Fic: Prisoner of Love (22/27)
MASTERPOST / AO3
A/N: I'm sorry for the long ass absence. Good news is, the rest of the story is (mostly) finished, so it will be steadily updated from now on.
~:~:~
"Cas, you're back early!"
Castiel was escorted back to his cell after Crowley had left his office to attend to the visiting DEA officers. Dean promptly dropped the book he was reading and stepped out of bed, flashing a bright smile.
"I was dismissed," Cas responded coldly, shooting past where Dean stood. He climbed onto the upper bed and flopped flat on his stomach, face to the wall, leaving no space for Dean to settle next to him.
Long silence fell heavy on them. Now that Castiel was back in his cell, he could practically feel the ugliness seeping out of his every pore, searing the span of his skin. He didn't need to look to know Dean was assuming that little puzzled look on his face: the one that had Dean's eyebrows knitted in the center. What he would do to place his fingers there, leisurely smoothing those troubled lines.
"What happened?" Dean asked.
"Nothing"
Cas scowled at the wall for the reply that slipped off his lips a little too quickly. It was this kind of blunder that would tip Dean off. No matter what he had threatened Crowley, he had no intention of letting Dean know what went down between him and the warden.
"Well, did you get to search the office?" Dean inquired. Of course, Cas was in the wrong to assume Dean would at all be wavered by Cas' strange demeanor, or that Dean would care more about him than that piece of evidence he needed to find. Its importance was apparently unrivalled.
"I did." Cas kept his voice as neutral as he could. He didn't want to come back here, if it was up to him. He didn't want to face Dean, but that kind of liberty was not a luxury offered in prison.
"Find anything?"
Cas sighed, "Yes"
"And where is it?" Dean pressed on.
"Somewhere safe"
"What do you mean somewhere safe?"
Castiel didn't miss the agitated tone in Dean's voice. "It means somewhere safe," he retorted. "I'll give it to Sam when he comes tomorrow."
"What do you mean-"
"I'm tired, Dean!" Cas snapped. He knew his place. He knew all Dean cared about was his task, and not him. "Leave me alone."
Cas' chest tightened at the last word. Did he just ask Dean to leave him for now, or for good? Maybe Dean should leave him, period. Cas was nothing but a whore. His life would be much easier by himself; he wouldn't need to worry whom he might hurt or disappoint, what hope or future his filthy self might shatter.
Tears flowed down his eyes, and Castiel let them. He forced himself not to sniffle, because even the faintest sound or the slightest movement would serve as a telltale sign, letting Dean know what he was hiding behind his stoic posture.
Who was he kidding? How could he think he could keep what happened between him and Crowley unknown to Dean, when Dean was this close and all he wanted was to seek comfort in Dean's loving touches? All he longed for was to hear Dean say that he had done well and everything was going to be alright.
But it was out of the question. Instead of finding solace, the truth would crush Dean. This place would be torn to shreds in Dean's frenzy. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know. Even Crowley knew it, and he was betting on Cas' fortitude to keep the ground intact. A trait Castiel wished he never demonstrated.
Enduring some pervert fucking his face was far easier than this.
Castiel shivered when a familiar hand softly petted his head. He swallowed his whimper and sniffed back his frailty that was on the verge of collapsing.
"Cas, baby, what's wrong?" Dean asked, his fingers still carding through Cas' hair, his voice as tender as his caress.
Cas' throat closed in on him. He could hide it no longer. There was no point. There was no denying the obvious. "Go away, please," he choked out instead.
He should have listened to Dean. What a fool he was to think he could handle Crowley on his own. His folly had ripped them apart, and now he had to let Dean go.
"Where can I go, Cas? I only have you. Where can I go?"
Cas sat upright. He wanted to argue that there were a hundred places Dean could go to, and ninety-nine of them were where Cas wasn't. But it was a mistake. As soon as he moved, he had an armful of Dean.
Cas struggled, but Dean shushed him. Dean shushed him and held him tight until Cas gave up his fight. Dissolving into tears, words of apologies poured from his lips, asking Dean for forgiveness, begging Dean not to take revenge. His throat was parched, his nose blocked, and his eyes were swollen so bad it hurt. Still, he couldn't hold it in, washed over by feelings of warmth and security begotten from Dean's embrace.
