AAAHHHH! What am I doing with my life! Anyway! This had been floating around ambiguously in my head for... a month? Maybe. But I just couldn't figure out how to write it. Then the song "Come With Me Now" by The Kongos inspired the atmosphere/feel, but I still couldn't make that connection. It all finally came together on the way to work one day when "Maps" by Maroon 5 came on. First, I was like "huh... this is SO Destiel!" Then it hit me, and I finally had the characterization in down in my head.
Title is Latin for "Safety," which is what the theme of this fic is kind of about. The title for this particular chapter is "Caries," which is Latin for "Corruption." ...This is all because I have a terrible obsession with making titles from Latin words (like I know Latin or something... lol), ESPECIALLY when it comes to my Destiel.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. Apparently, if I did, all the episode titles would be in Latin?
Sam actually winced at the cracking sound, and if the werewolf hadn't been such a fucking dick, he probably would have felt bad for the guy. As things stood, though, Sam was perfectly fine with standing back as Dean beat the shit out of the monster, bones snapping as they came into contact with Dean's fists.
After Dean had become a demon and started hunting again, Sam had, at first, struggled with the inhumanity of his brother's actions. He'd since learned it was best to let Dean take out his need to inflict pain and suffering this way. Dean was at least doing a little good this way, and it was better than what happened when they tried to keep him on a tight leash.
One final crack echoed throughout the warehouse as Dean snapped the monster's neck. Utter silence followed. Dean dropped the now-limp body, watching, eyes completely black, how it crumbled to the floor. Sam's stomach churned anxiously, and the thickness of the silence was starting to get to him.
Sam cleared his throat. "Right. Well, since you're done, we should get back to the bunker."
Dean rounded on him, black eyes narrowing dangerously. "What makes you think we're done?" he asked, voice laced with dark intent.
"Um... because you killed the werewolf," Sam answered, not in the least bit threatened by his brother's display. Dean had been a demon for months now- if he had any intentions of harming Sam, he would have done it by now.
Dean's lip twisted hideously into something between a sneer and a smirk.
"Come on, Sammy," he crooned, "since when were you so unimaginative?"
Sam actually rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Come on, Dean. Cas is-"
Before he could even say what Cas was doing, Dean cut him off with an inhumane howl of anger.
"Fuck Cas!" the demon growled.
Sam simply raised an eyebrow at his brother.
Dean glared at him, all but growling through labored breaths. And then, suddenly, as if he hadn't been having some kind of freak out, Dean stood up straight, his breath evening out, and eyes flashing back to green.
Sam raised the other eyebrow, looking thoroughly bemused.
Dean sent a devilish smirk his brother's way. "Well, Sammy, you may have had enough fun for the evening, but I'm just getting started."
And with a showy flash of sulfur and smoke, he was gone.
Castiel glanced up from his book when he heard someone enter the bunker. When he saw Sam walk in, fingers pinched around the bridge of his nose, Cas tilted his head to the side, watching as the hunter made his way down to the main level.
"You're alone," he observed.
Sam glanced up, as though he had just noticed the angel (which was entirely possible, the younger Winchester having seemed very immersed in his own thoughts).
"Hey, Cas," Sam greeted, flopping down into a chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose once more, sighing in frustration, before sprawling out across the seat and staring up at the ceiling.
Castiel continued to stare at the Winchester patiently.
Several minutes passed this way, until Sam finally looked up at the other man, wearing a tired smile.
"You've got to know how creepy that is," he said lightheartedly, referring, of course, to the angel's continued staring.
Castiel continued to watch him, replying, "Your brother has tried to explain it to me at great length."
This earned a chuckle from the hunter.
Sam met Castiel's eyes, and the small smile fell off his face. "He's getting worse, Cas."
Castiel broke the eye contact, making a small sound of acknowledgment. His eyes went back down to the book in his lap, studying it as though it held all the answers he sought.
Sam let his head fall back again, running his hands over his face and then through his hair. "I don't know what to do, Cas."
