Unexpected Destinies Chapter 179
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: 3,625
Summary: The air was sharp with arid smoke and the cries of the wounded and dying.
PRESENT
The air was sharp with arid smoke and the cries of the wounded and dying, none of which had any place here. Neither did the Darkness which had crept in, irreparably tainting that which he held most precious; his family and his home.
Shock was still the foremost emotion singing through his Grace and it was hard for him to process exactly what had happened as it had all been so sudden, so completely unexpected. Yes, he'd known that something was up with his brother- indeed it had been a long time since he'd seen Lucifer even remotely calm or at ease- but he'd thought it just a phase. Something which would pass and leave his little brother as he had always been, happy and bright, a true joy to be around. Now, however, he knew better, just as he knew that this could not have happened overnight. How long had this been going on? How long had his brother been threading down this path?
How long had he not seen it?
The last question bothered him the most and he realized that he simply didn't know. Was it therefore partially his fault? Had his inattention allowed for this to happen? But how could he have known? What Lucifer had done, what Lucifer was doing, was incomprehensible. How could his brother possibly think that he could truly challenge their Father? How could he think that he even stood a chance? Above and beyond that, how could Lucifer even consider defying God? Father was all powerful, Father was all knowing.
Father was.
Even he himself, first created of all of Father's creations, would never have even thought to contemplate the very action that Lucifer had chosen as his own. That fact stunned him to his very core and it was a struggle in order to even comprehend the fact that it had happened. His brother had defied their Father! If he couldn't feel the Darkness that had entered Heaven for the first time himself, or hear the cries of his brothers and sisters as Lucifer and those who had chosen to join him attacked them, he would never have believed it to be true.
As it was, however, there was little time for disbelief or lamentation as to what it was that might have driven his brother to this vile and despicable action. No, instead, now was the time to react and defend. While he may have no point of reference for what it was that Lucifer was doing, he knew far more than he required of combat and defense in order to knew precisely how to act. He had been created a warrior, his Father's right hand angel and enforcer. Even before he could feel God reaching out to him, he already knew what it was that he had to do despite how his Grace cried out for him not to. Though he wanted to do nothing more than to hold Lucifer and forgive him, he knew that his brother had broken something today which could not be fixed.
There was angelic blood on Lucifer's hands now, the blood of his own brothers and sisters, and this was one thing which he could not allow. He would always love his brother, but if it came down to a choice between defending the little ones or striking his brother down, he knew in his Grace what it was that he had to do. For if he didn't then Father only knew how many other brothers and sisters that he would lose today. The searing pain of Jophiel's death hit him hard and the next thing that he knew, he stood before Lucifer, their blades crossed as his brother smiled cruelly at him.
"Hello, Michael, I was beginning to think that you wouldn't come," Lucifer greeted him, disengaging and stepping back arrogantly. "Finally decided to deign us with your presence then, hmm?"
"Lucifer," he breathed, the knowledge of what was happening hardly able to prepare him for the mere sight of it.
All around him his brothers and sisters were fighting for their very lives. Fighting as he had often seen them do before, only this time it wasn't demons that they faced, but rather the fallen amongst them. Their very own brothers and sisters who had chosen jealousy and Darkness over the love of their Father, twisting their very essences in a way that he couldn't face without cringing, his own Grace shrinking inside himself in horror at the mere sight.
"Stop this madness," he continued. "Halt it now before it's too late."
"I think it's already too late, Brother, far too late."
"No it is not, Father is merciful."
"Father is a fool."
"Lucifer!"
"But of course, it is too much to hope for you to understand that. You're nothing but His puppet, His ever faithful and unquestioning servant. His little mindlessly obedient attack dog."
"Brother, I-"
"No, I've heard all that you have to say, Michael. I've had enough of your excuses for Him. I will not bow down to those vile, hairless apes that crawl around in the mud like vermin, and if that is what Father wishes of us, then He is wrong!"
The hateful words were followed by a fierce thrust of Lucifer's sword and he had no choice but to raise his own and react or be skewered. Though it weighed heavy on his heart, he knew that he had to strike his brother down. Between what Lucifer had done to their siblings, Jophiel foremost amongst them, and his brother's stubborn refusal to see reason there was simply no other course of action left available to him though he dearly wished that there was. It was as he was struggling to determine what to do that the answer came to him and he silently thanked Father from whom he knew the knowledge had come much as the idea of locking his brother up like that pained him.
