[Fic] DCBB - Round Came the Magpie - Chapter Five, Part i
Chapter Five, Part i
October 31st, 2005
Sam finally spoke to them the following morning. He looked as if he’d hardly gotten any sleep, but he kept on babbling about seeing a ‘Bones’ so Dean figured his little brother at least managed to snag an hour or two. Now, once Dean heard what had transpired, he didn’t blame Sam at all for how he acted. As Sam explained Dean couldn’t help but edge further along his bed and curl his fingers in the hem of Castiel’s sweater. Sam didn’t seem to notice his brother’s clinging but Castiel flashed Dean gentle, empathetic eyes and pressed their knees together.
After Sam finished his recount and disappeared into a shower that promised to be very long and very hot, Dean turned to Castiel and snagged his lips in a breathless kiss before pulling back so their foreheads rested together.
“I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting the last couple days,” Dean murmured.
“It’s all right, Dean. I understand. You’re worried about your family.”
“Our family.”
“Our family,” Castiel amended.
“Sorry about that chick at the bar too, did she try anything?” Dean asked.
Castiel shook his head. “She just touched me. Something about her made my skin crawl.” Though now far more familiar with modern human speech and colloquialism, even the most common of clichés still sounded a little stiff coming from the angel. Dean had to smile every time. He kissed Castiel’s frown away.
“Well, she was safe right?” Dean asked.
“Yes, I believe so. The only odd thing about her was a charm she had on a necklace. Though she explained she bought it at a craft fair. The charm did have a certain quality to it, but it was nothing I recognized. I’m sure it’s just coincidence.”
Dean nodded and thought about that for a moment. “Well, sketch it in the journal just in case. And! Before you say anything, I know you’ll remember but do it for my benefit.”
“I will. Now though, are we going to discuss what Sam just informed us of?” Castiel asked sternly.
Dean sighed and turned away from Castiel, dropping his forehead in his palms as he hunched over his knees. He sat like that for a moment before slowly dragging himself back up into a sitting position and offered up a bland smile that came across as more of a grimace. “Guess we have to. I can’t ignore Sam’s girlfriend being kidnapped on the word of demons and Dad clearly having to blow at least one angel back to the outfield. What are angels even doing here anyway? You said angels don’t make a habit of walking the Earth.”
“Well, they haven’t in centuries,” Castiel dithered. “Prior to Christ, angels tended to visit humans more regularly. Regardless, I only imagine they are here for one thing.”
Dean waited a beat, another, and a third then he rolled his eyes. “You gonna elaborate on that blindingly obscure statement, oh King Cryptic? I can totally dig the dramatic pauses, Dude, but you gotta give me something.”
“Yes, right, I just… I rather not-”
“Cas.”
“Armageddon,” Castiel replied in a rush. “The End of Days.”
“What?!” Dean shouted, only to turn after he heard a voice chime in with his own. Sam stood wide-eyed in a towel, hair still dripping.
“Shit,” Dean muttered.
Sam’s eye narrowed viciously. “What the hell do you mean Armageddon? Like the Apocalypse?”
Dean flashed a disarming grin at his brother. “Nah, don’t be silly, Sammy. You know how Cas has a flair for the dramatic. He doesn’t mean Armageddon, Armageddon, just you know… Armageddon-like circumstances. You really don’t have to worry. Cas and I can clean it up.”
“Clean it up,” Castiel repeated flatly, eyes hard.
“Oh come on Dean, don’t give me that crap. The only thing Castiel has a flair for is really bad fashion sense. So tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Seriously, Sam, we can handle it. We’ll just focus on finding Jessica right now, all right? Isn’t that more important?” Dean offered.
Sam twitched, his lips set in a thin line before he stormed over, grabbed his forgotten clothes and then headed back to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Dean winced.
“Clean it up?” Castiel spat out low and angry. “What exactly do you think this mess entails Dean? It’s not simply something we sweep under the rug, or ignore or forget about. You do realise that the end of days entails Lucifer’s rising, do you not? That means the devil will walk the Earth, Dean. The devil. You can’t simply cover Sam’s eyes from this and wish it away. It doesn’t work like that! You need to tell him. Now.”
“Are you serious, Cas? He’s just a kid! How do you expect me to put that sort of weight on his shoulders when it’s my job to protect him. My job. I need to fix this and I need to save these people.”
Castiel looked very sad and very old all of a sudden. He shook his head slowly and slumped his shoulders. “You can’t save everyone, my love, though you do try. This is not a weight you have to carry alone and Sam will want to help. In fact, Sam needs to help because the only way to prevent this is if you two are on the same team. Consider yourselves fire and oil - together you’ll combust and stop this.”
“Yeah, well, when fire and oil get together they destroy themselves in the process. Is that what you’re asking of me?” Dean asked, his expression hurt.
Castiel sighed and shook his head. “Dean, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” the angel said, voice a little strained. “Believe me when I say you’re stronger together.”
“We’re also each other’s weak spots. Sammy’s my Achilles’ heel, Cas, you know that.”
“Yes, but the two of you also have me. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise. But I need you to trust your brother because the three of us need to work together. Team Free Will. The Three Musketeers. You and I can’t do this on our own and you certainly can’t by yourself. So please, Dean.”
Dean met Castiel’s gaze, blue soldered to green in an instant; Dean felt that little patter his heart always gave when they stared or when they were close. It made him feel warm and complete, especially with Sam nearby as well. The three of them were all twines of a rope - take one away and the rope would break down and fray. Somehow they were inexplicably linked, twisted together into one entity and if what Castiel was saying was true, if the endgame was really on the way, then Dean would be an idiot to break them apart and divide their strength.
“Fine, but let’s get him to the house first, all right? It’ll be more comfortable there. Besides, we need to come up with a plan,” Dean eventually conceded.
“Thank you, Dean.”
April, 1992
Dean peered up at the sky, a hand across his brow to keep the sun from his eyes. They were staying with Uncle Bobby and he had taken them to a park. Right now Bobby was pushing Sam on the swing and Dean told him he’d be exploring. Bobby had looked at the boy critically for a moment before shrugging and nodding. Dean ran off.
“You haven’t called me.”
Dean spun around and saw the angel standing behind him. He looked a little different, almost as if he had bulked up some. Dean mentally shrugged and gave a little wave of greeting.
“Still couldn’t figure out how to tell ‘em, is all,” Dean shrugged.
“You aren’t going to tell them, are you?” Castiel observed.
Dean shook his head. “Not everything. I’ll just let Dad know that we have to be on the lookout for angels. He probably won’t believe me though.”
“I could vi-”
“No!” Dean interrupted before Castiel could finish. “He’ll shoot you.”
At Dean’s ferocity, Castiel couldn’t help but quirk a tiny smile. “I wouldn’t get hurt.”
Dean looked away, the tips of his ears were slightly red and Castiel cocked his head, wondering if the boy was cold, he was about to ask but Dean spoke up again:
“No, I’m not gonna let my dad shoot you. I’ll just have to make sure he believes me.”
Castiel sighed and nodded. He seemed resigned to accepting Dean’s decision and Dean thought it strange that such a powerful creature would bow to the will of a little boy. Not that Dean thought he was that little, but even he had to admit, he was still sort of just a kid. He couldn’t drive or anything.
“What is this place?” Castiel asked, looking around.
Dean gaped at Castiel. “Seriously? It’s a park, where families and kids come to enjoy outside. The last time we met we were at a park.”
“It was different then. There is so much life here now.”
Dean followed Castiel’s flitting gaze and had to agree. It was only natural though. Before was the middle of winter, now it was a bright warm spring day and the weekend at that.
“Well, people don’t usually go to parks in winter or through the week. Just sometimes. It’s spring now, but I probably don’t have to tell you that.”
“Yes, I’m aware of the season change. I’ve just never… This is my first time being in a place like this. It’s fascinating.”
Dean rocked back on his heels and side-eyed Castiel. He was indecisive for a moment and gnawed his lip lightly before gearing up the courage. “So, you’re not flitting off anywhere?”
“I have nowhere pressing to be at the moment.”
Dean grinned. “Well! Let’s give you a proper experience! Come on, there’s a lake over the ridge!” Without thinking, Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand.
So startled at the contact, Castiel allowed himself to be pulled across the well-trodden grass.
November, 2005
Dean was more than relieved to be at their tiny little blue bungalow and the relief of it practically wafted off of him when he dropped his worn duffle in the small entranceway. He slid aside for Sam and Castiel to follow him through and Sam looked around with tired eyes.
