have a serious talk with his lover. His angel was starting to get just a little too good of a grasp on sarcasm and various other human quirks of communication. The fact that Castiel's nonchalance and words served to confuse Michael did entertain him though.
"You may be old, Mike, but you've still got a lot to learn, my young Padawan."
"I do not understand that."
"No shit, Sherlock," Dean couldn't help it, sometimes it was just far too easy to bait the archangel.
And okay, that flicker he'd just felt was a hint of annoyance, but it didn't seem too bad so Dean wasn't worried. What had Michael expected anyway? He wasn't gonna change just because he'd said yes, he was Dean Winchester after all and had a reputation to maintain! Plus the fact that he was hopelessly outclassed when it came to the abilities and power department given his present company just meant that he had to try all the harder in other areas.
"He can be exceedingly irritating when he chooses to be," Michael declared.
"Hey!"
"Only when he liked or hates you," Castiel responded.
"I am glad that he is your vessel, Michael," Raphael stated. "And not mine."
"As always, you are lacking in compassion and empathy, Brother," Michael answered.
"Shall we commence gathering the ingredients for the Rite of Contressa?"
"I would like some more time with Dean first. I am still weakened from the transition and feel it would be better to acquaint myself with how having Dean as a vessel differs from my previous ones." Castiel tensed a little at those words, but Michael preempted his concerns. "Hush, Brother, all is fine, but it is different."
"What do you want us to do?" Castiel inquired.
"If you could give us a little time to focus, I think it would be best. I shall call you when we are ready to begin collecting the ingredients."
"I shall go check on Lucifer's cage and continue our search for any trace of Simiel," Raphael stated before he vanished in a flutter of wings.
Castiel, however, seemed to hesitate and Dean felt torn between understanding that his lover didn't want to leave but also wanting him to do so. As long as Cas was there, most of his attention would be focused on his angel and that made it harder to come to grips with what had happened to him and what he now was. It also made talking with Michael difficult as they could be interrupted at any moment as Castiel wouldn't know that they were speaking with each other.
"Castiel, Brother, your mate is well and he will remain as such for the short while that I require to recuperate," Michael assured. "Use the opportunity to check on your duties in Heaven so that you are not called away when we are ready to begin collecting the ingredients."
With apparent reluctance, Castiel nodded his head though he still seemed to hesitate. "Dean..."
A moment later, his lover was gone, but Dean understood the sentiment perfectly. Usually they were alone at times like these and now that they weren't, it made things awkward.
"So, now what?" Dean questioned to pull his mind away from that.
"I want you to withdraw yourself from your body back into your mind as you were before."
"Why?"
"Once you know how to perform this, you will be able to do it easily whenever you wish to do so."
"Okay, what do I do?"
"Imagine yourself withdrawing, it should be enough."
Dean found that it came to him surprisingly easy as it was a lot like how he used the Jewel of Abel, just a matter of picturing things right. For a moment he was simply suspended in the embrace of the Grace light before the motel room started to materialize around him.
"Dude, I'm awesome!"
"It is indeed impressive," Michael agreed, appearing beside him as Deirdre once more. "Though it does not necessarily need to be this room if you do not want it to be."
"Nah, this is good for now. So, how drained are you right now?"
"Enough to take the time to recuperate."
"Will it always be that bad?"
"I am unsure, but I do not believe so. The connection has been formed between us now, but it would still be wise for me to retake you a little before we wish to perform the Rite."
"Okay."
Then, suddenly, Michael's focus shifted and Dean could feel- literally feel- him riffling through what he was pretty sure were his memories like they were files in some damn filing cabinet somewhere. At least that's what it felt like anyway from the snippets of scenes past that seemed to flash before his eyes.
"Dude, what are you doing? What the hell are you looking for?" Dean demanded, the sensation sending a shudder through him.
"Looking for what you do with my little brother," Michael explained, frowning as he tried to narrow the memories down.
"What?" Dean thundered, surprise rapidly morphing into anger.
Michael looked up, startled at the abrupt churn of emotions. "Castiel is always speaking of you and you sometimes evade the truth on the matter. I wish to see what it is that has you so emotional and what ruffles Castiel's feathers when Raphael pries."
"You goddamn bastard!" Dean roared.
Furious, he rushed at the archangel though he distantly knew he couldn't do Michael any harm, not here in the... what realm were they in anyway? His subconscious? Despite that, Dean continued on anyway. No way was he going to let the bastard go poking his sticky fingers there of all places. That was private. It was his, damnit! It was Cas and him and no one else.
"Dean, calm down," Michael urged.
The room around them vanished and Dean was suddenly back in that place, that strange void that was simultaneous nothing and everything. Once again he was aware of that something else, that gentle soothing sensation that seemed to be seeping in from somewhere, trying to wrap itself around him in its cradling warmth.
