Unexpected Destinies Chapter 92
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, torture
Word Count: 2,416
Summary: Michael comes up with another plan to find Castiel.
PAST
Xarael looked as disheartened as he felt and under any other circumstances Dean would have felt the need to offer her some reassurances and to try and comfort her but as it was he just couldn't. Not when he himself was far too plagued by visions of Castiel dead or in serious trouble. If this was anything like what his father had felt after his mother had died then he didn't know how the man had coped. He could also start to understand more why Dad had thrown himself into the hunt so obsessively. If it had been Simiel that had hurt his lover then he would hunt her down and gank her with pleasure.
"There may be," Michael mused and Dean turned eagerly to find a pensive look on the archangel's face as Michael stared back at him. "Take your shirt off."
"Huh?" Dean replied and then yelped as his jacket, over shirt and shirt were suddenly gone. "What the hell?"
The next thing that Dean knew, Michael was beside him taking hold of his arm so that the archangel could move him. He realized what was going to happen just before Michael's hand settled on the scar on his left shoulder. It felt incredibly wrong and weird to have anyone other than Castiel touch him there and it was all that he could do not to instinctively yank his arm away. He'd never really thought about it all that much- hell, he hadn't even wanted to at first- but he'd never been able to stand anyone else touching him there, not even Sam and Bobby and that had been before he'd first met his lover. It had just always seemed far too intimate somehow, something which had only grown when his relationship with Castiel had turned sexual, especially with his angel's tendency to grip it during sex.
"Mike?" Dean questioned through gritted teeth, doing his best not to pull away.
If this was something to help Castiel then he could deal with it, Dean just wanted to know how it was conducive to finding his lover.
"This is the physical manifestation of a bond that exists between your soul and my brother's Grace," Michael explained. "Now hush, Little One, and allow me to concentrate."
Dean bit back his other questions, wanting to get to his lover far more than he wanted answers to all of the questions he currently had. Still, he tried to at least focus on them a little so that he wouldn't think about how much time had passed since Castiel had first failed to turn up. And who knew how long before that his angel had first gotten into trouble?
A wave of wrongness suddenly flooded over him and Dean gasped, clutching at the archangel's arm. Before he could ask what that was, it happened again and this time the world swam before his eyes as his vision grayed and shifted. Part of him recognized the touch within him as Michael from when the archangel had actually been inside of him, but it felt different and wrong and he could only imagine that it was as a direct the result of it being felt through the bond he shared with Castiel. And what the hell was that about anyway? He'd known that there was something between his lover and himself, but he'd never thought that it could be used to help find his angel and that kinda scared him.
When the next wave of wrongness washed through him, Dean allowed his eyes to fall shut simply to prevent everything from shifting around him again. It was starting to make him feel sick and he really had to fight off each and every instinct to pull away from the archangel beside him and curl protectively around the scar on his shoulder. In that moment he was far more aware of the bond he shared with Castiel than ever before and he cherished it more too.
"Little One, please stop fighting me," Michael requested, voice strained.
The latter startled Dean enough that his eyes flew open to regard the archangel beside him. Michael's eyes were closed and there was strain on his face as he concentrated. It was with a shock that he felt how strongly his friend was gripping his shoulder.
"I'm not," Dean answered. "Or at least not consciously anyway. It's all I can do not to pull away, though, it just doesn't feel right."
"No, of course it would not," Xarael said as she stepped closer. "It is a bond created by Castiel with whom you have become mates, the touch of any other angel would draw an adverse reaction from yourself."
Dean glanced at Xarael and remembered once again his questions about the angelic use of the word mate and the meaning behind it. Somehow he kept avoiding the questions when he was able to ask them, a part of him almost afraid of the answer for some reason. Given how close he was with Castiel right now that instinct made him nervous in a way he hadn't yet allowed himself to consider all too closely. The fact that they were dealing with a renewed Apocalypse, or at least what would soon be one, had allowed him ample excuses to indulge in that particular form of what he knew to be cowardice. He just couldn't help it, though, despite all that had happened between him and his lover, he was still expecting the other shoe to drop on some level and now he was absolutely terrified that it was going to do so in a horrifyingly permanent manner.
When Michael stepped back, Dean felt his heart drop further at the frustrated expression on the archangel's face.
"It didn't work," Dean stated.
"I cannot reach Castiel's end of the bond," Michael explained. "Your soul is very protective of my brother and will not allow me to view it."