“It’s nice, Dean,” Sam managed to smile.
Dean grinned. “Yeah, it’s not much but we like it. I still can’t really believe that I actually have a place of my own. Well, our own,” Dean amended including Castiel in his gaze. “Um, there’s a pull-out couch in the library.” Dean took Sam’s bag and led him through the small living room with a fireplace to a portion of the room that was cordoned off by wooden pocket doors. There was another door behind the couch, which led to the kitchen. The room was initially intended by the original builders to be a dining room but Castiel and Dean had converted it to a library-office combination which would now be used as a temporary bedroom for Sam.
“Are you hungry, Sam?” Castiel asked.
Sam shook his head in the negative. Dean and Castiel shared a look behind the younger man and Castiel nodded slightly. He’d make something anyway. Dean was a better cook but Castiel’s abilities were serviceable. Castiel squeezed in the space behind the couch and pushed the swinging kitchen door inward. There was just enough room to walk back there, considering the space they needed open to pull the folding bed out.
“Coffee, Cas!” Dean called. Castiel didn’t reply but Dean knew he’d make it.
Sam sat down, looking around. He seemed almost oversized in their small house but he fit there just the same. Dean really had missed his brother. He sat next to the taller young man and the two were quiet for a few minutes.
“We’ll get her back, Sammy,” Dean promised.
“But alive?”
Dean’s stomach clenched. “Don’t think like that. We’ll get her and we’ll get Dad and then we’ll all be fine. You can head back to school, become a big-shot lawyer, have the house, the sedan, the dog, the 2.5 kids, the whole shebang. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure she’s still alive and pissed as hell. She doesn’t seem like the type of chick to take anything lying down.”
Sam smiled fondly, even though there was an edge of pain in it. “No, she’s certainly not that.”
“Though after this you’re certainly going have to give her the backstory,” Dean grimaced.
“Yeah, guess so… Speaking of…”
Dean mentally cursed himself. He was saved by Castiel coming into the room with two grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches on a tray along with three cups of coffee. He handed a plate to each Winchester, then set the coffees on the side table. He scooted back out of the kitchen to tuck the tray away then came back and rolled the office chair around to complete their little triangle.
“Eat first,” Castiel said. “Then we’ll explain.”
“I’m kinda boggling at this domestic alternate universe you two dragged me into,” Sam teased as he took a big bite of his sandwich. He smiled his thanks at Castiel. Castiel would make this for Sam when he was a teenager, and Dean knew it was one of the kid’s favourite meals.
Dean elbowed Sam in the ribs before shoving his own massive bite of grilled-cheese in his mouth.
“So why coffee but not food?” Sam asked, crunching on the chips that Castiel had served with the sandwiches.
“Food is an inconvenience, coffee is an indulgence,” Castiel replied. “It might as well be decaffeinated considering my constitution but there’s also a social aspect in sharing coffee. Comfort at a certain level. Reminds me of when we were all together and John and I would stay up late after you and Dean were in bed and discuss lore, strategy.”
Sam snorted. “And here I thought Dad only ever drank hard liquor.”
“Come on, Sam, you know that’s not true. Dad did the be-”
“Best he could at the time,” Sam finished as if by wrote, his tone flat and unconvinced. The two humans were finished with their meal and Dean stacked the plates on the small table at his side. He passed Sam his coffee and the three drank companionably. Dean was waiting for Sam to broach the subject, and he knew Sam was probably waiting for either of them to begin. It was a silent battle of wills, but Dean was damn well not going to get on the Share Train if Sam didn’t buy the ticket. If Dean still had full autonomy like he had before he had a husband then he wouldn’t be saying anything at all.
That didn’t mean that Dean didn’t understand that Castiel posed a very valid point, it was merely that telling Sam all the gritty little details went against his fundamental conditioning: Protect Sammy. John had been drilling that in Dean’s head since he was four years old. Dean would freely admit that with the yellow-eyed demon dead and gone and Castiel on his side, the task of guarding his little brother became a lot easier over the years. If Castiel hadn’t come along when he had and if his assistance with killing the yellow-eyed demon hadn’t been available and hadn’t won John over, Dean honestly had no idea where any of them would be right now. Maybe they’d still even be on the bastard’s tail. Dean was just damn glad he didn’t have to worry about that anymore.
“Fine, I’ll be white, my pawn is out, now make your move, Dean,” Sam huffed.
“Geek,” Dean snorted.
“Nerd,” Sam shot back.
“Look, I never really explained how I met Cas, did I?” Dean began.
“Not really, he just seemed to kind of show up one day,” Sam replied.
“I met him because he saved my life. I was attacked when I was thirteen, I couldn’t see what it was then, but now I know it was an angel without a vessel. First words he said to me: Dean Winchester, you are saved.”
“Why are the angels even after you?” Sam asked.
Dean looked away. “Us.”
“Us?”
“Sam,” Castiel took over, “you have to understand, Heaven has become rather corrupt. My Father along with one of the archangels have been missing for several years. Raphael and Michael are both, I suppose, fed-up with the status quo and they wanted things to… Start over?”
“What the hell? Are you seriously telling me God and an archangel are missing and Michael and Raphael are sick of keeping house?”
“Yes,” Castiel said seriously.
“Then what have I been praying to all these years?” Sam demanded, face dark and angry.
“You were born on a Monday in the West which means that Corabael would be receiving your prayers. Gabriel, also, if he still has a link to Heaven, if he’s even still alive.”
“Dude,” Dean said somewhat offended, “why does he get an archangel?”
“Everyone has both, Dean. The archangels are assigned to certain days along with many lesser angels.”
“Who’re mine then?” Dean asked.
“Me,” Castiel smiled.
“I was born on a Thursday?” Dean lifted a brow.
Castiel shook his head. “No, Wednesday, so technically Miel or Serada.”
“And my archangel?”
Here Castiel looked uncomfortable and turned away, he grimaced slightly. “Raphael.”
“That dick?” Dean sneered. “I think I’d rather Michael over him.”
“Okay, this all really fascinating, but weren’t you guys going to tell me about the freakin’ apocalypse?” Sam interrupted.
“Right, we got off track,” Castiel said quickly, his voice evening out to the more clinical style he took on when he was explaining things. It reminded Dean of the first days he used to hang out with Cas and Jimmy as well, because Dean, since they met, could always tell the difference.
April, 1992
Dean had dragged Castiel across the park and over to the small manmade lake. It was a warm and sunny day and the grassy shores were packed with people. Dean immediately led Castiel over to where a group of young men were racing remote-controlled boats. One guy lost control of his boat and it shot off course, right into a group of quietly swimming ducks. The ducks squawked indignantly and took to wing but they didn’t fly too far. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw that Castiel seemed rapt with the aquatic birds.
“Of all my Father’s creatures, those he has bestowed upon the natural ability of flight are the most fascinating to me,” Castiel said. Dean watched as he crouched beside the small lake and held out a hand to the birds. Dean was about to warn him off and tell Castiel how nasty the things could be, but was surprised when one duck scooted forward, touching it’s orange beak to Castiel’s fingers before allowing Castiel to run a delicate finger along the green crown feathers of the creature.
Dean crouched next to the angel but didn’t dare reach out himself. He had a feeling the duck wouldn’t take quite so kindly to him.
“Can’t you fly?” Dean asked. “Actually, I know you can fly.”
“Yes, I can, but the way the birds and fowl on this planet travel is so much more… physical. They act against the force of the planet itself, are led by invisible signs and patterns that only they truly know and how strong they must be, how hard they must work to fight the only thing keeping them tethered here is fascinating.”
“What do your wings look like, Cas?”
“Shadow, light, space, mass, dust, stars, multi-hued aurora, an extension of my grace and how my Father designed them.”
“Ah, I think that’s a little beyond my understanding.”
“Raven wings,” Castiel amended. “If I were to show them to you, you would likely see massive raven wings.”
Dean blinked. “They’re black?”
“Yes, not many angels have white wings. Only… Well, only one brother who was lost to us a long, long time ago.”
“What was his name?”
Suddenly Castiel teetered beside him and fell back with a muffled: oof. Dean turn his head quickly to see the boy next to him sprawled ungainly on his rear-end.
“Jimmy?” Dean asked.