"No!" Dean cried out, his struggles turning desperate. "Stop that!"
He should have known better than to say yes to Michael; than to let him in.
Goddamn, fucking bastard!
Abruptly the sensation was gone, but Dean continued to struggle against the darkness like a wild animal, futilely but from the heart.
"Dean, Little One, please," Michael was suddenly there again before him. "Stop, please, stop."
Unable to budge, Dean slowly ceased his struggling, choosing instead to glare at the archangel. To think he'd thought he could trust the bastard! How wrong he'd been. The anger and betrayal bubbled up within him, mixing with the desperation he'd felt earlier and... and the fear. He wanted to be able to ignore the latter, to shove it aside and pretend it didn't exist, but he couldn't. Not when he'd said yes to Michael, not when the bastard could do whatever he wanted with his meatsuit and he was helpless to stop him.
Not when he could turn on Cas and use him to do so.
A.N.: Okay, I just wanted to check: If I use italics for Dean and Michael's speech to each other only when there aren't other people about, is that going to be too confusing?
Also, no, I didn't forget about the wings here, patience young Padawans.
Chapter 63
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 2,752
Summary: Dean and Michael try to work out what this unprecedented situation means for them.
PAST
Dean guessed that Michael reached up to brush fingers against his forehead only so that he'd have a warning that it was coming and he was grateful for it. If he'd thought the sensations earlier were weird, they were nothing compared to this. He felt something shift against him as there was a flare of the Grace light spilling into the room. He then flinched as he felt a touch inside of him and he tried to curl himself away from it. Even doing that, it was a struggle not to lash out at the archangel. Logically, he knew what was going on and why, but that didn't help much, not when he felt a foreign presence there.
Although Dean knew that technically all of this was already happening inside of him- freaky as that was- this felt far more intimate somehow. He could only assume that it was because now Michael was actively trying to do something to his very soul instead of merely his meatsuit. The fact that the last time the archangel had touched his soul he'd been sent straight into oblivion didn't help matters either. And God, if his father (or even his younger self) could hear him now, thinking about the difference between a touch to the body and a touch to the soul, he knew they'd instantly try and exorcise him. Hell, probably all of the hunters he'd ever known would have done that with the exception of Sam and Pastor Jim.
Just the thought of Pastor Jim sent a quick flare of pain through Dean. He'd tried not to think too much about him and Caleb after what had happened to them, but that hadn't really worked too well. The fact that they were in the middle of dealing with the Apocalypse sure didn't help matter any as he just knew how big of an assent Pastor Jim would have been. And, while at first he'd been glad that their old friend hadn't been there to see what a joke angels really were when compared to all of the lore on them, he now thought that Pastor Jim would have enjoyed knowing at least a few angels. Oh, who was he kidding, the man would have been over the moon to met those angels that were actually angelic (well at least some of the time anyway). That never failed to elicit a swell of sadness from deep within him.
There was another shift of Grace against him that sent Dean instinctively back, defenses going up.
"Dean."
"I'm trying!" Dean protested. "It's not exactly easy. This isn't like anything I've ever done before, just give me a moment."
With an effort, Dean pushed all other thoughts and distractions from his mind and concentrated on calming himself. Although he didn't need to breathe here, he took several deep breaths, focusing on the concentration exercises that Dad had taught him all those years ago. Slowly he felt himself begin to relax and he wondered absently how he could still almost feel like he had a meatsuit even when he wasn't really getting any input from it. When he'd been in Hell, Alastair had said something about souls basically recreating their own body as that was what they were used to and visualized themselves as. Unfortunately, it had made painful sense at the time and still did in a lot of ways. Soul body aside, though, he was more then ready to reconnect with his real one.
Since he was as relaxed as he figured he'd get, Dean nodded at the archangel. "Try now."
This time when the touch came, Dean still flinched, but he managed to keep himself from either withdrawing or attacking it. The cool, foreign presence slid inside without any of the sparks he'd felt earlier and he wondered if that was because he'd gotten used to it or because Michael had completed that connection he'd talked about earlier. He remained tense, but found that he was calming fractionally when nothing bad happened immediately.
"Michael?"
"Just a moment more, Little One."
Dean scowled, now that he wasn't as distracted as earlier- and was actually looking for something to distract himself with- he latched onto the odd new nickname. "Dude, don't call me that."
He felt a ripple of what felt distinctly like amusement coming from Michael.
"As I recall, my requesting you to cease addressing me as either Mikey or Mike was countered by your desire to call me that regardless of my wishes. Why should I act any differently now?"
Okay that was so not cool. Dean's scowl grew as he remembered all of the times he'd said some variant of that to the archangel. He could also easily recall how smug he'd been then. That just figured.