The mere thought of Lucifer trapped down there alone, away from them and Father's Light and Grace was horrendous and he faltered slightly, allowing his brother to wound him. The physical pain seared him, burning his Grace, but hardly compared to his mental anguish. Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to be the one to do this to his little brother? The thoughts only flitted across his mind for an instant, but the pain they brought was excruciating. The knowledge that Lucifer had brought this not only upon himself but upon them all rallied him though. None of this would be happening if his brother hadn't allowed himself to fall to pride and self-righteousness.
The conviction gave him strength and he struck back, determined not to let Lucifer harm any other of his brothers and sisters who depended on him to protect them. They fought, savagely trading blows, each wounding the other as they flew from one end of battlefield that Heaven had become to the other, scattering lesser angels in their way like startled birds. Most of the fight was one horrific blur to him of horror, pain and denial until he finally managed to strike his brother down.
The look of disbelief and sheer betrayal on Lucifer's face as he fell tore him up inside and he felt himself crying out along with his little brother.
A cry that Dean echoed as he bolted upright in his bed, the images and emotions of the nightmare still swirling around him even as he finally ripped himself free from their horrid embrace, gasping.
"Dean? Are you alright?"
His brother's voice drifted into the room just as Dean heard the flutter of wings beside him. He threw himself into his bond mate's arms, uncaring of how he'd look when Sam entered the room.
"Hush, Beloved," Castiel whispered as the door to the bedroom flew open.
"Dean?" Sam demanded worriedly before he stopped and blinked. "Oh, sorry."
"I have only just arrived myself," Castiel reassured.
"I see. What happened?"
"Nightmare," Dean mumbled, embarrassed.
"Nightmare? Of Hell?" Sam asked, surprised.
"No."
A slight pressure in his mind and Dean easily allowed his husband in, pushing the memory of the nightmare at Castiel.
Sam frowned. "Then what?"
"Heaven, the Rebellion," Dean replied softly, seeking to distract himself from the memory Castiel was even now watching.
"The rebellion? Wait, you mean the rebellion? Lucifer's?"
"Yeah."
"How? You weren't even there!"
"No, but Mike was."
At first his brother frowned but Dean could see the moment that Sam understood what he meant as his little brother's eyes opened wide in shock before worry began to cloud them over.
"That... that's not good, is it?"
"No. Mike and I seem to be becoming far closer than a vessel and an angel normally do and we don't know how or why."
"And you're still doing it? Are you insane, Dean?"
"We have to, Sam. Without me and Mike being together we don't stand a chance."
"A chance of doing what? Dean, we don't even know what we're going to do! How can you know that this is the only way?"
"Because we wouldn't be where we are if I hadn't said yes to Mike. It allowed us to keep Lucifer without a vessel for months. That's months where he couldn't just do whatever the hell he wanted and that we had to focus on finding a way to break the Rite of Contressa. Months of time that we gained to find an another way to end this Apocalypse."
"An another way that hasn't been found yet."
"True, but at least we now know what not to try. Though it's not what we wanted, it has allowed us to check a lot of sources which we can now rule out." Sam sighed and Dean could see that his brother had no argument against that. "Look, it's not that I want to end up permanently fused to Mike or anything, but until we find another way to defeat Lucifer or find proof that Mike and I really won't be able to separate, we have no choice but to keep going as we are. Besides at the moment we just seem to be exchanging memories."
"Subconsciously," Castiel stated, coming back to them.
"Well, yeah, obviously."
"And you're okay with this, Cas?" Sam questioned.
"I do not like it, but I know that Michael would not risk Dean if my brother thought that there was another way or that there was a real risk of being permanently fused to Dean by simply taking him as his vessel."
"I still don't like it."
Dean snorted. "Trust me, none of us do."
/
"Yield! I yield!" Gwen cried out, laughing.
Dean instantly stopped tickling her and released his grip on her wrists. It had started out as a simple sparing match but he'd been unable to resist the opportunity to tease her once he'd had her pinned and she'd refused to admit defeat. In a way he admired Gwen's determination, but on the other hand he didn't think that just giving in whenever he had her pinned would make her learn to do better as quickly as she could. Therefore the tickling was an added incentive, a teaching tool.