Jimmy pushed himself back into a crouch and grimaced slightly as he put a hand to his damp slacks. “You picked up on that, huh?”
“Yeah, don’t think Cas has an ungraceful bone in his body… Er… your body. Whoa, weird,” Dean grinned. He stood and held out a hand, offering to heave Jimmy to his feet. Jimmy took the offer and Dean held onto his hand to give it a proper shake once they were both settled.
“Well not exactly how I wanted our next meeting to go, but at least I didn’t throw up on your shoes,” Jimmy smiled brightly and so wide that he showed a bit of gum. Dean grinned back.
“S’okay,” Dean shrugged. “Not that it isn’t nice to see you again, but why’d Cas tap out?”
Jimmy frowned and seemed to think hard, his brow furrowing. “I don’t… It’s a little hard to pick up on his thoughts sometimes. But he seemed to… to panic, a little? Heck, maybe he just thought I could use some fun. I really don’t know.”
Dean nodded, accepting that for now, then grinned again and shot out a hand, smacking Jimmy on the shoulder. “Tag! You’re it!” Then Dean ran.
It took Jimmy a few seconds to realise what had just happened, but when he did he tore after Dean with a smile on his face, chasing the younger and smaller boy along the shoreline. As they ran, they received a variety of looks, some critical to see two boys their ages acting like far younger children, but more fond and amused, perhaps at the fact that an older boy was so willing to play like a child for a younger when most wouldn’t give children the time of day.
Dean was fast, but one of the few things Jimmy was allowed to do and enjoyed doing was running. For the most part it was free and no equipment required except a pair of half-decent shoes. His were old and second hand but they were still good and sturdy. Despite Dean’s years of training as a hunter and the fitness that came along with it, Jimmy caught up with Dean quickly enough and tagged the boy in return.
Dean’s expression at the action was surprised and maybe just a tad bit indignant but he was a good sport about it and began chasing after Jimmy with a grin on his face. Jimmy led Dean away from the paved walkway and to the more difficult path along the backside of the grassy ridge that plateaued into an open, treeless area that was relatively unoccupied. Just about halfway along the crest of the hill, Jimmy’s foot caught on a hidden indentation and he stumbled forward. He managed to catch himself before falling but Dean was closer behind than Jimmy thought and the younger boy went crashing into him - what would have been a gentle open-palmed tag became a full-body tackle. Jimmy went to the ground laughing; he rolled onto his back once he landed, cushioning the fall slightly. Dean tumbled right along after him and landed on the older boy, pressing the air from Jimmy’s lungs. They stared in slight shock for a minute before Jimmy managed to get his wind back and laughed harder. Dean grinned down from where he was sprawled on Jimmy’s chest.
“Usually my opponents don’t put up that much of a fight!” Dean crowed, clearly glad for the challenge Jimmy provided.
“I like to run,” Jimmy replied with a shrug and a smile. Soon though he noticed their positions and gently pushed Dean off of him with a slightly uncomfortable cough.
Dean’s eyes flashed with confusion mixed with a little bit of hurt. Jimmy reached up and ruffled Dean’s hair, trying to soften the action.
“You’re heavier than you look!” Jimmy offered by-way of explanation.
Dean seemed to accept that at face-value and rolled properly on his back, looking up at the blue sky and white fluffy clouds. It really was a nice day.
“Hey Jimmy?” Dean asked nervously.
“Yeah?”
“I know we don’t really know each other, but ah… can I ask you some questions?”
“Okay…” Jimmy replied a little hesitantly.
“Um… what’s it like? You know, with the whole angel thing?”
Jimmy was quiet for a moment. “I’m not… I don’t really… It’s just, having an angel inside of you, it’s kinda like being chained to a comet. Does that make sense?”
Dean didn’t really know much about comets but he thought he understood. “Yeah.”
“So it’s hard to tell sometimes, what’s going on. Castiel’s really nice and everything, don’t get me wrong, but he’s… Well the closest thing I can think to describe him as is pure energy - Warm, bright, blinding, all-consuming. Even when he’s sleeping, which he usually does when he’s not with you, I can still feel him there burning just below my skin. But it’s a nice burn, I guess.”
“So he sticks around, then?”
“Uh huh,” Jimmy nodded. “I think it’s safer that way. It lets him hide. I mean, angel-rules say that he can’t take me over full-time until I’m eighteen but every time he leaves, if he were to leave, I think he would have to work his way back in and I think the others would be able to find him.”
“So he uses you as a bullet shield?!” Dean was suddenly indignant on Jimmy’s behalf. “That is not okay.”
Jimmy shook his head quickly. “No, no, I’m safe. He’s always watching. If something ever tried to hurt me again he’d come out and protect me. I give him a place to hide and he gives me… ah, peace I guess? I actually feel better, knowing he’s there. I’m not so much a bullet shield as a fallout bunker. We keep each other safe.”
That didn’t sit right with Dean, he furrowed his young brow and asked, “Hurt you again? What do you mean safe?”
Jimmy was quiet for several moments and he had gone very still next to Dean.
“Jim?” Dean prompted impatiently. After all, he may have been a very mature thirteen-year-old boy, but he was a still just a boy and sometimes the subtleties of human interaction and physical tells eluded him.
“I…” Jimmy hesitated, but then he remembered Dean’s kindness and knew that he wouldn’t be critical. Jimmy continued carefully, “I live in a place that isn’t very nice.”
“Your dad doesn’t hurt you does he?” Dean asked, aghast.
“No, not my dad. I don’t have one. I don’t have a mom either. I live in a group home that’s run by a church. The priests have… old fashioned ideas and one gets a little carried away sometimes. I prayed for help every night and then Castiel came to me and told me he could help me if I helped him. I said yes and he’s been protecting me ever since. He’s helped me a lot.”
“Oh,” Dean remarked. Then asked, “How long have you been there?”
“A really long time,” Jimmy said sadly. “Since I was three or four. I don’t know for sure really. I just know I was young. I have a very vague memory of a woman who had dark hair and big blue eyes. She was also really young and maybe not entirely well. I think she was probably my mother. One of the last things I remember is her crying. An older man came and said some very cruel things to her and me too. I think the old man wanted me dead,” Jimmy frowned, searching for the fragments in his mind.
“The woman, my mother, grabbed me very hard and left a bruise on my arm to stop the old man from dragging me away, then once she realised she hurt me she cried harder and let me go. I remember how blue her eyes looked with tears in them. The old man tossed me into a car and we drove for what had to be hours, but maybe it was only a few minutes. He then pulled me out of the car and dropped me at the end of a driveway before he climbed back in and drove away. It was late at night and I remember I was still in my pyjamas and how funny my slippers looked against the grass.
“I don’t know how long I stayed there but I know by the time Father Novak came for me, I could barely move I was so cold. He asked me my name and that was it, at least I knew I was called Jimmy. He took me in and set me by the fire and had one of the sisters change me and bring me soup. I lived there ever since.”
“Who was the old man?” Dean asked.
“The woman kept called him ‘daddy,’” Jimmy replied.
“Your grandpa,” Dean whispered, shocked.
“I guess so.”
“Is Father Novak nice?”
“He was. Very nice,” Jimmy nodded. “He died when I was fourteen. After that the home wasn’t so nice anymore.”
“I’m sorry, Jimmy.”
“Me too,” Jimmy smiled sadly, then he reached up and ruffled Dean’s hair again, breaking the tension.
Dean scowled and ducked the hand, swatting at it playfully.
“I’ll see you around, Dean. I had fun.”
“Wait! Ji-”
“Jimmy was tired,” Castiel said. Suddenly Jimmy’s causal slouch was ramrod straight. His body was still on the ground but he no longer looked at ease in the position.
“Hi, Cas,” Dean said.
“Hello, Dean.”
“You’ll keep looking out for him, right?”
“Always.”
November, 2005
“Wait, wait,” Sam held up a palm. “All this crap is happening because some angels want to wear us to the prom? You mentioned Michael, but who is the other one?”
Castiel and Dean had given Sam the rundown of what had been their lives for the past thirteen years. Dean could see clearly that Sam was trying to wrap his head around all the new information but he also knew Sam needed all the facts before he could do so. Dean couldn’t help but agree with Sam, because even he didn’t know the name of the mysterious angel that wanted to take one of them on. For some reason Castiel had never shared that tidbit.
“He doesn’t matter,” Castiel said quickly. “Michael’s goal is to prevent that from ever happening, that is why he wanted you two kidnapped as children. He could kill the vessel of the other angel and keep his under lock and key.”