"I'm not little," Dean replied petulantly.
Michael, the bastard, actually laughed at that. "Dean, I am older then you can possibly comprehend. I was created before Time itself and was the First, to me you are hopelessly young."
"Yeah, well not for a human I'm not. In fact, in human years I've already lived about as long as the average American man, what with those forty years downstairs."
There was a flicker of something from Michael at those words, but it was gone so fast that Dean wasn't able to decipher what it was. Then, before he could pursue it, something seemed to click into place and suddenly the room they were in vanished to be replaced with the actual room as it was now, as evidenced by the presence of both Castiel and Raphael. The rush of emotions that came over him at that was too much for him and instead he clung to the sight of his lover. The angel looked as wrecked as he'd ever seen him and he felt pain knowing that he'd been the cause of that even if they'd agreed together that this was their best and only real course of action.
"There," Michael said.
Or at least it had to be Michael as he hadn't done it and yet Dean could feel his mouth and tongue move and it definitely sounded like his voice, even if it was wrong. Like hearing a recording of himself, only worse. He swallowed thickly and tried not to panic at his first real experience with what it felt like to be trapped- or no, more like stuck- in his own head, being unable to do anything but watch as a foreign entity controlled his meatsuit and interacted with those he loved.
"Dean is now fully conscious and as connected with his body as he can be while he is still my vessel."
Castiel's head snapped up at those words, an astonished yet hopeful expression on his face.
"Really?" Raphael demanded.
"Yes," Michael confirmed.
"Will you be able to maintain that connection?"
"I do not even have to expend any Grace for it at the moment, as long as that remains true, Dean should be able to experience everything he wants to."
Wants to? What? "Eh, Mike, what do you mean with that last?" Dean asked.
The world tilted as the archangel moved his head into that position he'd witnessed so often from both Michael and Castiel. Huh, so this is what it was like to be on the other side of that. He wondered what he looked like doing it and almost wished that he could see it.
"Exactly what I said," Michael replied, only now his voice was the same as that which Dean had heard while the archangel had been claiming him. It was his true voice, he realized and was spoken into his mind instead of aloud. "If you do not wish to experience what is going on around us, you can pull back into your mind and create whatever surroundings you wish for yourself like I did for you before."
"Oh. Cool."
Not that Dean expected he'd want to make much use of that particular ability, but it was kinda cool nonetheless. It almost felt like he suddenly possessed some kind of superpower or something. He determinedly refused to think of how similar it could be to the abilities he'd gained in Hell after coming off of the rack. Just because he'd essentially been nothing more then a soul back then too was irrelevant to the present. Like totally and completely irrelevant. End of discussion, damnit.
"Is Dean well?" Castiel finally demanded, stepping close. "He is not in pain or strained from managing to awake on his own?"
"No, he is well, Brother," Michael replied but Castiel looked worried regardless.
"Tell him I'm fine," Dean said.
"Dean says to tell you that he is fine."
Tension drained from Castiel's body and relief was evident in his eyes and Dean couldn't help but feel guilty once more for having put all of that worry there in the first place.
"In my experience, Dean is rarely well when he claims to be fine," Castiel stated.
Dean's eyes narrowed. "Bastard."
Michael frowned. "Why does he feel the need to insinuate untruths at that statement?"
If the words hadn't served to further relax his lover, Dean would have been annoyed at being tattled on, even if in doing so Michael had effectively communicated for him.
"He is human," Castiel replied as if that explained everything.
Okay, when this was done, Dean was gonna have a serious talk with his lover. His angel was starting to get just a little too good of a grasp on sarcasm and various other human quirks of communication. The fact that Castiel's nonchalance and words served to confuse Michael did entertain him though.
"You may be old, Mike, but you've still got a lot to learn, my young Padawan."
"I do not understand that."
"No shit, Sherlock," Dean couldn't help it, sometimes it was just far too easy to bait the archangel.
And okay, that flicker he'd just felt was a hint of annoyance, but it didn't seem too bad so Dean wasn't worried. What had Michael expected anyway? He wasn't gonna change just because he'd said yes, he was Dean Winchester after all and had a reputation to maintain! Plus the fact that he was hopelessly outclassed when it came to the abilities and power department given his present company just meant that he had to try all the harder in other areas.
"He can be exceedingly irritating when he chooses to be," Michael declared.
"Hey!"
"Only when he liked or hates you," Castiel responded.
"I am glad that he is your vessel, Michael," Raphael stated. "And not mine."
"As always, you are lacking in compassion and empathy, Brother," Michael answered.
"Shall we commence gathering the ingredients for the Rite of Contressa?"