At least that was his story and he was sticking to it.
"I have not seen that particular tactic utilized before," Raphael stated.
Gwen yelped and spun around and Dean laughed. It continually amused him to watch his human family be caught off-guard and startled whenever one of his angels showed up as they couldn't hear their arrival like he could. He was pretty sure that his husband and bond brothers also took as much pleasure from this fact as he did, Raphael in particular.
"Don't do that!" Gwen complained, hand at her chest. "You're gonna give me a heart attack doing that one of these days."
"Well then it's a good thing that Raphael's specialty is healing, isn't it?" Dean queried.
"I'd prefer not to have the heart attack in the first place, thank you very much."
Still grinning, Dean turned his attention back to his bond brother. "Tickling isn't really a tactic used on the battlefield, I just couldn't resist doing it as I know that Gwen's particularly sensitive to it."
"Tickling?"
"It's a human thing which you guys can turn on and off at will. Or at least Cas can and he has ever since the first time as he didn't particularly enjoy it."
"You tickled your angel?" Gwen asked, amused.
"Yeah, he'd done it to me accidentally and didn't get my reaction to it."
"So it would not be a new tactic to try then?" Raphael checked.
"Well, you could always try, I suppose, but I wouldn't particularly recommend it. Hell, I don't even know if demons are ticklish so I'd definitely not waste time trying it on the battlefield, but if you've got one at your mercy, I suppose you always could. Though I think the adrenaline might overcome their response to it even if they are ticklish."
"I see."
"So, I guess you're here to give Dean a break?" Gwen asked Raphael.
"Yes, he thought it might be good for you to test your skills against an angelic opponent."
"Lucky me."
Dean smiled at the wariness in his cousin's voice. The fact that she wasn't underestimating his bond brother was an excellent start and he couldn't wait to see how Gwen handled the reality of fighting an angel. He'd taken the time to cover what he knew of angelic strengths and weaknesses with her and knew that it was time for a test run so to speak. There was only so much that theoretical lessons would teach her after all and he knew that she really needed to have some practical experience facing an angel before it happened for real when the angel she stood against would have no compunctions killing her. He'd gotten some wooden sparing sticks to use in lieu of angelic swords and he got those out now before retreating to what he assumed was a safe distance and settling down to watch.
Raphael and Gwen circled each other at first, carefully eyeing up their opponent and Dean was happy to see that his bond brother wasn't merely assuming that he could handle her out right. Though there was little doubt in his mind as to how this would go and who would win, he was glad to see that the archangel had learned not to underestimate humans and take the outcome of a fight with them for granted. It was a mark of how far Raphael had come and he couldn't help but feel proud at that as he knew this particular change in his bond brother was almost entirely down to him. The first few blows exchanged between his cousin and Raphael were quick and experimental, each of them testing the other's reflexes and defenses, before they separated once more and circled each other some more.
"Crap, what'd I miss?" Sam demanded, appearing by his side and dropping to the ground next to him. "Have they been at it long?"
"Nope, they just started," Dean replied, glancing at his brother. "Ready for your turn after this?"
"No, but I doubt I'll feel ready when it becomes real so I guess it doesn't really matter."
"With any luck it won't ever happen."
Sam snorted. "That's not likely."
"I don't know, Lucifer wants you alive and whole, so I can't see Simiel or any other angel with them challenging you to a fight."
"They're not the only angels out there."
The words made Dean frown. "No, but the others are with Heaven and Cas wouldn't allow them to attack you."
"All of them? I mean, really? After everything that's happened do you really think that Cas has control of all of the angels that aren't with Lucifer?"
"Yes, he'd have told me if there was any dissident among the ranks about this. You're probably the only human out there who is safe from every single angel still in existence. I'd revel in that fact if I were you, it's a blessing."
"A blessing, huh?"
"Oh, shut up. You know what I mean."
Sam laughed sharply. "I think you've been spending far too much time around angels."
"Bitch."
"Jerk."
/
Angels were weird.