“Okay, but I still think it would help if we knew just who we were dealing with,” Sam said carefully.
“Yeah, Cas, Sammy’s right. Why are you so dead-set against sharing the name with us?”
Castiel sighed and looked at both brothers. This was not an easy topic to discuss. Castiel had no desire to share the name of his other brother because then his brother’s true identity would be revealed and neither Sam nor Dean would rest any easier with the knowledge. If anything, it would make it far, far worse.
“Spit it out, Dude,” Dean prompted. “Need to play with a full deck here.”
“Lucifer,” Castiel replied. “My other brother is Lucifer. Michael is to battle him in End Times to determine humanity’s fate.”
“Lucifer,” Sam repeated, in a shocked whisper. “The Devil.”
Dean stared anxiously at his brother, his gaze only flitting briefly to Castiel then back again. He thought he had heard wrong, but Sam heard it too.
“So who’s who?” Dean asked after a few moments of tense silence.
Castiel shook his head, his eyes sad as he looked between the brothers. “I’m not a hundred percent sure. It could be either of you or just one. Generally, when angels take a vessel there is only one vessel per family; a single child household or one child who is not devout enough to house an angel. In this case, I believe, there is one of you per one of my brothers. I don’t think they could share you as vessels. Zachariah, my superior, never actually shared with me who was going to die and who was to live.”
Dean nodded and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Lucifer probably wants to jump me. It would make more sense. I never really believed in angels or God until one came along and saved my life,” Dean smiled at Cas here. “Not to mention the entire corruption of an angel thing I got going on. Isn’t that what Satan was all about? Corrupting the pure? And Sammy’s always been a better person than me so he’s probably for Michael.”
Castiel didn’t agree or disagree and Sam too was very quiet. Both of them were inclined to disagree with Dean. Dean was thinking too broadly; angels were often far more literal than that.
Dean may not always be ‘good’ but he was righteous, much like Michael, God’s greatest warrior. Michael also remained loyal, true and obedient to God, their Father, much like Dean. Whereas Sam had only ever remained loyal and true to Dean.
One thing that Castiel had only ever contemplated with John on one or two drunken nights when the boys were still teenagers was that Sam had a taint. An edge of darkness throbbing under his skin and that darkness was growing ever since he turned twenty-two.
If Castiel had been of higher rank in Heaven he might have known what had happened to Sam when Azazel attacked him that night, but as it was, Castiel had only ever been able to tell that it was a demon until John revealed that the demon had yellow eyes. Castiel only knew of one demon in existence with such a feature and to date he was the only demon this century to contact Lucifer directly, as far as the angel’s knowledge went. Which clearly meant that Sam was directly linked to Castiel’s fallen brother. Dean would refuse to believe it however.
“Regardless,” Castiel said, “I must protect the both of you. I refuse to allow either of you to say ‘yes’ or to be killed.”
“Say yes?” Sam wanted to know, brow furrowing.
“An angel needs consent to enter a vessel,” Castiel explained.
Sam gaped at the angel and his brother, reeling from the information. “So you’re riding around in some poor bastard?”
“Jimmy’s cool with it, Sam,” Dean explained patiently.
“What? Have you asked? I mean does he want…” Sam flapped his hand between Dean and Castiel and Dean flushed hotly.
“He’s cool with it, Sam,” Dean stressed. “He knows everything and he’s given his consent for everything. He’s a good guy, I’d even consider him a friend.”
“Ah… isn’t that awkward though?”
“Typically, I keep Jimmy’s soul in a static state; once he turned eighteen that is. An angel is not allowed to permanently control a vessel until that vessel has reached the age of majority, not that the complexities of our sex-life are really any of your business,” Castiel explained coolly.
Sam flushed. “Just wanted to make sure that you weren’t… you know…”
“Stop it right there, Sam, the fact that you’d even wonder about something like that is actually really insulting,” Dean glowered.
“Sorry, this is just all really new, all right? I really didn’t think that… Never mind. Like you said, not my business, but Dad is. So there’s more to that symbol I saw on his bathroom door than what you were saying, isn’t there,” it was a statement not a question.
“Yeah, it means that for some reason, angels were after Dad. That’s a banishing sigil for angels. It sends them to God knows where. Takes at least three hours for them to find their way back once you use it,” Dean explained.
Castiel got up and went over to the desk, sketching the sigil out quickly and handing it to Sam. “Memorize it, but remember: it has to be drawn in blood and be fairly large. You need to press your palm flat against the centre to activate the magic.”
“Do you seriously think they’re going to come after us?” Sam asked, voice small. “I mean, we have demons on us and now angels? How is that fair? And what about Jess? Why would demons want to kidnap her or kill her? What would that accomplish?”
“We don’t know, Sam,” Castiel said softly. “And that’s the problem. I wish I had the answers for you, but I don’t. Right now the only thing we can do is continue to look for your father and see if we can discover where the demons might have taken Jessica.”
“Yeah, Sammy, we’re aren’t gonna stop until we find them both, all right?” Dean offered a small grin. “Now we just gotta figure out where those coordinates go, follow Dad’s trail, but I think we should all get some sleep.”
“It’s already been a few days though, Dean, what if the trail gets colder?” Sam said.
“A few extra hours won’t hurt, Sam, and neither you or me will be any use behind the wheel right now and it isn’t fair to make Cas do all the driving all the time. We’ll get up early and get right on it tomorrow.” Dean stood and clapped his brother on the shoulder. He returned a few seconds later with sheets, blankets and a few extra pillows. Dean nudged Sam until the younger man got off the couch and Castiel helped Dean clear away the cushions and pull out the bed hidden away.
“I can do it my-”
“Sam, just let me, all right?” Dean replied, exasperated.
“Dean-” Sam tried again.
Castiel came over to Sam and offered him a small smile. “Let Dean do this for you, it’s small and perhaps a little trivial but he enjoys taking care of you.”
“He doesn’t have to anymore,” Sam huffed, but leaned back against the desk alongside Castiel.
“We both know that, Sam, but it doesn’t change anything. One thing we will never break Dean out of is his tendency to take care of everyone.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes I just wish he would do something for himself,” Sam huffed.
Dean clapped his hands together. “All right, Sammy, all done. If you need anything in the night help yourself. Bathroom’s the first door on the right. I’ll let you get in there first. Night.”
“Night, Dean, and thanks,” Sam smiled.
Dean and Castiel left Sam to it then. The green-eyed man led the angel to their bedroom and began shucking out of his clothing. Castiel watched shamelessly as Dean undressed, gradually revealing tantalising strips of skin. Dean pulled on pyjama pants and a butter soft t-shirt before flopping on the bed and dragging Castiel down on top of him.
“God, should I feel guilty that I’m glad Sam’s here, considering why he’s here?” Dean asked.
“You missed your brother, Dean, it’s understandable. Besides, we’ll get Jessica back, we can hold on to the fact that they didn’t kill her and be thankful.”
Castiel watched Dean carefully as the man’s eyes slowly began to droop, even lying in what had to be an uncomfortable position with his legs hanging off the bed and Castiel half on top of him. Castiel moved to shift away, but Dean murmured sleepily and tightened his hold where his hands rested lightly on Castiel’s hips and bottom.
Castiel kissed Dean’s neck softly, then he moved up the man’s jaw then pressed a chaste kiss to his pink lips. Dean blinked open blurry green eyes.
“Hello there, was just waking to inquire whether you wanted to actually be in bed to sleep,” Castiel teased gently.
“Hmm?”
Castiel chuckled and pushed up and off of Dean, smiling at Dean’s quiet sounds of protest at losing Castiel’s weight. The angel shifted the human so that he was lying on the bed properly and tucked him under the blankets. Dean reached out for Castiel as the blue-eyed man moved away.
“I’ll be there in a second,” Castiel whispered. “Just thought we’d both be more comfortable if I changed.”
Dean murmured his assent, nosed aggressively at his pillow and rolled slightly onto his side. Dean would be irritated in the morning that Castiel didn’t wake Dean enough to carry out his nightly routine of face-washing and teeth-brushing, but Castiel also knew that this was probably the most comfortable and content Dean had been in weeks and the hunter needed his sleep.
Castiel turned off the dim bedside lamp, then curled up at Dean’s side. Dean immediately rolled onto his stomach into Castiel’s heat and rested his head close to his husband, already mostly asleep.