Castiel hummed in thought, still staring at the book.
When Dean finally returned to his room at the bunker, it was early morning, the sky just beginning to turn gray, and he was drunk off bloodshed and actual alcohol both. It was an ambrosia of debauchery that helped ease and distract from the other demonic desires and fixations that made to tear apart his mind. However, when he found Castiel in his room, the pleasant buzz was quickly doused out.
The damn angel was sitting on his bed, staring at him expectantly with those fucking endless blue eyes. He noticed the dark circles under Cas's eyes- the bastard had been waiting up for him.
Dean's stomach burned pleasantly at the thought of pushing the angel into the mattress and making his wait so very worth his while.
These were exactly the thoughts he'd been running from lately, and yet here Cas sat on the demon's bed, all disheveled and ripe for the taking.
"Dean," Castiel greeted, a hint of disapproval in his voice, and said demon found himself distracted by the angel's lips- oh, the things he could have those lips doing...
Utterly disgusted with himself for the train of thought, Dean's lip curled up in an ugly snarl as he growled out, "What?"
A look of hurt flickered across Castiel's face, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. Still, it was enough to pierce something deep within Dean, enough to make guilt churn in his stomach alongside the dark desires directed at his friend.
Castiel regarded Dean coolly. "Sam and I are worried about you."
Dean let out a harsh bark of laughter, causing Cas to knit his brow and adorably tilt his head in confusion.
Dean grinned wolfishly at him, advancing on him. "You should be more worried about other things. Yourself, for example."
He reached a hand out and wrapped it around the angel's throat. It was supposed to be a scare tactic, Dean not really wanting to harm the angel, but when his fingers met Cas's flesh, a white, hot spark ignited in him. He swallowed thickly, jaw clenched and fingers twitching with the need to add pressure to the touch. Meanwhile, Cas just kept staring up into Dean's now black eyes, unmoving and unafraid. It was too damn much.
Dean ripped his hand away with a bestial howl so loud that it reverberated against the concrete walls. He wouldn't be surprised if Sam had heard and ran down to check it out (good, let him remove the infuriatingly stubborn angel).
He fisted both hands into his hair, breathing heavy and rough, turning his back to Cas. He could still feel those eyes, though, boring into his back, and it sent his blood boiling.
Faster than human eyes could comprehend, Dean surged at the angel, pinning him to the bed. Dean flexed his fingers experimentally around Castiel's neck.
"I could ruin you," he threatened, staring deep into blue eyes. Blue eyes that held no fear.
"You won't hurt me," Castiel insisted assuredly.
"Don't be so sure about that," Dean snarled in Cas's face, fingers tightening around his neck, hand pressing closer against the oh-so-fallen angel's delicate windpipe.
Still, Castiel's confident gaze never faltered, and it sent a white hot rage through the demon.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," he growled, mere centimeters from Cas's face. And something in him snapped.
Tangling his free hand into Cas's hair, pulling hard, he crashed his lips to the ones below him. It was all teeth and carnal hunger- a need to dominate and ruin. Cas was unresponsive below him, causing him a feeling of bitter victory at his rightness. It was a feeling that was short lived.
Castiel's hands found their way into Dean's hair, kissing the demon back. The bastard even had the gall to moan.
It took Dean by surprise, but more than that, it settled the burning rage in his body more than anything else had to date.
Huge thanks to my beta, PharoComics! I may not have taken a lot of her direction this time around, but it's always so appreciated, and she saved me from some very embarrassing typographical blunders.
So! First of all, I hope Sam was up to par! This was the very first time I've ever written him, and it was simultaneously easier than expected while also being much more difficult than anticipated. Like... his "bitch" voice? So easy. Other parts? Not so much lol.
Also, this will be AT LEAST three parts. That's how I have it mapped out in my head, anyway, but as I say that, it's starting to spin off on it's own, so... Maybe more? But definitely no less than three. Though don't ask me when the next part will come out. Your guess is as good as mine lol.