"I was surprised you even attempted it," Xarael admitted. "I had not believed such a connection would even be possible."
"A normal bond would not permit it, but that between Castiel and Dean is of a peculiar nature. It was forged in Perdition directly with Dean's soul and has since been strengthened."
"What do I need to do to let you at it?" Dean asked.
"I do not believe that you can consciously do so."
"There has to be something that we can do!"
"Yes, I believe that there is."
/
"Nothing you do will make me tell you what you want to know," Castiel declared confidently.
"We shall see about that, Clarence," Meg replied as she uncorked the jar. "Now, what have you done with my father, Lucifer?"
Castiel's lips drew into a thin line and he allowed his usual expressionless mask to fall into place. He would not tell the demon what she wanted to know and knew that things were about to get very bad for him. He did not know how much Holy oil Meg had, but even a little could cause a lot of damage if she knew how to use it and he had to assume that Lucifer had told her enough. He was surprised that he brother had told her so much and left the oil with her to begin with, but it did fit Lucifer's reputation for arrogance so he assumed that his brother had simply been drunk on power. Either that or he had understood how completely he had Meg under his power.
"No?" Meg prompted, sounding almost pleased. "You must like pain then."
Not giving into the demon, Castiel instead suppressed the instinct to flare his wings out in an aggressive gesture. With the way that he was trapped it would only serve to injure himself. The helplessness he felt now was far too familiar and it was something that he had hoped never to feel again after regaining his power, much less so soon. The knowledge that his mate must surely be worried sick at the moment didn't help the situation any either and only served to unsettle him even more, his every instinct screaming at him to go find and soothe Dean.
"I was hoping you'd give me this opportunity," Meg admitted.
Before Castiel could even think to reply, Meg had already swung the jar forwards so that some of the Holy oil within flew out of it, straight through the fire which lit it and onto him. He screamed as it burned his vessel and true form alike, the abrupt and all consuming pain unlike anything he had ever felt before. Although he'd experienced many injuries and felt the bite of many weapons in his time serving his Father and Heaven, he had been fortunate enough never to be subjected to Holy oil before. He had seen the consequences of its use only a handful of times, but none of them had been pretty. Only Michael had managed to overcome it swiftly, but he knew that to be because his oldest brother had returned straight to Heaven and the Healers after he had attacked him.
Now Castiel writhed and did his best to extinguish the burning oil though it was difficult to even think through the excruciating pain. His right wings had taken the brunt of the attack and were screaming their complaints at him. Pure terror gripped him at the thought that he might never fly again if his wings were irreparably damaged. He'd never before even considered giving an enemy what they wanted just to save himself, but it flitted across his mind now, if only for the briefest of moments before his right mind reasserted itself and with it came self-hatred for even having thought of it. He would not betray his mate and siblings merely to spare himself some pain. Meg could not kill him and sooner or later she would make a mistake and he'd be able to escape or Dean would perform yet another impossible feat and manage to find and rescue him. It wouldn't be the first time that his mate did something like that despite the odds.
"Well, Clarence? Ready to tell me what I want to know yet?"
"No."
/
The next moment they were back in Dean's current motel room and Michael was guiding him towards the bed. When the archangel joined him on it he realized where things were going and he steeled himself as best he could before he nodded at his friend.
"Do it," Dean said.
"I shall try to prevent you from going under this time, Little One."
Bright light filled the room as Michael left Deirdre and Dean suddenly wondered why the archangel taking him as vessel was so very different from how Castiel had moved from Claire to Jimmy that one time he'd witnessed his lover changing vessels. Had his angel done things differently then because Sam, Amelia and himself had been present and would otherwise have had their eyes burned out? Or was it because Castiel had still been a normal angel back then and Michael was an archangel? It wasn't really all that important, but it gave him something more pleasant to think about than what might be happening to his lover right now or his friend's Grace as it entered him.
All such distractions became useless when Michael was far enough into him to start first curling around his soul and then to start pushing it down to make room for all of the archangel's Grace. It was something else that Dean had purposefully not thought too much about, how there was actually room inside of himself for Michael, or inside of all vessels for that matter. Was that part of what it meant to be a vessel? To somehow have that room? If so, what was different about them from normal, regular humans to make that room? Were they missing something or had something somehow been added to them? It as all very confusing.
