Unexpected Destinies Chapter 78
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: 2,568
Summary: Castiel and Raphael deal with Dean and Michael's wounds.
PAST
The pained grunt that Michael made when they landed in the motel room made Castiel feel like he'd been stabbed as well. If his brother was feeling the pain this acutely, then he could only imagine what it felt like for his mate. His stubborn, foolish mate who just could never seem to do things the easy way or allow others to bear a burden for him. On some level, a part of him knew that he wasn't being entirely fair to Dean as Michael had said that he might not have been able to finish the Rite of Contressa if his vessel hadn't insisted on not being shielded, but the rest of him just didn't care. All the rest of him cared about was the fact that his mate was in pain when he didn't have to be.
Although Castiel hadn't carried Dean much before and only ever when they were engaged in or about to engage in mating, he had done so enough to acutely feel how wrong it was to have wings brushing against him as he did so. It was a constant, sharp reminder that it was Michael who was in control of the body that he was carrying and not his mate. He did his best to ignore it as he bore them both towards the large bed upon which he and Dean had lain together only hours before. Briefly the thought of which of his brothers it was that was allowing him to not only carry them, but to touch their wings so freely struck him with all of the awe it deserved. This was Michael after all, his Father's first child and greatest of the archangels, let along the rest of the angels, but then he shoved it aside. He'd not allowed those sentiments free reign since Dean had first convinced him of the wrongness of Heaven's actions and now was not the time for them either.
Castiel unceremoniously shoved Deirdre Winchester's body aside to make room for his precious burden as he was silently thankful that Dean had started getting rooms with large beds whenever possible. Once he'd put Dean and Michael down as gently as possible, he turned to arrange Deirdre into a more comfortable position once more. He wasn't sure why he did it as he knew that she was no longer there to feel it anymore, but she had been his mate's aunt and it seemed wrong to leave her in a heap if he could help it.
"How are you feeling, Brother?" Castiel forced himself to ask.
He didn't really want to know the answer as Castiel knew that there wasn't really anything he could do for either Michael or Dean. He hadn't felt this helpless since before they thought that they'd prevented the Apocalypse and it was a feeling that he'd never wanted to experience again and especially not when it was his mate that he couldn't help. He just couldn't understand how humans could live with feeling like this on a regular basis. Or how Dean could overcome it to take on archangels like Michael and Lucifer head on when he had to know how infinitely more powerful they were than him.
"Better now that I can relax and lie still," Michael admitted.
The honesty of the statement startled Castiel as did the implied trust behind it. He knew that his oldest brother had come to view him differently, the change in the way he'd been treated during their lessons together proved that, but this was more then that. This was a willingness to show weakness before him, something he'd only ever assumed archangels did before other archangels and while he was now officially one of them thanks to his Father's promotion, as Dean liked to call it, he'd never expected to truly be considered one of them by either Michael or Raphael. The earlier feelings of honor and awe were back and he found them harder to shove aside this time.
Instead, Castiel tried to focus on what he might be able to do. He carefully didn't call for his brother as he knew that Raphael would have a good reason for not joining them right away and he didn't want to waste valuable time getting an explanation for it now when that could wait for later. It was hard, though, and he was starting to understand why his mate had always been so confrontational and difficult to deal with whenever Sam had been injured.
The thought froze Castiel in place for a moment before the idea had him turning towards Dean's duffel to riffle through its contents.
"Castiel?" Michael questioned when he held up the first aid kit triumphantly.
"It will help."
He wasn't quite sure how to describe human medicine to his brother as Castiel could remember well his own initial horror at seeing doctors cut into people to help them or watching his charge use a needle and thread to sew shut one of his brother's wounds. Dean must have said something however as Michael suddenly nodded in understanding. He was tempted to ask what had passed between them but focused his attention on the task at hand instead. The longer he waited to help, the worse off Michael and his mate would be as Dean's body was still losing blood and the open wound would allow things to get in that Michael would then need to waste time and energy fighting off.