He may need to keep up his tough façade in front of everyone, but in presence of Dean, he could throw away his masquerade. He could be weak, be vulnerable, and be safe.
Dean remained silent all through his sobbing, his grasp strong, unyielding. When Cas quieted down, Dean pulled him back enough to see. "You're crying your pretty eyes out again," he commented casually. Grabbing a clean piece of undershirt, Dean wiped Cas' face with it. Then he held it over Cas' nose and ordered him to blow.
Cas was reluctant, naturally.
"Come on. You need to breathe," Dean nudged.
Cas took the shirt from Dean, and blew his nose. After he finished cleaning his face, which Cas was sure was a puffy mess right now, he got a full-on beaming Dean in front of him.
"There you go." Seemingly satisfied that Cas had stopped crying, Dean teased, "Kiss me, maybe?"
And Cas was tempted. He couldn't help being fascinated by those luscious lips. Dean always had a smile for him - when they were happy, when they were sad. When Dean masked their misfortunes behind his impassive countenance, it was solid enough for the both of them.
That was, until Cas remembered where his mouth had been. He drew back, suddenly realizing he would never be able to kiss Dean again.
"Whoa, Cas, sorry." Holding both hands in front of him, Dean was quick to remedy, but was it ever quick enough? "It's fine. Come on, it's fine."
He expected Dean to lash out, to demand answers, to throw his fist into the wall. That was the Dean he knew. Instead, Dean seemed collected, like the calm before the storm. It was as if Dean had everything all mapped out: he could decipher Cas' dirty secrets with littlest clues; he had his vengeance plan kicking into gear, and no matter how much Cas begged Dean not to, he could never prevent the outcome.
Cas grabbed the soiled undershirt and heaved into it.
When Cas finished, Dean carefully balled up the shirt and jumped to the floor to throw it in the trash bin. He gestured for Cas to follow him. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up," he said.
Cas swung his legs over the bed railing, and Dean hauled him down. He let Dean take off his shirt, rinse his mouth and clean his face with tap water. Dean dressed him with a fresh prison scrub and laid him down on the lower bed. When they settled, Dean carefully kissed his forehead.
"Get some rest. No one can hurt you now."
He did want to hear that, but, somehow, hearing it now was much scarier than he'd ever admit.
~:~:~
"Took you long enough"
Sitting with one leg up on the other, reclining on the leather chair behind his work desk, the warden commented before blowing the nails he was filing, without looking up.
"You said you wouldn't hurt him," Dean hissed. He might be in cuffs and chains, but it took more than physical restraints to stop him from ripping the man's throat.
Heedless of the prisoner's temper, Crowley blew his nails a few more times and carefully placed the file on his desk. He turned to look Dean in the eyes, his gaze cold, daunting. "I changed my mind."
"What," Dean growled; his entire body trembled from pent-up anger, "do you want?"
Crowley remained still, like he was being patient, waiting, expecting - though the sneer at the end of his sentence betrayed him. "I believe we already had that conversation, Dean."
Dean's nostrils flared, then he closed his eyes and took one long, deep breath, willing his frantic heartbeat still. "What do I have to do?" He tried again. His voice shook, but only slightly.
Because Dean needed an opportunity to be in this room, to see if Cas' somewhere safe was right under Crowley's nose.
The warden's lips curved up into a lopsided smile. "Now we are talking," he said. Getting up from his seat, Crowley rounded his desk and took the keys from the prison guard. He walked over to unlock Dean's cuffs.
Inches away from him, Dean never wondered why he didn't take that chance to cut off Crowley's breath and end the story, right there.
And if Crowley knew what Dean was capable of, he didn't show fear. Instead, he remained where he was, even after Dean was free. Both of them fixed their stare at each other. None of them backed down.
Finally, it was the warden who spoke. "I don't want your obligation, Dean. I want your loyalty. Be my Dean Winchester, my glorious partner in crime," he leered.