Previous | Masterpost | Next
October 31st, 2005
Sam finally spoke to them the following morning. He looked as if he’d hardly gotten any sleep, but he kept on babbling about seeing a ‘Bones’ so Dean figured his little brother at least managed to snag an hour or two. Now, once Dean heard what had transpired, he didn’t blame Sam at all for how he acted. As Sam explained Dean couldn’t help but edge further along his bed and curl his fingers in the hem of Castiel’s sweater. Sam didn’t seem to notice his brother’s clinging but Castiel flashed Dean gentle, empathetic eyes and pressed their knees together.
After Sam finished his recount and disappeared into a shower that promised to be very long and very hot, Dean turned to Castiel and snagged his lips in a breathless kiss before pulling back so their foreheads rested together.
“I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting the last couple days,” Dean murmured.
“It’s all right, Dean. I understand. You’re worried about your family.”
“Our family.”
“Our family,” Castiel amended.
“Sorry about that chick at the bar too, did she try anything?” Dean asked.
Castiel shook his head. “She just touched me. Something about her made my skin crawl.” Though now far more familiar with modern human speech and colloquialism, even the most common of clichés still sounded a little stiff coming from the angel. Dean had to smile every time. He kissed Castiel’s frown away.
“Well, she was safe right?” Dean asked.
“Yes, I believe so. The only odd thing about her was a charm she had on a necklace. Though she explained she bought it at a craft fair. The charm did have a certain quality to it, but it was nothing I recognized. I’m sure it’s just coincidence.”
Dean nodded and thought about that for a moment. “Well, sketch it in the journal just in case. And! Before you say anything, I know you’ll remember but do it for my benefit.”
“I will. Now though, are we going to discuss what Sam just informed us of?” Castiel asked sternly.
Dean sighed and turned away from Castiel, dropping his forehead in his palms as he hunched over his knees. He sat like that for a moment before slowly dragging himself back up into a sitting position and offered up a bland smile that came across as more of a grimace. “Guess we have to. I can’t ignore Sam’s girlfriend being kidnapped on the word of demons and Dad clearly having to blow at least one angel back to the outfield. What are angels even doing here anyway? You said angels don’t make a habit of walking the Earth.”
“Well, they haven’t in centuries,” Castiel dithered. “Prior to Christ, angels tended to visit humans more regularly. Regardless, I only imagine they are here for one thing.”
Dean waited a beat, another, and a third then he rolled his eyes. “You gonna elaborate on that blindingly obscure statement, oh King Cryptic? I can totally dig the dramatic pauses, Dude, but you gotta give me something.”
“Yes, right, I just… I rather not-”
“Cas.”
“Armageddon,” Castiel replied in a rush. “The End of Days.”
“What?!” Dean shouted, only to turn after he heard a voice chime in with his own. Sam stood wide-eyed in a towel, hair still dripping.
“Shit,” Dean muttered.
Sam’s eye narrowed viciously. “What the hell do you mean Armageddon? Like the Apocalypse?”
Dean flashed a disarming grin at his brother. “Nah, don’t be silly, Sammy. You know how Cas has a flair for the dramatic. He doesn’t mean Armageddon, Armageddon, just you know… Armageddon-like circumstances. You really don’t have to worry. Cas and I can clean it up.”
“Clean it up,” Castiel repeated flatly, eyes hard.
“Oh come on Dean, don’t give me that crap. The only thing Castiel has a flair for is really bad fashion sense. So tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Seriously, Sam, we can handle it. We’ll just focus on finding Jessica right now, all right? Isn’t that more important?” Dean offered.
Sam twitched, his lips set in a thin line before he stormed over, grabbed his forgotten clothes and then headed back to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Dean winced.
“Clean it up?” Castiel spat out low and angry. “What exactly do you think this mess entails Dean? It’s not simply something we sweep under the rug, or ignore or forget about. You do realise that the end of days entails Lucifer’s rising, do you not? That means the devil will walk the Earth, Dean. The devil. You can’t simply cover Sam’s eyes from this and wish it away. It doesn’t work like that! You need to tell him. Now.”
“Are you serious, Cas? He’s just a kid! How do you expect me to put that sort of weight on his shoulders when it’s my job to protect him. My job. I need to fix this and I need to save these people.”
Castiel looked very sad and very old all of a sudden. He shook his head slowly and slumped his shoulders. “You can’t save everyone, my love, though you do try. This is not a weight you have to carry alone and Sam will want to help. In fact, Sam needs to help because the only way to prevent this is if you two are on the same team. Consider yourselves fire and oil - together you’ll combust and stop this.”
“Yeah, well, when fire and oil get together they destroy themselves in the process. Is that what you’re asking of me?” Dean asked, his expression hurt.
Castiel sighed and shook his head. “Dean, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” the angel said, voice a little strained. “Believe me when I say you’re stronger together.”
“We’re also each other’s weak spots. Sammy’s my Achilles’ heel, Cas, you know that.”
“Yes, but the two of you also have me. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise. But I need you to trust your brother because the three of us need to work together. Team Free Will. The Three Musketeers. You and I can’t do this on our own and you certainly can’t by yourself. So please, Dean.”
Dean met Castiel’s gaze, blue soldered to green in an instant; Dean felt that little patter his heart always gave when they stared or when they were close. It made him feel warm and complete, especially with Sam nearby as well. The three of them were all twines of a rope - take one away and the rope would break down and fray. Somehow they were inexplicably linked, twisted together into one entity and if what Castiel was saying was true, if the endgame was really on the way, then Dean would be an idiot to break them apart and divide their strength.
“Fine, but let’s get him to the house first, all right? It’ll be more comfortable there. Besides, we need to come up with a plan,” Dean eventually conceded.
“Thank you, Dean.”
April, 1992
Dean peered up at the sky, a hand across his brow to keep the sun from his eyes. They were staying with Uncle Bobby and he had taken them to a park. Right now Bobby was pushing Sam on the swing and Dean told him he’d be exploring. Bobby had looked at the boy critically for a moment before shrugging and nodding. Dean ran off.
“You haven’t called me.”
Dean spun around and saw the angel standing behind him. He looked a little different, almost as if he had bulked up some. Dean mentally shrugged and gave a little wave of greeting.
“Still couldn’t figure out how to tell ‘em, is all,” Dean shrugged.
“You aren’t going to tell them, are you?” Castiel observed.
Dean shook his head. “Not everything. I’ll just let Dad know that we have to be on the lookout for angels. He probably won’t believe me though.”
“I could vi-”
“No!” Dean interrupted before Castiel could finish. “He’ll shoot you.”
At Dean’s ferocity, Castiel couldn’t help but quirk a tiny smile. “I wouldn’t get hurt.”
Dean looked away, the tips of his ears were slightly red and Castiel cocked his head, wondering if the boy was cold, he was about to ask but Dean spoke up again:
“No, I’m not gonna let my dad shoot you. I’ll just have to make sure he believes me.”
Castiel sighed and nodded. He seemed resigned to accepting Dean’s decision and Dean thought it strange that such a powerful creature would bow to the will of a little boy. Not that Dean thought he was that little, but even he had to admit, he was still sort of just a kid. He couldn’t drive or anything.
“What is this place?” Castiel asked, looking around.
Dean gaped at Castiel. “Seriously? It’s a park, where families and kids come to enjoy outside. The last time we met we were at a park.”
“It was different then. There is so much life here now.”
Dean followed Castiel’s flitting gaze and had to agree. It was only natural though. Before was the middle of winter, now it was a bright warm spring day and the weekend at that.
“Well, people don’t usually go to parks in winter or through the week. Just sometimes. It’s spring now, but I probably don’t have to tell you that.”
“Yes, I’m aware of the season change. I’ve just never… This is my first time being in a place like this. It’s fascinating.”
Dean rocked back on his heels and side-eyed Castiel. He was indecisive for a moment and gnawed his lip lightly before gearing up the courage. “So, you’re not flitting off anywhere?”
“I have nowhere pressing to be at the moment.”
Dean grinned. “Well! Let’s give you a proper experience! Come on, there’s a lake over the ridge!” Without thinking, Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand.
So startled at the contact, Castiel allowed himself to be pulled across the well-trodden grass.
November, 2005
Dean was more than relieved to be at their tiny little blue bungalow and the relief of it practically wafted off of him when he dropped his worn duffle in the small entranceway. He slid aside for Sam and Castiel to follow him through and Sam looked around with tired eyes.