This time Dean had started wrapping himself around the tendrils of Michael's Grace from the moment it was within reach and he felt himself being pulled closer to his friend's essence at the same time even as he was being pushed down within himself. When the darkness came its pull was far less strong than either of the two previous times and it only edged around his vision a little while he felt himself held securely within Michael's Grace the whole time and didn't feel in danger of being pulled under. Then the archangel was completely within him and he relaxed his grip, panting.
"Well that went better than before," Dean said, though it was by no means something familiar or easy to endure just yet.
Part of him hoped that it never would be even if it would make things easier.
"Yes it did," Michael agreed. "Now this may feel a bit strange, but please try not to resist me."
"Go for it."
Dean felt Michael's Grace tighten around his soul and the sensation was pleasant at first, as if he was being wrapped in a particularly warm hug. Oddly, it seemed to take some of the edge off of his panic and dread which he assumed had as much to do with the fact that he could feel the sheer power the archangel possessed- and thus close to that which his lover had at his disposal too- as with the feelings of determination and fury that he could sense from his friend. It clearly told him that Michael was deeply concerned about his brother's absence and would do all that he could to find and rescue Castiel.
Then he felt another wave of wrongness but this time it felt different. Dean wasn't sure that he could describe it, it just was. It was followed swiftly by a sense of what he could only describe as pure Cas and his soul reacted instinctively, reaching out towards it before he could stop himself.
"Sorry," Dean said, trying to pull back.
It was hard as all he wanted to do was to bury himself in the sense of his lover and the relief he felt upon experiencing the proof of what he knew to mean that Castiel was still alive, but if it helped then he'd do it.
"No, do not stop, Little One," Michael replied. "Do it again. Reach out for Castiel."
"It's a good thing?"
"Yes, you are obviously able to do instinctively that which I have been trying to do via your bond."
A.N.: Hey guys, the reason for the delay in posting is as follows: the place where I'm currently staying believes that some, sporadic internet access once a week is enough for them to claim 'internet access,' which I think is bullshit, but which I didn't learn until arriving here. If I'd known, I'd have warned you and not have left you hanging with such a cliffhanger. Unfortunately I didn't know, hence the delay. I tried to leave it somewhat positive here (or at least as much as the current plot line would allow). I'll post again as soon as possible but it may not work before Saturday or Sunday.
Chapter 93
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash, torture
Word Count: 2,416
Summary: Michael comes up with another plan to find Castiel.
PAST
Xarael looked as disheartened as he felt and under any other circumstances Dean would have felt the need to offer her some reassurances and to try and comfort her but as it was he just couldn't. Not when he himself was far too plagued by visions of Castiel dead or in serious trouble. If this was anything like what his father had felt after his mother had died then he didn't know how the man had coped. He could also start to understand more why Dad had thrown himself into the hunt so obsessively. If it had been Simiel that had hurt his lover then he would hunt her down and gank her with pleasure.
"There may be," Michael mused and Dean turned eagerly to find a pensive look on the archangel's face as Michael stared back at him. "Take your shirt off."
"Huh?" Dean replied and then yelped as his jacket, over shirt and shirt were suddenly gone. "What the hell?"
The next thing that Dean knew, Michael was beside him taking hold of his arm so that the archangel could move him. He realized what was going to happen just before Michael's hand settled on the scar on his left shoulder. It felt incredibly wrong and weird to have anyone other than Castiel touch him there and it was all that he could do not to instinctively yank his arm away. He'd never really thought about it all that much- hell, he hadn't even wanted to at first- but he'd never been able to stand anyone else touching him there, not even Sam and Bobby and that had been before he'd first met his lover. It had just always seemed far too intimate somehow, something which had only grown when his relationship with Castiel had turned sexual, especially with his angel's tendency to grip it during sex.
"Mike?" Dean questioned through gritted teeth, doing his best not to pull away.
If this was something to help Castiel then he could deal with it, Dean just wanted to know how it was conducive to finding his lover.
"This is the physical manifestation of a bond that exists between your soul and my brother's Grace," Michael explained. "Now hush, Little One, and allow me to concentrate."
Dean bit back his other questions, wanting to get to his lover far more than he wanted answers to all of the questions he currently had. Still, he tried to at least focus on them a little so that he wouldn't think about how much time had passed since Castiel had first failed to turn up. And who knew how long before that his angel had first gotten into trouble?