With a thought and a twist of his Grace, Castiel banished Dean's ruined shirt, taking care to get all of the shreds and loose threads of it from the wound. He had watched his mate clean out enough injuries to know that it was a vitally important step in the process. Luckily, Dean had also taken the time to explain all that he did once and so he had a decent idea of what was required of him. He pulled out the disinfectant, needle, thread, gauze and bandages before he was forced to admit to himself that he was purposefully avoiding the wound itself. He had seen it earlier when he'd first rushed to their side, but that had been a hasty appraisal while Dean's shirt had still been in the way.
Castiel hated his own cowardice and forced himself to look up and inspect the wound. As he'd known from before, it was instantly obvious that if Michael hadn't been in Dean, the injury would have been almost immediately fatal for his mate. The edges of the wound are strangely smooth as the blade that tore so easily through flesh and bone had none of the roughness or raged edges to it that mortal weapons did. It made for a cleaner wound than those he'd witnessed before but even that couldn't hide the sheer wrongness and hideousness of it. The gaping hole in his mate's chest was enough to nearly paralyze him even though he knew that it would only have been a mortal death. Was he reacting like this because he knew how Dean felt about life and Earth versus how he felt about Heaven?
He didn't know, but one thing that Castiel did know what that this was not an injury that he'd be able to sew shut as the wound was far to big. Instead he picked up some of the gauze and pressed it firmly to the bleeding injury, desperately trying to ignore his brother's reaction to the action.
"Sorry," Castiel said, knowing it was hopelessly inadequate.
He knew that he would need to disinfect next, but he really didn't want to as he knew the pain that would cause. Castiel wished for the anesthetics that Sam had mentioned once, but knew that nothing Dean had in his kit would work on this type of injury even if he wasn't sure that Michael's presence would render it useless. He briefly considered alcohol, knowing he'd get his mate whatever he wanted in a heartbeat if he thought that it would help regardless of how much he'd wanted Dean to stop drinking so much before, but it too would be ineffective as long as Michael remained within his hunter.
The arrival of Raphael came just as Castiel was starting to become desperate.
"Brother, do you have something that can help?" Castiel demanded.
"Yes," Raphael replied, placing an assortment of items on the room's table where shortly before the ingredients for the Rite of Contressa had lain.
"What?"
"It is an old healing potion from during the Rebellion. Even then some of our siblings fought on Earth within vessels and were similarly wounded."
"Can I help?"
"Just continue to do what you are, I shall have this ready momentarily."
Castiel watched his brother mix the ingredients he had retrieved and frowned when he saw the holy oil. "What does it do?"
"It works on the connection between vessel and angel and will allow Michael to draw more strength from Dean then he is currently able to," Raphael explained. "This will allow him to heal faster and should let him get to the point where he can safely transfer back to his other vessel."
"Will this not weaken Dean?"
"Yes."
"No. We are no-"
"Castiel," Michael interrupted weakly. "Once I am gone, you will be able to heal Dean as normal."
That caught Castiel's attention instantly. "What?"
"Without Michael present, the wound becomes just an affliction of the body," Raphael stated. "It is Michael's Grace that makes it more at present and it is his own injury that prevents him from healing Dean. The most expedient way to heal both of them is to separate them from each other. You will be able to heal Dean instantly and Michael will not have a physical wound sapping his strength and will thus better be able to heal himself."
"But the transfer will weaken him more."
"I can aid him in doing so and while it will still weaken him, it will do so less then remaining within his true vessel and dealing with both his wound as well as Dean's."
"But will this whole process not aggravate their already overly strong connection?" Castiel questioned worriedly.
Raphael's words from earlier about how Dean and Michael were nearly fused in places still alarmed Castiel and it was more than enough to reawaken the intense feelings of jealousy and possessiveness that he'd felt the day his mate had finally said yes to Michael. The depth of his emotions for his mate still overwhelmed him at times when all was well- like when he was watching Dean sleep- so now when he was already distraught it was all but unbearable. The mere thought of losing his mate like that was too horrible to even consider.