Dean shivered with disgust. He didn't know what'd gotten into him, allowing Cas to be alone in the room with this sicko. He should have gone with his other plan; the plan that was a day too late, but was now kicking into gear.
"We could rule this hell together, you and I," Crowley continued.
Dean let his signature smug smile creep up his face, victory a sight not too far to see, burning like fire in his eyes.
~:~:~
His eyelids felt heavy. The familiar voice seemed distant, yet cozy.
"Cas, baby, wake up."
Castiel forced his eyes open. Dean was not lying on the bed, but towering over him. It was still dark, yet Dean was fully awake.
And alert, if he might add.
"Dean?"
Dean shushed him before he could say another word. "We need to leave, now."
Cas would have thought he was dreaming, if not for the urgent tone in Dean's voice. He remembered going to sleep, curling up with Dean. After the morning incident, they had lunch together; neither of them touched their food. Then Dean disappeared all afternoon. He didn't see Dean again until after the last call of the evening, when Dean kept telling him he didn't need to go back to Crowley's office; that everything had been taken care of.
Dean ripped the top bunk mattress with his bare hands; couldn't care less whether he would be punished for ruining government property. He took out what looked like, from the glimpse Cas caught, a makeshift weapon, and tucked it under his clothes.
Cas was grateful it was not given to him. He had no idea how to keep the sharp object without cutting himself, let alone use it.
Grabbing his hand, Dean led them past their cell gate, which was, shockingly, left open. He was pretty sure it was securely shut when he fell asleep.
Walking down the hall, Cas noticed it was not only their cell that had its gate left open, but all other cells as well. He gasped. Most inmates were still out like a light, oblivious to their freedom at hand.
"Dean, what's going on?" Cas asked.
Instead of giving a reply, Dean shushed him. He approached a prison guard, who stood in the hallway, stupefied, if Cas' eyes were not deceiving him.
"Walk quietly with me," Dean whispered to the officer, but Cas was familiar with the soft tone enough to easily catch it. Dean grabbed the unmoving man by the arm and paced to a door, Cas following close on their heels.
The trio passed the door to what Castiel knew was a control room. There were three other officers there and a lot of CCTV monitors lined up a wall. The screens were all blank.
Dean manually barred the door and asked, "What happened?"
When one of the officers replied, his tone was devastated. Beads of sweat scattered across his forehead. "We seem to have lost all electronics control. All doors were unlocked and we can't shut it back down. All surveillance is gone and we lost all kinds of communication."
Suddenly there was a sound of explosion; loud enough to make all of them cower. If any inmates were conked out previously, they were sure as hell wide awake now.
"Get out of here, all of you," Dean rushed the officers to the other exit. "Grab everyone along the way. Run fast and get some help. This place is going to erupt soon." When they were stunned, Dean barked, "Now!"
Dean grabbed the last officer before he could slip through the door. "Where's Garth?" he asked.
"He's on the hotbox tonight." As soon as he replied, the officer sprinted away.
"Shit," Dean cussed. He looked anxious for a second, before noises started forming behind the door to their block. Dean darted for it.
"I need to find Gabriel and Chuck," Dean said to Castiel, one hand clutching the bolt. His face was fierce and feral, the kind that sent chills running down Cas' spine. "Do not open this door to anyone but me, understood?"
Cas shivered as Dean thundered his command. "What have you done, Dean?" he asked. His voice came out smaller than he'd have liked it to be, but the gravity of what was happening before them frightened him. "I told you not to do anything. Why are you doing this?"
Dean's glare directed at him was nothing if not deadly. Without doubt Crowley's sexual violation on him must have been the last straw. Dean had had enough and had resolved to doing everything his way.
Cas couldn't help thinking of the casualty tolls that would accumulate. There was a blast which meant there was a fire. Firemen would not be sent in unless order was restored. Emergency Response Team could not quell the unrest unless the fire was quenched, and so on. It would take hours before all could be subdued, by which time they would be long gone, no turning back. Dean was viciously wicked to come up with this plan.
"You need to have more faith in me, Cas," Dean said crossly. "This is not my doing."