Dean wasn't quite sure how or why it was that this fact continued to surprise him, but somehow it did. He'd chosen to read this particular Enochian book himself in light of its subject matter as it was on the fall of angels and he'd thought that his husband and bond brothers might not wish to read that themselves. He'd expected to be insulted from time to time, but the author of this particular book had actually not had a derogatory view of humans. The angel totally hadn't gotten why some of his brothers and sisters might wish to fall, but he hadn't looked down on humans. He just hadn't gotten them. Which was precisely what had led to some rather interesting thoughts and musings on the part of the author.
Still, angels had to be weird to come up with some of this shit.
The description of how it might be to go through life with a giant Grace sized hole within one made Dean smile. It also made him shake his head. It was more amusing than anything else to him that Grace was so central to the author's whole world view that he couldn't even image that a fallen angel who had no memory of their previous life like Anna wouldn't miss it. The author's description of the process of tearing one's Grace out, however, was so detailed and graphic that he was sure that they'd seen one of their siblings do it. Surprisingly the thought saddened him.
"Dean?" Castiel asked, breaking the silence.
"Mm?"
"Can we get caramel sauce?"
"What, now? Bobby and Gwen are probably already on the way back."
"I can get it, but you still have the special sheets, right?"
"Sheets? What she- oh," Dean replied as the penny suddenly dropped. Those sheets. "Yeah, I still have 'em, but at home."
It wasn't until he'd said it that Dean realized what he was gonna say. Home. He hadn't thought about it for a while, but it really had been. It's where he and Castiel had settled and accumulated their stuff. Out of nowhere he had a sudden fierce longing for their kalsika and the Andaluzyian crystal. Perhaps he'd have to go back and get them.
A glance up and Dean froze at the expression on Sam's face, stuck halfway between disgusted and stricken. The hurt in his brother's eyes twisted something within him but he forced it aside. If Sam hadn't considered his apartment with Jess home then he'd eat his shoes. As for the other, well if his brother wasn't disgusted it wouldn't be nearly as much fun to tease him even if that hadn't been his angel's intention in this particular instance.
"Whose computer is that, Cas?" Sam inquired, in what Dean could instantly tell was a desperate attempt to change the subject.
"Dean's," Castiel replied, not looking up from the screen.
"Dean's?" Sam repeated, turning to look at him in surprise. "You got a laptop?"
"Well, yeah, it's just so much easier to find hunts online that to wade through dozens of newspapers."
Not one to let his little brother off lightly if at all possible, Dean thought of a way to turn the conversation back round on itself. Unbeknownst to what he was doing, his husband had given him the perfect opportunity to needle Sam some more and make his brother squirm. So how to follow up on it? He was still trying to decide when another thought occurred to him.
"What are you looking at anyway, Cas?" Dean asked.
"Fan fiction."
"Fan fiction?" Sam questioned. "Oh, God, is that the slash thing?"
"Yes," Castiel confirmed easily.
Dean dropped his head to his book with a loud thud. It was as much to hide his smile as his embarrassment. God but he loved his angel even if he couldn't figure out how his mind worked sometimes because, really, fan fiction?
The moment his husband's head tilted, Dean knew it would be a good even before the foreign arousal hit him.
"What?" Dean asked, completely unable to resist.
"This is not physically possible."
"What's not physically possible?" Sam questioned, getting up.
Dean stared at his brother in disbelief. Surely Sam couldn't think that this would be something unrelated to the fan fiction?
"Dean can't bend like that," Castiel stated just as Sam looked over his shoulder.
"Oh, God, my eyes!" Sam cried out, jerking back. "What the hell is that?"
"Fan art."
"Fan art?" Dean questioned, getting up to see for himself.
"Hm."
"Why the hell did that look so much like you guys?" Sam demanded from across the room.
"Look like us?"
"It would seem that Rebecca Rosen had some nature of recording device in the house the last time that we were there as her site has photos of us and Michael."
"What?" Dean exclaimed, cringing as he leaned over for a look.
Castiel was right, the position he'd been contorted into for the drawing was impossible, but it was surprisingly hot nonetheless. Plus whoever had done the drawing had been quite generous with his proportions, quite generous indeed. He could only assume that his husband's proportions were equally well endowed but Castiel's cock wasn't actually visible, buried as it was in his ass.
"Shall we do the physically possible equivalent of this position?" Castiel whispered in his ear.
"Hell, yeah," Dean replied, eyes flashing to his angel hungrily.
A.N.: I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and have a Happy New Year too!