"No," Raphael stated confidently. "The potion was specifically designed to work on the vessel's body and not their soul, both because archangel vessels often no longer possess a soul and because that would have been a violation of Father's wishes as we could find no means of ensuring that souls were not wholly consumed by the process."
If Castiel had thought the possibility he'd been considering was bad, this one was even worse. "And what of the near fusion that has already taken place? How do we deal with that?"
"Once Michael is strong enough to transfer to his other vessel, I shall help separate them."
"I can help, I know Dean's soul well."
"Too well and he your Grace. If you were to try helping, it will merely serve to complicate matters. No, you can best help by taking care of Dean once Michael is out of him."
The unfairness of the situation made Castiel want to fight it and he would have, were it not for the fact that helping would adversely affect his mate. Despite that, it grated and he hated the ever growing understanding he was gaining of Dean's unflattering behavior at times of great stress when those he loved were in need of aid and he was helpless to provide it.
"Very well," Castiel said, wanting his mate healed as soon as possible. "Does Dean agree to this?" he asked turning back to his eldest brother.
"Yes," Michael replied.
Another phenomenon that Castiel was still well acquainted with from his time as nearly human was how time seemed to slow when you wanted it to speed up. He was sure that it didn't take Raphael nearly as long to concoct the healing potion as it felt like it did, but he couldn't seem to be able to get a good grasp on the exact passage of time. Sometimes this inability almost pleased him as it meant that his time with his mate on Earth wouldn't fly by as it once might have, but at times like this it felt like a curse. He had considered filling the time by speaking with Michael, but he feared that doing so might further sap his brother's strength and he also didn't want to interfere if Michael and Dean were conversing with each other.
Eventually Raphael had the potion ready and he approached the bed with it. "This will not taste pleasant to your vessel's tongue," the archangel cautioned.
"I recall the reactions," Michael replied.
"Good. Castiel, you are ready to take care of Dean if I see to Michael?"
"Yes, Brother," Castiel confirmed. "How quickly will it work?"
"It has never been utilized on an archangel before, but in the past the reaction time varied," Raphael said. "I believe it may be affected by how closely the angel and vessel are already connected."
"Then it will not take long," Michael declared. "Let us begin."
The presence of the holy oil in the potion made it smell extremely unpleasant and Castiel was glad that he did not have to consume it. The distortion of his time perception meant that he did not know how long it took for the potion to act and Michael to strengthen, but it seemed to take forever. The fact that Dean's body paled didn't help his patience any and he was just about ready to question Raphael when Michael expressed his desire to try the switch. He tried to contain his excitement and instead helped as much as he could while Raphael aided Michael. The wound to his brother's true form was nearly as horrible to witness as that to Dean's body and he felt the rage against Simiel rise within him once more. He didn't like feeling like that about one of his sisters, but she had deliberately hurt his mate as well as his brother before trying to do the same to another brother and himself and all for Lucifer.
The instant the last tendril of Michael's Grace left Dean's body, Castiel pressed his hand to his mate's forehead and healed him with his own Grace. The damage felt even worse from this end and before he knew it, his wings and arms were wrapped protectively around his mate and Dean was clinging to him, body shaking and shuddering as it adjusted to the abrupt transitions. When his hunter finally calmed and his heart rate and breathing had both returned to normal, Dean turned his face enough so that he could see Michael.
"Mike?"
"Hush, Little One, I shall be okay," Michael reassured from within Deirdre. "All I need is time to allow my Grace to heal."
A.N.: Okay, I think it's time that I finally give up on pretending that I normally update every other day as that's not fair to you anymore. Obviously when I started this fic I never guessed how long it would run and so that schedule was doable back then as I knew what was happening the next few months. Now we're well into a time frame where I might not have that much time. So I'll still update as often as I can, I just won't pretend that it'll be as often as it was before and then constantly disappoint people when I miss a day or two. Sorry.