~:~:~
A/N: Thank you for reading!
A/N: I'm sorry for the long ass absence. Good news is, the rest of the story is (mostly) finished, so it will be steadily updated from now on.
~:~:~
"Cas, you're back early!"
Castiel was escorted back to his cell after Crowley had left his office to attend to the visiting DEA officers. Dean promptly dropped the book he was reading and stepped out of bed, flashing a bright smile.
"I was dismissed," Cas responded coldly, shooting past where Dean stood. He climbed onto the upper bed and flopped flat on his stomach, face to the wall, leaving no space for Dean to settle next to him.
Long silence fell heavy on them. Now that Castiel was back in his cell, he could practically feel the ugliness seeping out of his every pore, searing the span of his skin. He didn't need to look to know Dean was assuming that little puzzled look on his face: the one that had Dean's eyebrows knitted in the center. What he would do to place his fingers there, leisurely smoothing those troubled lines.
"What happened?" Dean asked.
"Nothing"
Cas scowled at the wall for the reply that slipped off his lips a little too quickly. It was this kind of blunder that would tip Dean off. No matter what he had threatened Crowley, he had no intention of letting Dean know what went down between him and the warden.
"Well, did you get to search the office?" Dean inquired. Of course, Cas was in the wrong to assume Dean would at all be wavered by Cas' strange demeanor, or that Dean would care more about him than that piece of evidence he needed to find. Its importance was apparently unrivalled.
"I did." Cas kept his voice as neutral as he could. He didn't want to come back here, if it was up to him. He didn't want to face Dean, but that kind of liberty was not a luxury offered in prison.
"Find anything?"
Cas sighed, "Yes"
"And where is it?" Dean pressed on.
"Somewhere safe"
"What do you mean somewhere safe?"
Castiel didn't miss the agitated tone in Dean's voice. "It means somewhere safe," he retorted. "I'll give it to Sam when he comes tomorrow."
"What do you mean-"
"I'm tired, Dean!" Cas snapped. He knew his place. He knew all Dean cared about was his task, and not him. "Leave me alone."
Cas' chest tightened at the last word. Did he just ask Dean to leave him for now, or for good? Maybe Dean should leave him, period. Cas was nothing but a whore. His life would be much easier by himself; he wouldn't need to worry whom he might hurt or disappoint, what hope or future his filthy self might shatter.
Tears flowed down his eyes, and Castiel let them. He forced himself not to sniffle, because even the faintest sound or the slightest movement would serve as a telltale sign, letting Dean know what he was hiding behind his stoic posture.
Who was he kidding? How could he think he could keep what happened between him and Crowley unknown to Dean, when Dean was this close and all he wanted was to seek comfort in Dean's loving touches? All he longed for was to hear Dean say that he had done well and everything was going to be alright.
But it was out of the question. Instead of finding solace, the truth would crush Dean. This place would be torn to shreds in Dean's frenzy. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know. Even Crowley knew it, and he was betting on Cas' fortitude to keep the ground intact. A trait Castiel wished he never demonstrated.
Enduring some pervert fucking his face was far easier than this.
Castiel shivered when a familiar hand softly petted his head. He swallowed his whimper and sniffed back his frailty that was on the verge of collapsing.
"Cas, baby, what's wrong?" Dean asked, his fingers still carding through Cas' hair, his voice as tender as his caress.
Cas' throat closed in on him. He could hide it no longer. There was no point. There was no denying the obvious. "Go away, please," he choked out instead.
He should have listened to Dean. What a fool he was to think he could handle Crowley on his own. His folly had ripped them apart, and now he had to let Dean go.
"Where can I go, Cas? I only have you. Where can I go?"
Cas sat upright. He wanted to argue that there were a hundred places Dean could go to, and ninety-nine of them were where Cas wasn't. But it was a mistake. As soon as he moved, he had an armful of Dean.
Cas struggled, but Dean shushed him. Dean shushed him and held him tight until Cas gave up his fight. Dissolving into tears, words of apologies poured from his lips, asking Dean for forgiveness, begging Dean not to take revenge. His throat was parched, his nose blocked, and his eyes were swollen so bad it hurt. Still, he couldn't hold it in, washed over by feelings of warmth and security begotten from Dean's embrace.