Chapter 180
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 3,625
Summary: The air was sharp with arid smoke and the cries of the wounded and dying.
PRESENT
The air was sharp with arid smoke and the cries of the wounded and dying, none of which had any place here. Neither did the Darkness which had crept in, irreparably tainting that which he held most precious; his family and his home.
Shock was still the foremost emotion singing through his Grace and it was hard for him to process exactly what had happened as it had all been so sudden, so completely unexpected. Yes, he'd known that something was up with his brother- indeed it had been a long time since he'd seen Lucifer even remotely calm or at ease- but he'd thought it just a phase. Something which would pass and leave his little brother as he had always been, happy and bright, a true joy to be around. Now, however, he knew better, just as he knew that this could not have happened overnight. How long had this been going on? How long had his brother been threading down this path?
How long had he not seen it?
The last question bothered him the most and he realized that he simply didn't know. Was it therefore partially his fault? Had his inattention allowed for this to happen? But how could he have known? What Lucifer had done, what Lucifer was doing, was incomprehensible. How could his brother possibly think that he could truly challenge their Father? How could he think that he even stood a chance? Above and beyond that, how could Lucifer even consider defying God? Father was all powerful, Father was all knowing.
Father was.
Even he himself, first created of all of Father's creations, would never have even thought to contemplate the very action that Lucifer had chosen as his own. That fact stunned him to his very core and it was a struggle in order to even comprehend the fact that it had happened. His brother had defied their Father! If he couldn't feel the Darkness that had entered Heaven for the first time himself, or hear the cries of his brothers and sisters as Lucifer and those who had chosen to join him attacked them, he would never have believed it to be true.
As it was, however, there was little time for disbelief or lamentation as to what it was that might have driven his brother to this vile and despicable action. No, instead, now was the time to react and defend. While he may have no point of reference for what it was that Lucifer was doing, he knew far more than he required of combat and defense in order to knew precisely how to act. He had been created a warrior, his Father's right hand angel and enforcer. Even before he could feel God reaching out to him, he already knew what it was that he had to do despite how his Grace cried out for him not to. Though he wanted to do nothing more than to hold Lucifer and forgive him, he knew that his brother had broken something today which could not be fixed.
There was angelic blood on Lucifer's hands now, the blood of his own brothers and sisters, and this was one thing which he could not allow. He would always love his brother, but if it came down to a choice between defending the little ones or striking his brother down, he knew in his Grace what it was that he had to do. For if he didn't then Father only knew how many other brothers and sisters that he would lose today. The searing pain of Jophiel's death hit him hard and the next thing that he knew, he stood before Lucifer, their blades crossed as his brother smiled cruelly at him.
"Hello, Michael, I was beginning to think that you wouldn't come," Lucifer greeted him, disengaging and stepping back arrogantly. "Finally decided to deign us with your presence then, hmm?"
"Lucifer," he breathed, the knowledge of what was happening hardly able to prepare him for the mere sight of it.
All around him his brothers and sisters were fighting for their very lives. Fighting as he had often seen them do before, only this time it wasn't demons that they faced, but rather the fallen amongst them. Their very own brothers and sisters who had chosen jealousy and Darkness over the love of their Father, twisting their very essences in a way that he couldn't face without cringing, his own Grace shrinking inside himself in horror at the mere sight.
"Stop this madness," he continued. "Halt it now before it's too late."
"I think it's already too late, Brother, far too late."
"No it is not, Father is merciful."
"Father is a fool."
"Lucifer!"
"But of course, it is too much to hope for you to understand that. You're nothing but His puppet, His ever faithful and unquestioning servant. His little mindlessly obedient attack dog."
"Brother, I-"
"No, I've heard all that you have to say, Michael. I've had enough of your excuses for Him. I will not bow down to those vile, hairless apes that crawl around in the mud like vermin, and if that is what Father wishes of us, then He is wrong!"
The hateful words were followed by a fierce thrust of Lucifer's sword and he had no choice but to raise his own and react or be skewered. Though it weighed heavy on his heart, he knew that he had to strike his brother down. Between what Lucifer had done to their siblings, Jophiel foremost amongst them, and his brother's stubborn refusal to see reason there was simply no other course of action left available to him though he dearly wished that there was. It was as he was struggling to determine what to do that the answer came to him and he silently thanked Father from whom he knew the knowledge had come much as the idea of locking his brother up like that pained him.