Chapter 79
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 2,568
Summary: Castiel and Raphael deal with Dean and Michael's wounds.
PAST
The pained grunt that Michael made when they landed in the motel room made Castiel feel like he'd been stabbed as well. If his brother was feeling the pain this acutely, then he could only imagine what it felt like for his mate. His stubborn, foolish mate who just could never seem to do things the easy way or allow others to bear a burden for him. On some level, a part of him knew that he wasn't being entirely fair to Dean as Michael had said that he might not have been able to finish the Rite of Contressa if his vessel hadn't insisted on not being shielded, but the rest of him just didn't care. All the rest of him cared about was the fact that his mate was in pain when he didn't have to be.
Although Castiel hadn't carried Dean much before and only ever when they were engaged in or about to engage in mating, he had done so enough to acutely feel how wrong it was to have wings brushing against him as he did so. It was a constant, sharp reminder that it was Michael who was in control of the body that he was carrying and not his mate. He did his best to ignore it as he bore them both towards the large bed upon which he and Dean had lain together only hours before. Briefly the thought of which of his brothers it was that was allowing him to not only carry them, but to touch their wings so freely struck him with all of the awe it deserved. This was Michael after all, his Father's first child and greatest of the archangels, let along the rest of the angels, but then he shoved it aside. He'd not allowed those sentiments free reign since Dean had first convinced him of the wrongness of Heaven's actions and now was not the time for them either.
Castiel unceremoniously shoved Deirdre Winchester's body aside to make room for his precious burden as he was silently thankful that Dean had started getting rooms with large beds whenever possible. Once he'd put Dean and Michael down as gently as possible, he turned to arrange Deirdre into a more comfortable position once more. He wasn't sure why he did it as he knew that she was no longer there to feel it anymore, but she had been his mate's aunt and it seemed wrong to leave her in a heap if he could help it.
"How are you feeling, Brother?" Castiel forced himself to ask.
He didn't really want to know the answer as Castiel knew that there wasn't really anything he could do for either Michael or Dean. He hadn't felt this helpless since before they thought that they'd prevented the Apocalypse and it was a feeling that he'd never wanted to experience again and especially not when it was his mate that he couldn't help. He just couldn't understand how humans could live with feeling like this on a regular basis. Or how Dean could overcome it to take on archangels like Michael and Lucifer head on when he had to know how infinitely more powerful they were than him.
"Better now that I can relax and lie still," Michael admitted.
The honesty of the statement startled Castiel as did the implied trust behind it. He knew that his oldest brother had come to view him differently, the change in the way he'd been treated during their lessons together proved that, but this was more then that. This was a willingness to show weakness before him, something he'd only ever assumed archangels did before other archangels and while he was now officially one of them thanks to his Father's promotion, as Dean liked to call it, he'd never expected to truly be considered one of them by either Michael or Raphael. The earlier feelings of honor and awe were back and he found them harder to shove aside this time.
Instead, Castiel tried to focus on what he might be able to do. He carefully didn't call for his brother as he knew that Raphael would have a good reason for not joining them right away and he didn't want to waste valuable time getting an explanation for it now when that could wait for later. It was hard, though, and he was starting to understand why his mate had always been so confrontational and difficult to deal with whenever Sam had been injured.
The thought froze Castiel in place for a moment before the idea had him turning towards Dean's duffel to riffle through its contents.
"Castiel?" Michael questioned when he held up the first aid kit triumphantly.
"It will help."
He wasn't quite sure how to describe human medicine to his brother as Castiel could remember well his own initial horror at seeing doctors cut into people to help them or watching his charge use a needle and thread to sew shut one of his brother's wounds. Dean must have said something however as Michael suddenly nodded in understanding. He was tempted to ask what had passed between them but focused his attention on the task at hand instead. The longer he waited to help, the worse off Michael and his mate would be as Dean's body was still losing blood and the open wound would allow things to get in that Michael would then need to waste time and energy fighting off.
