As he took a shortcut through the forest to get back to his motel room, Dean knew he was not alone. His suspicion was even confirmed every few minutes when he'd hear a rustle in the leaves, or a twig snap. Sure, it could have just been an innocent woodland creature, perhaps a rabbit that was following him, but his instincts knew better and his gut told him otherwise. He knew he was being hunted, but by what? He wasn't in the right forest for it to be a wendigo, a shapeshifter would have made the stalking more obvious, and any other creature or spirit would have already attacked by now.
Maybe it's a new son of a gun Dean thought as a shiver went down his spine. His day had already been filled to the brim with ganking monsters and he was positive that he didn't have enough energy nor the right weaponry to kill any new type of monsters. Not today anyway.
Against his better judgement, Dean continued on through the forest, slightly quickening his pace. He didn't want to break out into a run yet and give whatever it was that was following him a nice chase before it ate/killed/maimed him.
When he heard a larger stick break, followed by the rustle of leaves, indicating that whatever was obviously following him wanted to be acknowledged, he gave in. He turned around and yelled, "Okay smart aleck you can come out now! We both know you want some of this, but you're gonna have to earn it first!" Dean hoped his light taunting would help to draw out the monster, not anger it.
Judging by how furious the sounds of the following growls he heard were, it was clear that he got the latter. Despite his instinct to run, Dean remained calm. Even though there was the astoundingly high chance that he could die in those woods, he still remained, relatively, calm.
Slowly, he reached into his pocket to take out his gun with one hand, and with the other he patted his back pocket to make sure the demon blade was still there. He knew those weapons would most likely be of no use, but he still liked to have the comfort of them being there.
That's when he felt it. That tingly sensation, like someone's behind you. He whipped his head around so fast that he almost bumped into the stranger standing behind him, proving his assumptions to be correct. Dean stumbled backward, away from the strange human who seemed to come out of no where. Well, at least what looked like a human.
The guy Dean was now face to face with bore a cream colored trenchcoat, one that was so big it practically drowned the rest of his body. Stubble speckled his chin and surrounded his pink, chapped lips. On the top of his head sat a mop of disheveled, unruly dark brown hair. He was about Dean's height, albeit a bit shorter.
His most intriguing feature, however, was none other than his piercing blue eyes. They were such a vivid blue that they intensified his hold on Dean. His knitted brow added even more hatred to his glare, which sent chills through Dean's entire body.
Suddenly Dean noticed their close proximity, that they were only mere inches apart, but before he could break the uncomfortable silence, the mysterious stranger pinned him against a tree, knocking the wind out of him. It all happened so fast that Dean was temporarily dazed, trying to process what just happened. When he returned to his senses, he began to violently kick at the man, since his hands were being pinned down.
He put all of his power into his kicks, but they were more or less ignored by the guy. In fact, they had no effect on him at all as he continued to hold Dean to the tree and stare through him. Feeling defeated, and more than a bit uncomfortable, Dean stopped kicking. Once he had done so, the man took that as his cue to start the inevitable conversation.
"Who are you?" the stranger said, "State your name and purpose." The gruffness of his voice was enough to leave Dean slightly taken aback, but he quickly found his voice.
"The name's Dean Winchester," he boasted, "You may have heard of me and my brother, Sam. Yeah, we're the guys monsters like you have nightmares about, so I would suggest you let me go." He decided to throw in his real name for good measure because he was a freakin' Winchester and that had to count for something. He and Sam had to have slaughtered hundreds of different types of monsters in their time, and if nothing else, he wanted to provoke some fear into his potential kidnapper.
The stranger did not loosen his grip on Dean, nor did he break eye contact, but instead he cocked his head to the side and smirked. "Silly insignificant human," he growled, "Are you actually trying to intimidate me?" His smirk turned into a full blown toothy grin, but nevertheless, it was still menacing. "Try and put this through that thick skull of yours," his hand shot up to grasp Dean's neck as he hissed his threat through gritted teeth, "There is absolutely nothing stopping me from bleeding you dry right now." His grip on Dean's throat gradually got tighter as he threatened his prey.
So it's a vampire, Dean thought, with an odd sense of relief. At least it was something he knew how to handle. Of course, he didn't have the right tools for handling it, but at least he had a good idea of what the vampire was thinking. Despite the fact that he was getting dizzy from lack of oxygen, he began to think of his next move while he slowly reached for the demon knife with his free hand. The vampire quickly caught on and moved his hand from his throat to swiftly pin down his wandering hand, quick as a flash.