The mere thought of Lucifer trapped down there alone, away from them and Father's Light and Grace was horrendous and he faltered slightly, allowing his brother to wound him. The physical pain seared him, burning his Grace, but hardly compared to his mental anguish. Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to be the one to do this to his little brother? The thoughts only flitted across his mind for an instant, but the pain they brought was excruciating. The knowledge that Lucifer had brought this not only upon himself but upon them all rallied him though. None of this would be happening if his brother hadn't allowed himself to fall to pride and self-righteousness.
The conviction gave him strength and he struck back, determined not to let Lucifer harm any other of his brothers and sisters who depended on him to protect them. They fought, savagely trading blows, each wounding the other as they flew from one end of battlefield that Heaven had become to the other, scattering lesser angels in their way like startled birds. Most of the fight was one horrific blur to him of horror, pain and denial until he finally managed to strike his brother down.
The look of disbelief and sheer betrayal on Lucifer's face as he fell tore him up inside and he felt himself crying out along with his little brother.
A cry that Dean echoed as he bolted upright in his bed, the images and emotions of the nightmare still swirling around him even as he finally ripped himself free from their horrid embrace, gasping.
"Dean? Are you alright?"
His brother's voice drifted into the room just as Dean heard the flutter of wings beside him. He threw himself into his bond mate's arms, uncaring of how he'd look when Sam entered the room.
"Hush, Beloved," Castiel whispered as the door to the bedroom flew open.
"Dean?" Sam demanded worriedly before he stopped and blinked. "Oh, sorry."
"I have only just arrived myself," Castiel reassured.
"I see. What happened?"
"Nightmare," Dean mumbled, embarrassed.
"Nightmare? Of Hell?" Sam asked, surprised.
"No."
A slight pressure in his mind and Dean easily allowed his husband in, pushing the memory of the nightmare at Castiel.
Sam frowned. "Then what?"
"Heaven, the Rebellion," Dean replied softly, seeking to distract himself from the memory Castiel was even now watching.
"The rebellion? Wait, you mean the rebellion? Lucifer's?"
"Yeah."
"How? You weren't even there!"
"No, but Mike was."
At first his brother frowned but Dean could see the moment that Sam understood what he meant as his little brother's eyes opened wide in shock before worry began to cloud them over.
"That... that's not good, is it?"
"No. Mike and I seem to be becoming far closer than a vessel and an angel normally do and we don't know how or why."
"And you're still doing it? Are you insane, Dean?"
"We have to, Sam. Without me and Mike being together we don't stand a chance."
"A chance of doing what? Dean, we don't even know what we're going to do! How can you know that this is the only way?"
"Because we wouldn't be where we are if I hadn't said yes to Mike. It allowed us to keep Lucifer without a vessel for months. That's months where he couldn't just do whatever the hell he wanted and that we had to focus on finding a way to break the Rite of Contressa. Months of time that we gained to find an another way to end this Apocalypse."
"An another way that hasn't been found yet."
"True, but at least we now know what not to try. Though it's not what we wanted, it has allowed us to check a lot of sources which we can now rule out." Sam sighed and Dean could see that his brother had no argument against that. "Look, it's not that I want to end up permanently fused to Mike or anything, but until we find another way to defeat Lucifer or find proof that Mike and I really won't be able to separate, we have no choice but to keep going as we are. Besides at the moment we just seem to be exchanging memories."
"Subconsciously," Castiel stated, coming back to them.
"Well, yeah, obviously."
"And you're okay with this, Cas?" Sam questioned.
"I do not like it, but I know that Michael would not risk Dean if my brother thought that there was another way or that there was a real risk of being permanently fused to Dean by simply taking him as his vessel."
"I still don't like it."
Dean snorted. "Trust me, none of us do."
/
"Yield! I yield!" Gwen cried out, laughing.
Dean instantly stopped tickling her and released his grip on her wrists. It had started out as a simple sparing match but he'd been unable to resist the opportunity to tease her once he'd had her pinned and she'd refused to admit defeat. In a way he admired Gwen's determination, but on the other hand he didn't think that just giving in whenever he had her pinned would make her learn to do better as quickly as she could. Therefore the tickling was an added incentive, a teaching tool.