With a thought and a twist of his Grace, Castiel banished Dean's ruined shirt, taking care to get all of the shreds and loose threads of it from the wound. He had watched his mate clean out enough injuries to know that it was a vitally important step in the process. Luckily, Dean had also taken the time to explain all that he did once and so he had a decent idea of what was required of him. He pulled out the disinfectant, needle, thread, gauze and bandages before he was forced to admit to himself that he was purposefully avoiding the wound itself. He had seen it earlier when he'd first rushed to their side, but that had been a hasty appraisal while Dean's shirt had still been in the way.
Castiel hated his own cowardice and forced himself to look up and inspect the wound. As he'd known from before, it was instantly obvious that if Michael hadn't been in Dean, the injury would have been almost immediately fatal for his mate. The edges of the wound are strangely smooth as the blade that tore so easily through flesh and bone had none of the roughness or raged edges to it that mortal weapons did. It made for a cleaner wound than those he'd witnessed before but even that couldn't hide the sheer wrongness and hideousness of it. The gaping hole in his mate's chest was enough to nearly paralyze him even though he knew that it would only have been a mortal death. Was he reacting like this because he knew how Dean felt about life and Earth versus how he felt about Heaven?
He didn't know, but one thing that Castiel did know what that this was not an injury that he'd be able to sew shut as the wound was far to big. Instead he picked up some of the gauze and pressed it firmly to the bleeding injury, desperately trying to ignore his brother's reaction to the action.
"Sorry," Castiel said, knowing it was hopelessly inadequate.
He knew that he would need to disinfect next, but he really didn't want to as he knew the pain that would cause. Castiel wished for the anesthetics that Sam had mentioned once, but knew that nothing Dean had in his kit would work on this type of injury even if he wasn't sure that Michael's presence would render it useless. He briefly considered alcohol, knowing he'd get his mate whatever he wanted in a heartbeat if he thought that it would help regardless of how much he'd wanted Dean to stop drinking so much before, but it too would be ineffective as long as Michael remained within his hunter.
The arrival of Raphael came just as Castiel was starting to become desperate.
"Brother, do you have something that can help?" Castiel demanded.
"Yes," Raphael replied, placing an assortment of items on the room's table where shortly before the ingredients for the Rite of Contressa had lain.
"What?"
"It is an old healing potion from during the Rebellion. Even then some of our siblings fought on Earth within vessels and were similarly wounded."
"Can I help?"
"Just continue to do what you are, I shall have this ready momentarily."
Castiel watched his brother mix the ingredients he had retrieved and frowned when he saw the holy oil. "What does it do?"
"It works on the connection between vessel and angel and will allow Michael to draw more strength from Dean then he is currently able to," Raphael explained. "This will allow him to heal faster and should let him get to the point where he can safely transfer back to his other vessel."
"Will this not weaken Dean?"
"Yes."
"No. We are no-"
"Castiel," Michael interrupted weakly. "Once I am gone, you will be able to heal Dean as normal."
That caught Castiel's attention instantly. "What?"
"Without Michael present, the wound becomes just an affliction of the body," Raphael stated. "It is Michael's Grace that makes it more at present and it is his own injury that prevents him from healing Dean. The most expedient way to heal both of them is to separate them from each other. You will be able to heal Dean instantly and Michael will not have a physical wound sapping his strength and will thus better be able to heal himself."
"But the transfer will weaken him more."
"I can aid him in doing so and while it will still weaken him, it will do so less then remaining within his true vessel and dealing with both his wound as well as Dean's."
"But will this whole process not aggravate their already overly strong connection?" Castiel questioned worriedly.
Raphael's words from earlier about how Dean and Michael were nearly fused in places still alarmed Castiel and it was more than enough to reawaken the intense feelings of jealousy and possessiveness that he'd felt the day his mate had finally said yes to Michael. The depth of his emotions for his mate still overwhelmed him at times when all was well- like when he was watching Dean sleep- so now when he was already distraught it was all but unbearable. The mere thought of losing his mate like that was too horrible to even consider.