“It’s nice, Dean,” Sam managed to smile.
Dean grinned. “Yeah, it’s not much but we like it. I still can’t really believe that I actually have a place of my own. Well, our own,” Dean amended including Castiel in his gaze. “Um, there’s a pull-out couch in the library.” Dean took Sam’s bag and led him through the small living room with a fireplace to a portion of the room that was cordoned off by wooden pocket doors. There was another door behind the couch, which led to the kitchen. The room was initially intended by the original builders to be a dining room but Castiel and Dean had converted it to a library-office combination which would now be used as a temporary bedroom for Sam.
“Are you hungry, Sam?” Castiel asked.
Sam shook his head in the negative. Dean and Castiel shared a look behind the younger man and Castiel nodded slightly. He’d make something anyway. Dean was a better cook but Castiel’s abilities were serviceable. Castiel squeezed in the space behind the couch and pushed the swinging kitchen door inward. There was just enough room to walk back there, considering the space they needed open to pull the folding bed out.
“Coffee, Cas!” Dean called. Castiel didn’t reply but Dean knew he’d make it.
Sam sat down, looking around. He seemed almost oversized in their small house but he fit there just the same. Dean really had missed his brother. He sat next to the taller young man and the two were quiet for a few minutes.
“We’ll get her back, Sammy,” Dean promised.
“But alive?”
Dean’s stomach clenched. “Don’t think like that. We’ll get her and we’ll get Dad and then we’ll all be fine. You can head back to school, become a big-shot lawyer, have the house, the sedan, the dog, the 2.5 kids, the whole shebang. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure she’s still alive and pissed as hell. She doesn’t seem like the type of chick to take anything lying down.”
Sam smiled fondly, even though there was an edge of pain in it. “No, she’s certainly not that.”
“Though after this you’re certainly going have to give her the backstory,” Dean grimaced.
“Yeah, guess so… Speaking of…”
Dean mentally cursed himself. He was saved by Castiel coming into the room with two grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches on a tray along with three cups of coffee. He handed a plate to each Winchester, then set the coffees on the side table. He scooted back out of the kitchen to tuck the tray away then came back and rolled the office chair around to complete their little triangle.
“Eat first,” Castiel said. “Then we’ll explain.”
“I’m kinda boggling at this domestic alternate universe you two dragged me into,” Sam teased as he took a big bite of his sandwich. He smiled his thanks at Castiel. Castiel would make this for Sam when he was a teenager, and Dean knew it was one of the kid’s favourite meals.
Dean elbowed Sam in the ribs before shoving his own massive bite of grilled-cheese in his mouth.
“So why coffee but not food?” Sam asked, crunching on the chips that Castiel had served with the sandwiches.
“Food is an inconvenience, coffee is an indulgence,” Castiel replied. “It might as well be decaffeinated considering my constitution but there’s also a social aspect in sharing coffee. Comfort at a certain level. Reminds me of when we were all together and John and I would stay up late after you and Dean were in bed and discuss lore, strategy.”
Sam snorted. “And here I thought Dad only ever drank hard liquor.”
“Come on, Sam, you know that’s not true. Dad did the be-”
“Best he could at the time,” Sam finished as if by wrote, his tone flat and unconvinced. The two humans were finished with their meal and Dean stacked the plates on the small table at his side. He passed Sam his coffee and the three drank companionably. Dean was waiting for Sam to broach the subject, and he knew Sam was probably waiting for either of them to begin. It was a silent battle of wills, but Dean was damn well not going to get on the Share Train if Sam didn’t buy the ticket. If Dean still had full autonomy like he had before he had a husband then he wouldn’t be saying anything at all.
That didn’t mean that Dean didn’t understand that Castiel posed a very valid point, it was merely that telling Sam all the gritty little details went against his fundamental conditioning: Protect Sammy. John had been drilling that in Dean’s head since he was four years old. Dean would freely admit that with the yellow-eyed demon dead and gone and Castiel on his side, the task of guarding his little brother became a lot easier over the years. If Castiel hadn’t come along when he had and if his assistance with killing the yellow-eyed demon hadn’t been available and hadn’t won John over, Dean honestly had no idea where any of them would be right now. Maybe they’d still even be on the bastard’s tail. Dean was just damn glad he didn’t have to worry about that anymore.
“Fine, I’ll be white, my pawn is out, now make your move, Dean,” Sam huffed.
“Geek,” Dean snorted.
“Nerd,” Sam shot back.
“Look, I never really explained how I met Cas, did I?” Dean began.
“Not really, he just seemed to kind of show up one day,” Sam replied.
“I met him because he saved my life. I was attacked when I was thirteen, I couldn’t see what it was then, but now I know it was an angel without a vessel. First words he said to me: Dean Winchester, you are saved.”
“Why are the angels even after you?” Sam asked.
Dean looked away. “Us.”
“Us?”
“Sam,” Castiel took over, “you have to understand, Heaven has become rather corrupt. My Father along with one of the archangels have been missing for several years. Raphael and Michael are both, I suppose, fed-up with the status quo and they wanted things to… Start over?”
“What the hell? Are you seriously telling me God and an archangel are missing and Michael and Raphael are sick of keeping house?”
“Yes,” Castiel said seriously.
“Then what have I been praying to all these years?” Sam demanded, face dark and angry.
“You were born on a Monday in the West which means that Corabael would be receiving your prayers. Gabriel, also, if he still has a link to Heaven, if he’s even still alive.”
“Dude,” Dean said somewhat offended, “why does he get an archangel?”
“Everyone has both, Dean. The archangels are assigned to certain days along with many lesser angels.”
“Who’re mine then?” Dean asked.
“Me,” Castiel smiled.
“I was born on a Thursday?” Dean lifted a brow.
Castiel shook his head. “No, Wednesday, so technically Miel or Serada.”
“And my archangel?”
Here Castiel looked uncomfortable and turned away, he grimaced slightly. “Raphael.”
“That dick?” Dean sneered. “I think I’d rather Michael over him.”
“Okay, this all really fascinating, but weren’t you guys going to tell me about the freakin’ apocalypse?” Sam interrupted.
“Right, we got off track,” Castiel said quickly, his voice evening out to the more clinical style he took on when he was explaining things. It reminded Dean of the first days he used to hang out with Cas and Jimmy as well, because Dean, since they met, could always tell the difference.
April, 1992
Dean had dragged Castiel across the park and over to the small manmade lake. It was a warm and sunny day and the grassy shores were packed with people. Dean immediately led Castiel over to where a group of young men were racing remote-controlled boats. One guy lost control of his boat and it shot off course, right into a group of quietly swimming ducks. The ducks squawked indignantly and took to wing but they didn’t fly too far. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw that Castiel seemed rapt with the aquatic birds.
“Of all my Father’s creatures, those he has bestowed upon the natural ability of flight are the most fascinating to me,” Castiel said. Dean watched as he crouched beside the small lake and held out a hand to the birds. Dean was about to warn him off and tell Castiel how nasty the things could be, but was surprised when one duck scooted forward, touching it’s orange beak to Castiel’s fingers before allowing Castiel to run a delicate finger along the green crown feathers of the creature.
Dean crouched next to the angel but didn’t dare reach out himself. He had a feeling the duck wouldn’t take quite so kindly to him.
“Can’t you fly?” Dean asked. “Actually, I know you can fly.”
“Yes, I can, but the way the birds and fowl on this planet travel is so much more… physical. They act against the force of the planet itself, are led by invisible signs and patterns that only they truly know and how strong they must be, how hard they must work to fight the only thing keeping them tethered here is fascinating.”
“What do your wings look like, Cas?”
“Shadow, light, space, mass, dust, stars, multi-hued aurora, an extension of my grace and how my Father designed them.”
“Ah, I think that’s a little beyond my understanding.”
“Raven wings,” Castiel amended. “If I were to show them to you, you would likely see massive raven wings.”
Dean blinked. “They’re black?”
“Yes, not many angels have white wings. Only… Well, only one brother who was lost to us a long, long time ago.”
“What was his name?”
Suddenly Castiel teetered beside him and fell back with a muffled: oof. Dean turn his head quickly to see the boy next to him sprawled ungainly on his rear-end.
“Jimmy?” Dean asked.
Jimmy pushed himself back into a crouch and grimaced slightly as he put a hand to his damp slacks. “You picked up on that, huh?”