A wave of wrongness suddenly flooded over him and Dean gasped, clutching at the archangel's arm. Before he could ask what that was, it happened again and this time the world swam before his eyes as his vision grayed and shifted. Part of him recognized the touch within him as Michael from when the archangel had actually been inside of him, but it felt different and wrong and he could only imagine that it was as a direct the result of it being felt through the bond he shared with Castiel. And what the hell was that about anyway? He'd known that there was something between his lover and himself, but he'd never thought that it could be used to help find his angel and that kinda scared him.
When the next wave of wrongness washed through him, Dean allowed his eyes to fall shut simply to prevent everything from shifting around him again. It was starting to make him feel sick and he really had to fight off each and every instinct to pull away from the archangel beside him and curl protectively around the scar on his shoulder. In that moment he was far more aware of the bond he shared with Castiel than ever before and he cherished it more too.
"Little One, please stop fighting me," Michael requested, voice strained.
The latter startled Dean enough that his eyes flew open to regard the archangel beside him. Michael's eyes were closed and there was strain on his face as he concentrated. It was with a shock that he felt how strongly his friend was gripping his shoulder.
"I'm not," Dean answered. "Or at least not consciously anyway. It's all I can do not to pull away, though, it just doesn't feel right."
"No, of course it would not," Xarael said as she stepped closer. "It is a bond created by Castiel with whom you have become mates, the touch of any other angel would draw an adverse reaction from yourself."
Dean glanced at Xarael and remembered once again his questions about the angelic use of the word mate and the meaning behind it. Somehow he kept avoiding the questions when he was able to ask them, a part of him almost afraid of the answer for some reason. Given how close he was with Castiel right now that instinct made him nervous in a way he hadn't yet allowed himself to consider all too closely. The fact that they were dealing with a renewed Apocalypse, or at least what would soon be one, had allowed him ample excuses to indulge in that particular form of what he knew to be cowardice. He just couldn't help it, though, despite all that had happened between him and his lover, he was still expecting the other shoe to drop on some level and now he was absolutely terrified that it was going to do so in a horrifyingly permanent manner.
When Michael stepped back, Dean felt his heart drop further at the frustrated expression on the archangel's face.
"It didn't work," Dean stated.
"I cannot reach Castiel's end of the bond," Michael explained. "Your soul is very protective of my brother and will not allow me to view it."
"I was surprised you even attempted it," Xarael admitted. "I had not believed such a connection would even be possible."
"A normal bond would not permit it, but that between Castiel and Dean is of a peculiar nature. It was forged in Perdition directly with Dean's soul and has since been strengthened."
"What do I need to do to let you at it?" Dean asked.
"I do not believe that you can consciously do so."
"There has to be something that we can do!"
"Yes, I believe that there is."
/
"Nothing you do will make me tell you what you want to know," Castiel declared confidently.
"We shall see about that, Clarence," Meg replied as she uncorked the jar. "Now, what have you done with my father, Lucifer?"
Castiel's lips drew into a thin line and he allowed his usual expressionless mask to fall into place. He would not tell the demon what she wanted to know and knew that things were about to get very bad for him. He did not know how much Holy oil Meg had, but even a little could cause a lot of damage if she knew how to use it and he had to assume that Lucifer had told her enough. He was surprised that he brother had told her so much and left the oil with her to begin with, but it did fit Lucifer's reputation for arrogance so he assumed that his brother had simply been drunk on power. Either that or he had understood how completely he had Meg under his power.
"No?" Meg prompted, sounding almost pleased. "You must like pain then."
Not giving into the demon, Castiel instead suppressed the instinct to flare his wings out in an aggressive gesture. With the way that he was trapped it would only serve to injure himself. The helplessness he felt now was far too familiar and it was something that he had hoped never to feel again after regaining his power, much less so soon. The knowledge that his mate must surely be worried sick at the moment didn't help the situation any either and only served to unsettle him even more, his every instinct screaming at him to go find and soothe Dean.
"I was hoping you'd give me this opportunity," Meg admitted.
Before Castiel could even think to reply, Meg had already swung the jar forwards so that some of the Holy oil within flew out of it, straight through the fire which lit it and onto him. He screamed as it burned his vessel and true form alike, the abrupt and all consuming pain unlike anything he had ever felt before. Although he'd experienced many injuries and felt the bite of many weapons in his time serving his Father and Heaven, he had been fortunate enough never to be subjected to Holy oil before. He had seen the consequences of its use only a handful of times, but none of them had been pretty. Only Michael had managed to overcome it swiftly, but he knew that to be because his oldest brother had returned straight to Heaven and the Healers after he had attacked him.