"No," Raphael stated confidently. "The potion was specifically designed to work on the vessel's body and not their soul, both because archangel vessels often no longer possess a soul and because that would have been a violation of Father's wishes as we could find no means of ensuring that souls were not wholly consumed by the process."
If Castiel had thought the possibility he'd been considering was bad, this one was even worse. "And what of the near fusion that has already taken place? How do we deal with that?"
"Once Michael is strong enough to transfer to his other vessel, I shall help separate them."
"I can help, I know Dean's soul well."
"Too well and he your Grace. If you were to try helping, it will merely serve to complicate matters. No, you can best help by taking care of Dean once Michael is out of him."
The unfairness of the situation made Castiel want to fight it and he would have, were it not for the fact that helping would adversely affect his mate. Despite that, it grated and he hated the ever growing understanding he was gaining of Dean's unflattering behavior at times of great stress when those he loved were in need of aid and he was helpless to provide it.
"Very well," Castiel said, wanting his mate healed as soon as possible. "Does Dean agree to this?" he asked turning back to his eldest brother.
"Yes," Michael replied.
Another phenomenon that Castiel was still well acquainted with from his time as nearly human was how time seemed to slow when you wanted it to speed up. He was sure that it didn't take Raphael nearly as long to concoct the healing potion as it felt like it did, but he couldn't seem to be able to get a good grasp on the exact passage of time. Sometimes this inability almost pleased him as it meant that his time with his mate on Earth wouldn't fly by as it once might have, but at times like this it felt like a curse. He had considered filling the time by speaking with Michael, but he feared that doing so might further sap his brother's strength and he also didn't want to interfere if Michael and Dean were conversing with each other.
Eventually Raphael had the potion ready and he approached the bed with it. "This will not taste pleasant to your vessel's tongue," the archangel cautioned.
"I recall the reactions," Michael replied.
"Good. Castiel, you are ready to take care of Dean if I see to Michael?"
"Yes, Brother," Castiel confirmed. "How quickly will it work?"
"It has never been utilized on an archangel before, but in the past the reaction time varied," Raphael said. "I believe it may be affected by how closely the angel and vessel are already connected."
"Then it will not take long," Michael declared. "Let us begin."
The presence of the holy oil in the potion made it smell extremely unpleasant and Castiel was glad that he did not have to consume it. The distortion of his time perception meant that he did not know how long it took for the potion to act and Michael to strengthen, but it seemed to take forever. The fact that Dean's body paled didn't help his patience any and he was just about ready to question Raphael when Michael expressed his desire to try the switch. He tried to contain his excitement and instead helped as much as he could while Raphael aided Michael. The wound to his brother's true form was nearly as horrible to witness as that to Dean's body and he felt the rage against Simiel rise within him once more. He didn't like feeling like that about one of his sisters, but she had deliberately hurt his mate as well as his brother before trying to do the same to another brother and himself and all for Lucifer.
The instant the last tendril of Michael's Grace left Dean's body, Castiel pressed his hand to his mate's forehead and healed him with his own Grace. The damage felt even worse from this end and before he knew it, his wings and arms were wrapped protectively around his mate and Dean was clinging to him, body shaking and shuddering as it adjusted to the abrupt transitions. When his hunter finally calmed and his heart rate and breathing had both returned to normal, Dean turned his face enough so that he could see Michael.
"Mike?"
"Hush, Little One, I shall be okay," Michael reassured from within Deirdre. "All I need is time to allow my Grace to heal."
A.N.: Okay, I think it's time that I finally give up on pretending that I normally update every other day as that's not fair to you anymore. Obviously when I started this fic I never guessed how long it would run and so that schedule was doable back then as I knew what was happening the next few months. Now we're well into a time frame where I might not have that much time. So I'll still update as often as I can, I just won't pretend that it'll be as often as it was before and then constantly disappoint people when I miss a day or two. Sorry.
Chapter 79