He may need to keep up his tough façade in front of everyone, but in presence of Dean, he could throw away his masquerade. He could be weak, be vulnerable, and be safe.
Dean remained silent all through his sobbing, his grasp strong, unyielding. When Cas quieted down, Dean pulled him back enough to see. "You're crying your pretty eyes out again," he commented casually. Grabbing a clean piece of undershirt, Dean wiped Cas' face with it. Then he held it over Cas' nose and ordered him to blow.
Cas was reluctant, naturally.
"Come on. You need to breathe," Dean nudged.
Cas took the shirt from Dean, and blew his nose. After he finished cleaning his face, which Cas was sure was a puffy mess right now, he got a full-on beaming Dean in front of him.
"There you go." Seemingly satisfied that Cas had stopped crying, Dean teased, "Kiss me, maybe?"
And Cas was tempted. He couldn't help being fascinated by those luscious lips. Dean always had a smile for him - when they were happy, when they were sad. When Dean masked their misfortunes behind his impassive countenance, it was solid enough for the both of them.
That was, until Cas remembered where his mouth had been. He drew back, suddenly realizing he would never be able to kiss Dean again.
"Whoa, Cas, sorry." Holding both hands in front of him, Dean was quick to remedy, but was it ever quick enough? "It's fine. Come on, it's fine."
He expected Dean to lash out, to demand answers, to throw his fist into the wall. That was the Dean he knew. Instead, Dean seemed collected, like the calm before the storm. It was as if Dean had everything all mapped out: he could decipher Cas' dirty secrets with littlest clues; he had his vengeance plan kicking into gear, and no matter how much Cas begged Dean not to, he could never prevent the outcome.
Cas grabbed the soiled undershirt and heaved into it.
When Cas finished, Dean carefully balled up the shirt and jumped to the floor to throw it in the trash bin. He gestured for Cas to follow him. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up," he said.
Cas swung his legs over the bed railing, and Dean hauled him down. He let Dean take off his shirt, rinse his mouth and clean his face with tap water. Dean dressed him with a fresh prison scrub and laid him down on the lower bed. When they settled, Dean carefully kissed his forehead.
"Get some rest. No one can hurt you now."
He did want to hear that, but, somehow, hearing it now was much scarier than he'd ever admit.
~:~:~
"Took you long enough"
Sitting with one leg up on the other, reclining on the leather chair behind his work desk, the warden commented before blowing the nails he was filing, without looking up.
"You said you wouldn't hurt him," Dean hissed. He might be in cuffs and chains, but it took more than physical restraints to stop him from ripping the man's throat.
Heedless of the prisoner's temper, Crowley blew his nails a few more times and carefully placed the file on his desk. He turned to look Dean in the eyes, his gaze cold, daunting. "I changed my mind."
"What," Dean growled; his entire body trembled from pent-up anger, "do you want?"
Crowley remained still, like he was being patient, waiting, expecting - though the sneer at the end of his sentence betrayed him. "I believe we already had that conversation, Dean."
Dean's nostrils flared, then he closed his eyes and took one long, deep breath, willing his frantic heartbeat still. "What do I have to do?" He tried again. His voice shook, but only slightly.
Because Dean needed an opportunity to be in this room, to see if Cas' somewhere safe was right under Crowley's nose.
The warden's lips curved up into a lopsided smile. "Now we are talking," he said. Getting up from his seat, Crowley rounded his desk and took the keys from the prison guard. He walked over to unlock Dean's cuffs.
Inches away from him, Dean never wondered why he didn't take that chance to cut off Crowley's breath and end the story, right there.
And if Crowley knew what Dean was capable of, he didn't show fear. Instead, he remained where he was, even after Dean was free. Both of them fixed their stare at each other. None of them backed down.
Finally, it was the warden who spoke. "I don't want your obligation, Dean. I want your loyalty. Be my Dean Winchester, my glorious partner in crime," he leered.