Now Castiel writhed and did his best to extinguish the burning oil though it was difficult to even think through the excruciating pain. His right wings had taken the brunt of the attack and were screaming their complaints at him. Pure terror gripped him at the thought that he might never fly again if his wings were irreparably damaged. He'd never before even considered giving an enemy what they wanted just to save himself, but it flitted across his mind now, if only for the briefest of moments before his right mind reasserted itself and with it came self-hatred for even having thought of it. He would not betray his mate and siblings merely to spare himself some pain. Meg could not kill him and sooner or later she would make a mistake and he'd be able to escape or Dean would perform yet another impossible feat and manage to find and rescue him. It wouldn't be the first time that his mate did something like that despite the odds.
"Well, Clarence? Ready to tell me what I want to know yet?"
"No."
/
The next moment they were back in Dean's current motel room and Michael was guiding him towards the bed. When the archangel joined him on it he realized where things were going and he steeled himself as best he could before he nodded at his friend.
"Do it," Dean said.
"I shall try to prevent you from going under this time, Little One."
Bright light filled the room as Michael left Deirdre and Dean suddenly wondered why the archangel taking him as vessel was so very different from how Castiel had moved from Claire to Jimmy that one time he'd witnessed his lover changing vessels. Had his angel done things differently then because Sam, Amelia and himself had been present and would otherwise have had their eyes burned out? Or was it because Castiel had still been a normal angel back then and Michael was an archangel? It wasn't really all that important, but it gave him something more pleasant to think about than what might be happening to his lover right now or his friend's Grace as it entered him.
All such distractions became useless when Michael was far enough into him to start first curling around his soul and then to start pushing it down to make room for all of the archangel's Grace. It was something else that Dean had purposefully not thought too much about, how there was actually room inside of himself for Michael, or inside of all vessels for that matter. Was that part of what it meant to be a vessel? To somehow have that room? If so, what was different about them from normal, regular humans to make that room? Were they missing something or had something somehow been added to them? It as all very confusing.
This time Dean had started wrapping himself around the tendrils of Michael's Grace from the moment it was within reach and he felt himself being pulled closer to his friend's essence at the same time even as he was being pushed down within himself. When the darkness came its pull was far less strong than either of the two previous times and it only edged around his vision a little while he felt himself held securely within Michael's Grace the whole time and didn't feel in danger of being pulled under. Then the archangel was completely within him and he relaxed his grip, panting.
"Well that went better than before," Dean said, though it was by no means something familiar or easy to endure just yet.
Part of him hoped that it never would be even if it would make things easier.
"Yes it did," Michael agreed. "Now this may feel a bit strange, but please try not to resist me."
"Go for it."
Dean felt Michael's Grace tighten around his soul and the sensation was pleasant at first, as if he was being wrapped in a particularly warm hug. Oddly, it seemed to take some of the edge off of his panic and dread which he assumed had as much to do with the fact that he could feel the sheer power the archangel possessed- and thus close to that which his lover had at his disposal too- as with the feelings of determination and fury that he could sense from his friend. It clearly told him that Michael was deeply concerned about his brother's absence and would do all that he could to find and rescue Castiel.
Then he felt another wave of wrongness but this time it felt different. Dean wasn't sure that he could describe it, it just was. It was followed swiftly by a sense of what he could only describe as pure Cas and his soul reacted instinctively, reaching out towards it before he could stop himself.
"Sorry," Dean said, trying to pull back.
It was hard as all he wanted to do was to bury himself in the sense of his lover and the relief he felt upon experiencing the proof of what he knew to mean that Castiel was still alive, but if it helped then he'd do it.
"No, do not stop, Little One," Michael replied. "Do it again. Reach out for Castiel."
"It's a good thing?"
"Yes, you are obviously able to do instinctively that which I have been trying to do via your bond."
A.N.: Hey guys, the reason for the delay in posting is as follows: the place where I'm currently staying believes that some, sporadic internet access once a week is enough for them to claim 'internet access,' which I think is bullshit, but which I didn't learn until arriving here. If I'd known, I'd have warned you and not have left you hanging with such a cliffhanger. Unfortunately I didn't know, hence the delay. I tried to leave it somewhat positive here (or at least as much as the current plot line would allow). I'll post again as soon as possible but it may not work before Saturday or Sunday.
Chapter 93