At least that was his story and he was sticking to it.
"I have not seen that particular tactic utilized before," Raphael stated.
Gwen yelped and spun around and Dean laughed. It continually amused him to watch his human family be caught off-guard and startled whenever one of his angels showed up as they couldn't hear their arrival like he could. He was pretty sure that his husband and bond brothers also took as much pleasure from this fact as he did, Raphael in particular.
"Don't do that!" Gwen complained, hand at her chest. "You're gonna give me a heart attack doing that one of these days."
"Well then it's a good thing that Raphael's specialty is healing, isn't it?" Dean queried.
"I'd prefer not to have the heart attack in the first place, thank you very much."
Still grinning, Dean turned his attention back to his bond brother. "Tickling isn't really a tactic used on the battlefield, I just couldn't resist doing it as I know that Gwen's particularly sensitive to it."
"Tickling?"
"It's a human thing which you guys can turn on and off at will. Or at least Cas can and he has ever since the first time as he didn't particularly enjoy it."
"You tickled your angel?" Gwen asked, amused.
"Yeah, he'd done it to me accidentally and didn't get my reaction to it."
"So it would not be a new tactic to try then?" Raphael checked.
"Well, you could always try, I suppose, but I wouldn't particularly recommend it. Hell, I don't even know if demons are ticklish so I'd definitely not waste time trying it on the battlefield, but if you've got one at your mercy, I suppose you always could. Though I think the adrenaline might overcome their response to it even if they are ticklish."
"I see."
"So, I guess you're here to give Dean a break?" Gwen asked Raphael.
"Yes, he thought it might be good for you to test your skills against an angelic opponent."
"Lucky me."
Dean smiled at the wariness in his cousin's voice. The fact that she wasn't underestimating his bond brother was an excellent start and he couldn't wait to see how Gwen handled the reality of fighting an angel. He'd taken the time to cover what he knew of angelic strengths and weaknesses with her and knew that it was time for a test run so to speak. There was only so much that theoretical lessons would teach her after all and he knew that she really needed to have some practical experience facing an angel before it happened for real when the angel she stood against would have no compunctions killing her. He'd gotten some wooden sparing sticks to use in lieu of angelic swords and he got those out now before retreating to what he assumed was a safe distance and settling down to watch.
Raphael and Gwen circled each other at first, carefully eyeing up their opponent and Dean was happy to see that his bond brother wasn't merely assuming that he could handle her out right. Though there was little doubt in his mind as to how this would go and who would win, he was glad to see that the archangel had learned not to underestimate humans and take the outcome of a fight with them for granted. It was a mark of how far Raphael had come and he couldn't help but feel proud at that as he knew this particular change in his bond brother was almost entirely down to him. The first few blows exchanged between his cousin and Raphael were quick and experimental, each of them testing the other's reflexes and defenses, before they separated once more and circled each other some more.
"Crap, what'd I miss?" Sam demanded, appearing by his side and dropping to the ground next to him. "Have they been at it long?"
"Nope, they just started," Dean replied, glancing at his brother. "Ready for your turn after this?"
"No, but I doubt I'll feel ready when it becomes real so I guess it doesn't really matter."
"With any luck it won't ever happen."
Sam snorted. "That's not likely."
"I don't know, Lucifer wants you alive and whole, so I can't see Simiel or any other angel with them challenging you to a fight."
"They're not the only angels out there."
The words made Dean frown. "No, but the others are with Heaven and Cas wouldn't allow them to attack you."
"All of them? I mean, really? After everything that's happened do you really think that Cas has control of all of the angels that aren't with Lucifer?"
"Yes, he'd have told me if there was any dissident among the ranks about this. You're probably the only human out there who is safe from every single angel still in existence. I'd revel in that fact if I were you, it's a blessing."
"A blessing, huh?"
"Oh, shut up. You know what I mean."
Sam laughed sharply. "I think you've been spending far too much time around angels."
"Bitch."
"Jerk."
/
Angels were weird.