Dean shivered with disgust. He didn't know what'd gotten into him, allowing Cas to be alone in the room with this sicko. He should have gone with his other plan; the plan that was a day too late, but was now kicking into gear.
"We could rule this hell together, you and I," Crowley continued.
Dean let his signature smug smile creep up his face, victory a sight not too far to see, burning like fire in his eyes.
~:~:~
His eyelids felt heavy. The familiar voice seemed distant, yet cozy.
"Cas, baby, wake up."
Castiel forced his eyes open. Dean was not lying on the bed, but towering over him. It was still dark, yet Dean was fully awake.
And alert, if he might add.
"Dean?"
Dean shushed him before he could say another word. "We need to leave, now."
Cas would have thought he was dreaming, if not for the urgent tone in Dean's voice. He remembered going to sleep, curling up with Dean. After the morning incident, they had lunch together; neither of them touched their food. Then Dean disappeared all afternoon. He didn't see Dean again until after the last call of the evening, when Dean kept telling him he didn't need to go back to Crowley's office; that everything had been taken care of.
Dean ripped the top bunk mattress with his bare hands; couldn't care less whether he would be punished for ruining government property. He took out what looked like, from the glimpse Cas caught, a makeshift weapon, and tucked it under his clothes.
Cas was grateful it was not given to him. He had no idea how to keep the sharp object without cutting himself, let alone use it.
Grabbing his hand, Dean led them past their cell gate, which was, shockingly, left open. He was pretty sure it was securely shut when he fell asleep.
Walking down the hall, Cas noticed it was not only their cell that had its gate left open, but all other cells as well. He gasped. Most inmates were still out like a light, oblivious to their freedom at hand.
"Dean, what's going on?" Cas asked.
Instead of giving a reply, Dean shushed him. He approached a prison guard, who stood in the hallway, stupefied, if Cas' eyes were not deceiving him.
"Walk quietly with me," Dean whispered to the officer, but Cas was familiar with the soft tone enough to easily catch it. Dean grabbed the unmoving man by the arm and paced to a door, Cas following close on their heels.
The trio passed the door to what Castiel knew was a control room. There were three other officers there and a lot of CCTV monitors lined up a wall. The screens were all blank.
Dean manually barred the door and asked, "What happened?"
When one of the officers replied, his tone was devastated. Beads of sweat scattered across his forehead. "We seem to have lost all electronics control. All doors were unlocked and we can't shut it back down. All surveillance is gone and we lost all kinds of communication."
Suddenly there was a sound of explosion; loud enough to make all of them cower. If any inmates were conked out previously, they were sure as hell wide awake now.
"Get out of here, all of you," Dean rushed the officers to the other exit. "Grab everyone along the way. Run fast and get some help. This place is going to erupt soon." When they were stunned, Dean barked, "Now!"
Dean grabbed the last officer before he could slip through the door. "Where's Garth?" he asked.
"He's on the hotbox tonight." As soon as he replied, the officer sprinted away.
"Shit," Dean cussed. He looked anxious for a second, before noises started forming behind the door to their block. Dean darted for it.
"I need to find Gabriel and Chuck," Dean said to Castiel, one hand clutching the bolt. His face was fierce and feral, the kind that sent chills running down Cas' spine. "Do not open this door to anyone but me, understood?"
Cas shivered as Dean thundered his command. "What have you done, Dean?" he asked. His voice came out smaller than he'd have liked it to be, but the gravity of what was happening before them frightened him. "I told you not to do anything. Why are you doing this?"
Dean's glare directed at him was nothing if not deadly. Without doubt Crowley's sexual violation on him must have been the last straw. Dean had had enough and had resolved to doing everything his way.
Cas couldn't help thinking of the casualty tolls that would accumulate. There was a blast which meant there was a fire. Firemen would not be sent in unless order was restored. Emergency Response Team could not quell the unrest unless the fire was quenched, and so on. It would take hours before all could be subdued, by which time they would be long gone, no turning back. Dean was viciously wicked to come up with this plan.
"You need to have more faith in me, Cas," Dean said crossly. "This is not my doing."
~:~:~
A/N: Thank you for reading!