Even though he was in quite a complicated situation, Dean still had an essence of calmness to him, a state in which those near death can feel. He couldn't quite put his finger on why not even a hint of adrenaline was rushing through his veins, but in general he was finding it hard to concentrate. The vampire's sharp sapphire eyes were staring daggers into his green ones, and Dean would be lying if he said he didn't find that more than a bit endearing. As he stared into his eyes to find something other than pure hatred, and found nothing, they still possessed the ability to be tranquil in a way Dean couldn't wrap his head around.
"If you're as big and bad as you say you are," Dean said, feeling conquered, "Then why haven't you ended me all ready?"
The vampire, to the surprise of Dean, lowered his arm from pinning his chest and took a step back. He tilted his head to other side while he kept his perplexed expression, along with the intense eye contact, and said, "What? You don't think you deserve to be saved?"
At first Dean figured his question to be rhetorical, but the silence and staring that followed told him otherwise. While he contemplated his answer, he took a moment to swallow in an attempt to ease his dramatically dry throat when suddenly, the vampire jerked his head to the right, breaking their staring contest. He stared off into the distance for several seconds, as if listening for something. He looked back at Dean and said, "My brethren are coming. Soon they will pick up your scent, and when they do, they will deliberately suck you dry, ever so slowly. When they see that I haven't done so all ready, I'll have a most... unpleasant consequence. We must hide immediately," and with that, the vampire started heading off in the other direction.
The urgency in his voice told Dean that it was probably best to follow, but why should he trust a vampire? He hadn't heard any suspicious noises, and for all he knew the vampire could've been lying to him simply to lead him to a nest of blood suckers.
"No." Dean said defiantly, crossing his arms for good measure and not caring that it made him look like a child about to throw a tantrum.
The trench coat wearing vampire spun around to face the human. "No?" he whispered. "No!?" he said a bit louder that time. He took a step forward and jabbed his index finger into Dean's chest as he growled, "Now listen here Mr. Dean Winchester." Dean took a shuddering breath to compensate for their closeness. It wasn't even that he was afraid, he figured, it was just... something else. "When someone like me gives you the opportunity to save yourself," he clenched a fistful of Dean's shirt for emphasis, "It would be wise of you to take it."
He released Dean from his grasp once more and Dean released a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
Without waiting for a response, the vampire grabbed Dean by the hand and pulled him through the forest, away from the oncoming threat. They moved at amazing speed, due to the vampiric strength, and soon they were in a completely different part of the forest. The leaves had shifted color, it was significantly colder and Dean could smell the vague smell of popcorn, indicating that there was human life nearby.
He realized that even though they were relatively safe, the vampire was stil holding his hand tightly, almost possesively. He pulled away his hand to scratch his head and look around, but not before blush stained his cheeks.
"So um," he stammered, trying to look anywhere except at the vampire, who he could feel staring at him, "What now?"
The vampire knit his eyebrows together again and Dean swore that if he didn't cut that out his face would get stuck that way. "What now?" he repeated, "Now you go back to where you once came and I never see you again."
Dean's chest clenched a little at the words, but he chose to ignore that. "Well I guess this is it then."
The vampire's expression softened slightly as he said, "Yes, I um, suppose it is."
After an awkward pause, Dean outstretched his hand, suggesting that they get properly aquatinted. The vampire stared at his hand, as if contemplating what to do with it, until finally he took it in his own hand and shook.
"So um, yeah you know my name, and I guess this is it Mr..."
"Castiel."
Dean swallowed the urge to make fun of his silly name, not wanting to anger him further. "Castiel," he tested it on his tongue, "Interesting name." He bit on his lip to refrain from laughing.
Castiel, who most likely sensed the human's amusement, tightened his grip on Dean's hand, causing him to yelp in pain. "It was given to me by the Council, and it means shield of God. If I were you I would think twice about gigging." He finally released Dean's hand, much to Dean's relief.
"I was not giggling," Dean protested, "Men don't giggle."
"Well," Castiel said as he crossed his arms and smiled smugly, "You must not be a man then."
That's it, Dean thought, I don't care If he is a vampire I am going to punch this guy in the throat. Castiel's smile did nothing but grow wider as he whipped around and headed away from Dean, into the forest and back to his brethren.