“Yeah, don’t think Cas has an ungraceful bone in his body… Er… your body. Whoa, weird,” Dean grinned. He stood and held out a hand, offering to heave Jimmy to his feet. Jimmy took the offer and Dean held onto his hand to give it a proper shake once they were both settled.
“Well not exactly how I wanted our next meeting to go, but at least I didn’t throw up on your shoes,” Jimmy smiled brightly and so wide that he showed a bit of gum. Dean grinned back.
“S’okay,” Dean shrugged. “Not that it isn’t nice to see you again, but why’d Cas tap out?”
Jimmy frowned and seemed to think hard, his brow furrowing. “I don’t… It’s a little hard to pick up on his thoughts sometimes. But he seemed to… to panic, a little? Heck, maybe he just thought I could use some fun. I really don’t know.”
Dean nodded, accepting that for now, then grinned again and shot out a hand, smacking Jimmy on the shoulder. “Tag! You’re it!” Then Dean ran.
It took Jimmy a few seconds to realise what had just happened, but when he did he tore after Dean with a smile on his face, chasing the younger and smaller boy along the shoreline. As they ran, they received a variety of looks, some critical to see two boys their ages acting like far younger children, but more fond and amused, perhaps at the fact that an older boy was so willing to play like a child for a younger when most wouldn’t give children the time of day.
Dean was fast, but one of the few things Jimmy was allowed to do and enjoyed doing was running. For the most part it was free and no equipment required except a pair of half-decent shoes. His were old and second hand but they were still good and sturdy. Despite Dean’s years of training as a hunter and the fitness that came along with it, Jimmy caught up with Dean quickly enough and tagged the boy in return.
Dean’s expression at the action was surprised and maybe just a tad bit indignant but he was a good sport about it and began chasing after Jimmy with a grin on his face. Jimmy led Dean away from the paved walkway and to the more difficult path along the backside of the grassy ridge that plateaued into an open, treeless area that was relatively unoccupied. Just about halfway along the crest of the hill, Jimmy’s foot caught on a hidden indentation and he stumbled forward. He managed to catch himself before falling but Dean was closer behind than Jimmy thought and the younger boy went crashing into him - what would have been a gentle open-palmed tag became a full-body tackle. Jimmy went to the ground laughing; he rolled onto his back once he landed, cushioning the fall slightly. Dean tumbled right along after him and landed on the older boy, pressing the air from Jimmy’s lungs. They stared in slight shock for a minute before Jimmy managed to get his wind back and laughed harder. Dean grinned down from where he was sprawled on Jimmy’s chest.
“Usually my opponents don’t put up that much of a fight!” Dean crowed, clearly glad for the challenge Jimmy provided.
“I like to run,” Jimmy replied with a shrug and a smile. Soon though he noticed their positions and gently pushed Dean off of him with a slightly uncomfortable cough.
Dean’s eyes flashed with confusion mixed with a little bit of hurt. Jimmy reached up and ruffled Dean’s hair, trying to soften the action.
“You’re heavier than you look!” Jimmy offered by-way of explanation.
Dean seemed to accept that at face-value and rolled properly on his back, looking up at the blue sky and white fluffy clouds. It really was a nice day.
“Hey Jimmy?” Dean asked nervously.
“Yeah?”
“I know we don’t really know each other, but ah… can I ask you some questions?”
“Okay…” Jimmy replied a little hesitantly.
“Um… what’s it like? You know, with the whole angel thing?”
Jimmy was quiet for a moment. “I’m not… I don’t really… It’s just, having an angel inside of you, it’s kinda like being chained to a comet. Does that make sense?”
Dean didn’t really know much about comets but he thought he understood. “Yeah.”
“So it’s hard to tell sometimes, what’s going on. Castiel’s really nice and everything, don’t get me wrong, but he’s… Well the closest thing I can think to describe him as is pure energy - Warm, bright, blinding, all-consuming. Even when he’s sleeping, which he usually does when he’s not with you, I can still feel him there burning just below my skin. But it’s a nice burn, I guess.”
“So he sticks around, then?”
“Uh huh,” Jimmy nodded. “I think it’s safer that way. It lets him hide. I mean, angel-rules say that he can’t take me over full-time until I’m eighteen but every time he leaves, if he were to leave, I think he would have to work his way back in and I think the others would be able to find him.”
“So he uses you as a bullet shield?!” Dean was suddenly indignant on Jimmy’s behalf. “That is not okay.”
Jimmy shook his head quickly. “No, no, I’m safe. He’s always watching. If something ever tried to hurt me again he’d come out and protect me. I give him a place to hide and he gives me… ah, peace I guess? I actually feel better, knowing he’s there. I’m not so much a bullet shield as a fallout bunker. We keep each other safe.”
That didn’t sit right with Dean, he furrowed his young brow and asked, “Hurt you again? What do you mean safe?”
Jimmy was quiet for several moments and he had gone very still next to Dean.
“Jim?” Dean prompted impatiently. After all, he may have been a very mature thirteen-year-old boy, but he was a still just a boy and sometimes the subtleties of human interaction and physical tells eluded him.
“I…” Jimmy hesitated, but then he remembered Dean’s kindness and knew that he wouldn’t be critical. Jimmy continued carefully, “I live in a place that isn’t very nice.”
“Your dad doesn’t hurt you does he?” Dean asked, aghast.
“No, not my dad. I don’t have one. I don’t have a mom either. I live in a group home that’s run by a church. The priests have… old fashioned ideas and one gets a little carried away sometimes. I prayed for help every night and then Castiel came to me and told me he could help me if I helped him. I said yes and he’s been protecting me ever since. He’s helped me a lot.”
“Oh,” Dean remarked. Then asked, “How long have you been there?”
“A really long time,” Jimmy said sadly. “Since I was three or four. I don’t know for sure really. I just know I was young. I have a very vague memory of a woman who had dark hair and big blue eyes. She was also really young and maybe not entirely well. I think she was probably my mother. One of the last things I remember is her crying. An older man came and said some very cruel things to her and me too. I think the old man wanted me dead,” Jimmy frowned, searching for the fragments in his mind.
“The woman, my mother, grabbed me very hard and left a bruise on my arm to stop the old man from dragging me away, then once she realised she hurt me she cried harder and let me go. I remember how blue her eyes looked with tears in them. The old man tossed me into a car and we drove for what had to be hours, but maybe it was only a few minutes. He then pulled me out of the car and dropped me at the end of a driveway before he climbed back in and drove away. It was late at night and I remember I was still in my pyjamas and how funny my slippers looked against the grass.
“I don’t know how long I stayed there but I know by the time Father Novak came for me, I could barely move I was so cold. He asked me my name and that was it, at least I knew I was called Jimmy. He took me in and set me by the fire and had one of the sisters change me and bring me soup. I lived there ever since.”
“Who was the old man?” Dean asked.
“The woman kept called him ‘daddy,’” Jimmy replied.
“Your grandpa,” Dean whispered, shocked.
“I guess so.”
“Is Father Novak nice?”
“He was. Very nice,” Jimmy nodded. “He died when I was fourteen. After that the home wasn’t so nice anymore.”
“I’m sorry, Jimmy.”
“Me too,” Jimmy smiled sadly, then he reached up and ruffled Dean’s hair again, breaking the tension.
Dean scowled and ducked the hand, swatting at it playfully.
“I’ll see you around, Dean. I had fun.”
“Wait! Ji-”
“Jimmy was tired,” Castiel said. Suddenly Jimmy’s causal slouch was ramrod straight. His body was still on the ground but he no longer looked at ease in the position.
“Hi, Cas,” Dean said.
“Hello, Dean.”
“You’ll keep looking out for him, right?”
“Always.”
November, 2005
“Wait, wait,” Sam held up a palm. “All this crap is happening because some angels want to wear us to the prom? You mentioned Michael, but who is the other one?”
Castiel and Dean had given Sam the rundown of what had been their lives for the past thirteen years. Dean could see clearly that Sam was trying to wrap his head around all the new information but he also knew Sam needed all the facts before he could do so. Dean couldn’t help but agree with Sam, because even he didn’t know the name of the mysterious angel that wanted to take one of them on. For some reason Castiel had never shared that tidbit.
“He doesn’t matter,” Castiel said quickly. “Michael’s goal is to prevent that from ever happening, that is why he wanted you two kidnapped as children. He could kill the vessel of the other angel and keep his under lock and key.”