"I would like some more time with Dean first. I am still weakened from the transition and feel it would be better to acquaint myself with how having Dean as a vessel differs from my previous ones." Castiel tensed a little at those words, but Michael preempted his concerns. "Hush, Brother, all is fine, but it is different."
"What do you want us to do?" Castiel inquired.
"If you could give us a little time to focus, I think it would be best. I shall call you when we are ready to begin collecting the ingredients."
"I shall go check on Lucifer's cage and continue our search for any trace of Simiel," Raphael stated before he vanished in a flutter of wings.
Castiel, however, seemed to hesitate and Dean felt torn between understanding that his lover didn't want to leave but also wanting him to do so. As long as Cas was there, most of his attention would be focused on his angel and that made it harder to come to grips with what had happened to him and what he now was. It also made talking with Michael difficult as they could be interrupted at any moment as Castiel wouldn't know that they were speaking with each other.
"Castiel, Brother, your mate is well and he will remain as such for the short while that I require to recuperate," Michael assured. "Use the opportunity to check on your duties in Heaven so that you are not called away when we are ready to begin collecting the ingredients."
With apparent reluctance, Castiel nodded his head though he still seemed to hesitate. "Dean..."
A moment later, his lover was gone, but Dean understood the sentiment perfectly. Usually they were alone at times like these and now that they weren't, it made things awkward.
"So, now what?" Dean questioned to pull his mind away from that.
"I want you to withdraw yourself from your body back into your mind as you were before."
"Why?"
"Once you know how to perform this, you will be able to do it easily whenever you wish to do so."
"Okay, what do I do?"
"Imagine yourself withdrawing, it should be enough."
Dean found that it came to him surprisingly easy as it was a lot like how he used the Jewel of Abel, just a matter of picturing things right. For a moment he was simply suspended in the embrace of the Grace light before the motel room started to materialize around him.
"Dude, I'm awesome!"
"It is indeed impressive," Michael agreed, appearing beside him as Deirdre once more. "Though it does not necessarily need to be this room if you do not want it to be."
"Nah, this is good for now. So, how drained are you right now?"
"Enough to take the time to recuperate."
"Will it always be that bad?"
"I am unsure, but I do not believe so. The connection has been formed between us now, but it would still be wise for me to retake you a little before we wish to perform the Rite."
"Okay."
Then, suddenly, Michael's focus shifted and Dean could feel- literally feel- him riffling through what he was pretty sure were his memories like they were files in some damn filing cabinet somewhere. At least that's what it felt like anyway from the snippets of scenes past that seemed to flash before his eyes.
"Dude, what are you doing? What the hell are you looking for?" Dean demanded, the sensation sending a shudder through him.
"Looking for what you do with my little brother," Michael explained, frowning as he tried to narrow the memories down.
"What?" Dean thundered, surprise rapidly morphing into anger.
Michael looked up, startled at the abrupt churn of emotions. "Castiel is always speaking of you and you sometimes evade the truth on the matter. I wish to see what it is that has you so emotional and what ruffles Castiel's feathers when Raphael pries."
"You goddamn bastard!" Dean roared.
Furious, he rushed at the archangel though he distantly knew he couldn't do Michael any harm, not here in the... what realm were they in anyway? His subconscious? Despite that, Dean continued on anyway. No way was he going to let the bastard go poking his sticky fingers there of all places. That was private. It was his, damnit! It was Cas and him and no one else.
"Dean, calm down," Michael urged.
The room around them vanished and Dean was suddenly back in that place, that strange void that was simultaneous nothing and everything. Once again he was aware of that something else, that gentle soothing sensation that seemed to be seeping in from somewhere, trying to wrap itself around him in its cradling warmth.
"No!" Dean cried out, his struggles turning desperate. "Stop that!"
He should have known better than to say yes to Michael; than to let him in.
Goddamn, fucking bastard!
Abruptly the sensation was gone, but Dean continued to struggle against the darkness like a wild animal, futilely but from the heart.
"Dean, Little One, please," Michael was suddenly there again before him. "Stop, please, stop."
Unable to budge, Dean slowly ceased his struggling, choosing instead to glare at the archangel. To think he'd thought he could trust the bastard! How wrong he'd been. The anger and betrayal bubbled up within him, mixing with the desperation he'd felt earlier and... and the fear. He wanted to be able to ignore the latter, to shove it aside and pretend it didn't exist, but he couldn't. Not when he'd said yes to Michael, not when the bastard could do whatever he wanted with his meatsuit and he was helpless to stop him.
Not when he could turn on Cas and use him to do so.
A.N.: Okay, I just wanted to check: If I use italics for Dean and Michael's speech to each other only when there aren't other people about, is that going to be too confusing?
Also, no, I didn't forget about the wings here, patience young Padawans.
Chapter 63