Dean wasn't quite sure how or why it was that this fact continued to surprise him, but somehow it did. He'd chosen to read this particular Enochian book himself in light of its subject matter as it was on the fall of angels and he'd thought that his husband and bond brothers might not wish to read that themselves. He'd expected to be insulted from time to time, but the author of this particular book had actually not had a derogatory view of humans. The angel totally hadn't gotten why some of his brothers and sisters might wish to fall, but he hadn't looked down on humans. He just hadn't gotten them. Which was precisely what had led to some rather interesting thoughts and musings on the part of the author.
Still, angels had to be weird to come up with some of this shit.
The description of how it might be to go through life with a giant Grace sized hole within one made Dean smile. It also made him shake his head. It was more amusing than anything else to him that Grace was so central to the author's whole world view that he couldn't even image that a fallen angel who had no memory of their previous life like Anna wouldn't miss it. The author's description of the process of tearing one's Grace out, however, was so detailed and graphic that he was sure that they'd seen one of their siblings do it. Surprisingly the thought saddened him.
"Dean?" Castiel asked, breaking the silence.
"Mm?"
"Can we get caramel sauce?"
"What, now? Bobby and Gwen are probably already on the way back."
"I can get it, but you still have the special sheets, right?"
"Sheets? What she- oh," Dean replied as the penny suddenly dropped. Those sheets. "Yeah, I still have 'em, but at home."
It wasn't until he'd said it that Dean realized what he was gonna say. Home. He hadn't thought about it for a while, but it really had been. It's where he and Castiel had settled and accumulated their stuff. Out of nowhere he had a sudden fierce longing for their kalsika and the Andaluzyian crystal. Perhaps he'd have to go back and get them.
A glance up and Dean froze at the expression on Sam's face, stuck halfway between disgusted and stricken. The hurt in his brother's eyes twisted something within him but he forced it aside. If Sam hadn't considered his apartment with Jess home then he'd eat his shoes. As for the other, well if his brother wasn't disgusted it wouldn't be nearly as much fun to tease him even if that hadn't been his angel's intention in this particular instance.
"Whose computer is that, Cas?" Sam inquired, in what Dean could instantly tell was a desperate attempt to change the subject.
"Dean's," Castiel replied, not looking up from the screen.
"Dean's?" Sam repeated, turning to look at him in surprise. "You got a laptop?"
"Well, yeah, it's just so much easier to find hunts online that to wade through dozens of newspapers."
Not one to let his little brother off lightly if at all possible, Dean thought of a way to turn the conversation back round on itself. Unbeknownst to what he was doing, his husband had given him the perfect opportunity to needle Sam some more and make his brother squirm. So how to follow up on it? He was still trying to decide when another thought occurred to him.
"What are you looking at anyway, Cas?" Dean asked.
"Fan fiction."
"Fan fiction?" Sam questioned. "Oh, God, is that the slash thing?"
"Yes," Castiel confirmed easily.
Dean dropped his head to his book with a loud thud. It was as much to hide his smile as his embarrassment. God but he loved his angel even if he couldn't figure out how his mind worked sometimes because, really, fan fiction?
The moment his husband's head tilted, Dean knew it would be a good even before the foreign arousal hit him.
"What?" Dean asked, completely unable to resist.
"This is not physically possible."
"What's not physically possible?" Sam questioned, getting up.
Dean stared at his brother in disbelief. Surely Sam couldn't think that this would be something unrelated to the fan fiction?
"Dean can't bend like that," Castiel stated just as Sam looked over his shoulder.
"Oh, God, my eyes!" Sam cried out, jerking back. "What the hell is that?"
"Fan art."
"Fan art?" Dean questioned, getting up to see for himself.
"Hm."
"Why the hell did that look so much like you guys?" Sam demanded from across the room.
"Look like us?"
"It would seem that Rebecca Rosen had some nature of recording device in the house the last time that we were there as her site has photos of us and Michael."
"What?" Dean exclaimed, cringing as he leaned over for a look.
Castiel was right, the position he'd been contorted into for the drawing was impossible, but it was surprisingly hot nonetheless. Plus whoever had done the drawing had been quite generous with his proportions, quite generous indeed. He could only assume that his husband's proportions were equally well endowed but Castiel's cock wasn't actually visible, buried as it was in his ass.
"Shall we do the physically possible equivalent of this position?" Castiel whispered in his ear.
"Hell, yeah," Dean replied, eyes flashing to his angel hungrily.
A.N.: I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and have a Happy New Year too!
Chapter 180