“Okay, but I still think it would help if we knew just who we were dealing with,” Sam said carefully.
“Yeah, Cas, Sammy’s right. Why are you so dead-set against sharing the name with us?”
Castiel sighed and looked at both brothers. This was not an easy topic to discuss. Castiel had no desire to share the name of his other brother because then his brother’s true identity would be revealed and neither Sam nor Dean would rest any easier with the knowledge. If anything, it would make it far, far worse.
“Spit it out, Dude,” Dean prompted. “Need to play with a full deck here.”
“Lucifer,” Castiel replied. “My other brother is Lucifer. Michael is to battle him in End Times to determine humanity’s fate.”
“Lucifer,” Sam repeated, in a shocked whisper. “The Devil.”
Dean stared anxiously at his brother, his gaze only flitting briefly to Castiel then back again. He thought he had heard wrong, but Sam heard it too.
“So who’s who?” Dean asked after a few moments of tense silence.
Castiel shook his head, his eyes sad as he looked between the brothers. “I’m not a hundred percent sure. It could be either of you or just one. Generally, when angels take a vessel there is only one vessel per family; a single child household or one child who is not devout enough to house an angel. In this case, I believe, there is one of you per one of my brothers. I don’t think they could share you as vessels. Zachariah, my superior, never actually shared with me who was going to die and who was to live.”
Dean nodded and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Lucifer probably wants to jump me. It would make more sense. I never really believed in angels or God until one came along and saved my life,” Dean smiled at Cas here. “Not to mention the entire corruption of an angel thing I got going on. Isn’t that what Satan was all about? Corrupting the pure? And Sammy’s always been a better person than me so he’s probably for Michael.”
Castiel didn’t agree or disagree and Sam too was very quiet. Both of them were inclined to disagree with Dean. Dean was thinking too broadly; angels were often far more literal than that.
Dean may not always be ‘good’ but he was righteous, much like Michael, God’s greatest warrior. Michael also remained loyal, true and obedient to God, their Father, much like Dean. Whereas Sam had only ever remained loyal and true to Dean.
One thing that Castiel had only ever contemplated with John on one or two drunken nights when the boys were still teenagers was that Sam had a taint. An edge of darkness throbbing under his skin and that darkness was growing ever since he turned twenty-two.
If Castiel had been of higher rank in Heaven he might have known what had happened to Sam when Azazel attacked him that night, but as it was, Castiel had only ever been able to tell that it was a demon until John revealed that the demon had yellow eyes. Castiel only knew of one demon in existence with such a feature and to date he was the only demon this century to contact Lucifer directly, as far as the angel’s knowledge went. Which clearly meant that Sam was directly linked to Castiel’s fallen brother. Dean would refuse to believe it however.
“Regardless,” Castiel said, “I must protect the both of you. I refuse to allow either of you to say ‘yes’ or to be killed.”
“Say yes?” Sam wanted to know, brow furrowing.
“An angel needs consent to enter a vessel,” Castiel explained.
Sam gaped at the angel and his brother, reeling from the information. “So you’re riding around in some poor bastard?”
“Jimmy’s cool with it, Sam,” Dean explained patiently.
“What? Have you asked? I mean does he want…” Sam flapped his hand between Dean and Castiel and Dean flushed hotly.
“He’s cool with it, Sam,” Dean stressed. “He knows everything and he’s given his consent for everything. He’s a good guy, I’d even consider him a friend.”
“Ah… isn’t that awkward though?”
“Typically, I keep Jimmy’s soul in a static state; once he turned eighteen that is. An angel is not allowed to permanently control a vessel until that vessel has reached the age of majority, not that the complexities of our sex-life are really any of your business,” Castiel explained coolly.
Sam flushed. “Just wanted to make sure that you weren’t… you know…”
“Stop it right there, Sam, the fact that you’d even wonder about something like that is actually really insulting,” Dean glowered.
“Sorry, this is just all really new, all right? I really didn’t think that… Never mind. Like you said, not my business, but Dad is. So there’s more to that symbol I saw on his bathroom door than what you were saying, isn’t there,” it was a statement not a question.
“Yeah, it means that for some reason, angels were after Dad. That’s a banishing sigil for angels. It sends them to God knows where. Takes at least three hours for them to find their way back once you use it,” Dean explained.
Castiel got up and went over to the desk, sketching the sigil out quickly and handing it to Sam. “Memorize it, but remember: it has to be drawn in blood and be fairly large. You need to press your palm flat against the centre to activate the magic.”
“Do you seriously think they’re going to come after us?” Sam asked, voice small. “I mean, we have demons on us and now angels? How is that fair? And what about Jess? Why would demons want to kidnap her or kill her? What would that accomplish?”
“We don’t know, Sam,” Castiel said softly. “And that’s the problem. I wish I had the answers for you, but I don’t. Right now the only thing we can do is continue to look for your father and see if we can discover where the demons might have taken Jessica.”
“Yeah, Sammy, we’re aren’t gonna stop until we find them both, all right?” Dean offered a small grin. “Now we just gotta figure out where those coordinates go, follow Dad’s trail, but I think we should all get some sleep.”
“It’s already been a few days though, Dean, what if the trail gets colder?” Sam said.
“A few extra hours won’t hurt, Sam, and neither you or me will be any use behind the wheel right now and it isn’t fair to make Cas do all the driving all the time. We’ll get up early and get right on it tomorrow.” Dean stood and clapped his brother on the shoulder. He returned a few seconds later with sheets, blankets and a few extra pillows. Dean nudged Sam until the younger man got off the couch and Castiel helped Dean clear away the cushions and pull out the bed hidden away.
“I can do it my-”
“Sam, just let me, all right?” Dean replied, exasperated.
“Dean-” Sam tried again.
Castiel came over to Sam and offered him a small smile. “Let Dean do this for you, it’s small and perhaps a little trivial but he enjoys taking care of you.”
“He doesn’t have to anymore,” Sam huffed, but leaned back against the desk alongside Castiel.
“We both know that, Sam, but it doesn’t change anything. One thing we will never break Dean out of is his tendency to take care of everyone.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes I just wish he would do something for himself,” Sam huffed.
Dean clapped his hands together. “All right, Sammy, all done. If you need anything in the night help yourself. Bathroom’s the first door on the right. I’ll let you get in there first. Night.”
“Night, Dean, and thanks,” Sam smiled.
Dean and Castiel left Sam to it then. The green-eyed man led the angel to their bedroom and began shucking out of his clothing. Castiel watched shamelessly as Dean undressed, gradually revealing tantalising strips of skin. Dean pulled on pyjama pants and a butter soft t-shirt before flopping on the bed and dragging Castiel down on top of him.
“God, should I feel guilty that I’m glad Sam’s here, considering why he’s here?” Dean asked.
“You missed your brother, Dean, it’s understandable. Besides, we’ll get Jessica back, we can hold on to the fact that they didn’t kill her and be thankful.”
Castiel watched Dean carefully as the man’s eyes slowly began to droop, even lying in what had to be an uncomfortable position with his legs hanging off the bed and Castiel half on top of him. Castiel moved to shift away, but Dean murmured sleepily and tightened his hold where his hands rested lightly on Castiel’s hips and bottom.
Castiel kissed Dean’s neck softly, then he moved up the man’s jaw then pressed a chaste kiss to his pink lips. Dean blinked open blurry green eyes.
“Hello there, was just waking to inquire whether you wanted to actually be in bed to sleep,” Castiel teased gently.
“Hmm?”
Castiel chuckled and pushed up and off of Dean, smiling at Dean’s quiet sounds of protest at losing Castiel’s weight. The angel shifted the human so that he was lying on the bed properly and tucked him under the blankets. Dean reached out for Castiel as the blue-eyed man moved away.
“I’ll be there in a second,” Castiel whispered. “Just thought we’d both be more comfortable if I changed.”
Dean murmured his assent, nosed aggressively at his pillow and rolled slightly onto his side. Dean would be irritated in the morning that Castiel didn’t wake Dean enough to carry out his nightly routine of face-washing and teeth-brushing, but Castiel also knew that this was probably the most comfortable and content Dean had been in weeks and the hunter needed his sleep.
Castiel turned off the dim bedside lamp, then curled up at Dean’s side. Dean immediately rolled onto his stomach into Castiel’s heat and rested his head close to his husband, already mostly asleep.
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