Still half-asleep, Castiel savoured the quiet peace he felt, lying in his bed, enjoying the sensation on the sheets against his naked skin. But, all of sudden, something moved next to him and what looked like a great lump crashed his left shoulder. He immediately tensed, ready to kill whatever it was when a soft snore brought him back to reality. Oh. Right. It was Dean.
It wasn't as if Dean and he were in a relationship – Castiel was sneering, just thinking of it. Nothing romantic or lovey-dovey bullshit between them. Dean was living his life and he was living his, in two different, separated compartments. Only, once, Dean had come and slept with him. Which had been, admittedly, a pretty big deal. One just doesn't have sex with who might be his life-long nemesis, even though the latter was more or less held hostage. A CIA agent and a Russian spy are alone together in a flat… It almost sounds like the beginning of a bad joke. It had been an awful decision to make and Castiel had assumed they had this unspoken agreement that it would be a one-time occasion.
Except that Dean had come back. And again. And again. He came almost every day now. And the most ludicrous thing was that he didn't always come for sex. Sometimes he just came to talk and he laughed and joked and finally went to sleep without trying anything further than snuggling a bit against Castiel like the giant cuddler he was. And what disturbed Castiel the most was that he kind of liked to see Dean, to see him laugh, to see him smile, this cute crooked smile of his that made his eyes shine like… No. No. Definitely not going there.
As on duty, Dean chose this moment to wake up.
"'Morning" he mumbled, yawning.
Unconsciously, Castiel's face softened. "Hi, there, gorgeous."
Dean practically purred and his hand sneaked up to rest on Castiel's stomach. "Idiot." He said affectionately.
In answer, Castiel pushed one of his legs between Dean's and, feeling the hardness there, winked. Dean groaned but somehow managed to pull away and got up.
"I would love to stay and play but some of us have work to do, you know."
"If I was able to work, I'd make sure to keep you busy either way."
Castiel bit his lips and wished he had kept his mouth shut. It was an unspoken rule not to mention his past life as a spy. Memories linked to it were too bitter. Moreover, it was dangerous. Castiel didn't exactly know what Dean knew about his past activities and the less the better. For his sake and Dean's. But Dean just chuckled.
"Idiot." He repeated. "You know, I think…"
But what Dean thought, Castiel should never know for the phone rang at this exact instant. Castiel picked it up with a bit of apprehension. The only person who had ever called him here was Sam and Sam had never seen the need to call him so early.
"Hello?"
"Castiel? Thank God, I was afraid you'd be sleeping at this hour."
"Why? Sam, what is it?"
"I have… news."
"Meaning?"
"Amelia. The CIA found her. And she wants to talk to you."
XxX
Castiel was scared. It was no good trying to pretend he wasn't. He was scared and rightly so. Amelia was sitting in front of him, her eyes as open and honest as ever. Her eyes were green and pretty enough, Castiel thought dimly, but Dean's were more beautiful, brighter, like spring sprouts when hers recalled troubled water.
Great. Now he was scared and waxing bad poetry about Dean's eyes.
Speaking of Dean, here was another reason not to feel comfortable. Dean was wearing his stone mask, all closed and hard. He was here for professional reasons, representing the CIA, along with Crowley. Henricksen was standing a bit in the back and looking pointedly in another direction. Technically, this meeting was under his jurisdiction but with his superiors' presence, it probably wouldn't be the case in all actuality. Poor guy.
Next to Castiel, Sam cleared his throat and smiled awkwardly when Castiel looked at him. He had insisted to assist him, both as his lawyer and as moral support and for that, Castiel was grateful.
"Jimmy?" said Amelia, breaking his thoughts.
It was weird – in an awful way – to hear this mouth calling him this name. He flinched and saw Dean's right first curling.
"Amelia." He answered, trying to keep his tone neutral. "They… they told me they, ah, found you."
"They did."
"How's Claire?"
"Fine, she… she doesn't know, she was having a sleepover when these… charming gentlemen knocked at our door."
"Good. Good."
God, it was awkward. He didn't know what to tell her, which was a horribly sad thing if you thought about it, given they had spent a whole part of their life together. He tried not to goggle at her too hard and dropped his eyes. He didn't love her, he could admit as much, not like he used to. For a long time, he had felt guilty about it, about not mourning her absence, about not thinking about her more often. It had been one of the reasons his romantic relationships had been so few afterwards. That and his job, obviously. The only serious partners he had had since were a sex worker in Philadelphia called Meg and… He mentally slapped himself when he realised he had been on the verge to think of Dean as his current partner. As if.
Suddenly, Amelia sighed loudly and reached forward to hug him.
"We're both being stupid." She declared roughly. "I… I missed you, Jimmy. Despite… everything. I have wanted to… apologize. Start it all over. As friends, maybe? Going to the movie theatre, to exhibitions, speaking ill of my colleagues…"
"I missed you too, Amy." Castiel blurted. The nickname had come to his lips naturally and he immediately bit his tongue. It wasn't as if he deserved to act like an intimate with her. Not yet, anyway.
But Amelia just smiled and took a step back. "We should hang out. One day. You know. Like the good old time."
Castiel gave her his first genuine smile. "I'd love that."
XxX
"I don't know if I like her."
In his pyjamas, which consisted in an overlarge t-shirt and loose joggings, Dean was Dean again and not anymore the grim and cold Agent Winchester Castiel loathed passionately. He was frowning in a pouty way, which Castiel should not find adorable.
"I wonder why." Hummed Castiel. "I must say, you were such the friendly host yourself."
Dean huffed a laugh and let himself fall on the bed. He stayed quiet for a few minutes before asking:
"Are you still… you know? In love with her? With her being your wife and all?"
Castiel turned to him, his left eyebrow raised. "She is not. She is Jimmy Novak's widow. I have stopped being him a long time ago."
"Yet, you let her call you Jimmy."
"It's easier for her."
"So you do care about her."
"Yes, Dean, I do. Like you care about Lisa. And before you ask, I care about Claire like you care about your son. I might be a "villain" in your biased narrowed views, but I still can have feelings for what had been the closest thing of a family to me."
Castiel hadn't meant to sound that angry. But it was as if he couldn't keep himself in check when Dean was around. It wasn't good. He was showing that he was affected by what Dean said. That he was weak. Vulnerable. He opened his mouth to brush off his previous comment but Dean didn't let him.
He rolled on top of Castiel and locked his head between his arms.
"Cas" he growled, his mouth ghosting over the other man's lips. "You complete, complete idiot."
He kissed him, soft but unstoppable, his arms and legs tightening around Castiel. Castiel responded eagerly and Dean let out a shaky laugh as he slightly pulled away.
"Don't ever change." He whispered, putting his forehead against Cas's.
Castiel groaned a bit in appreciation or in agreement, but his groan quickly became a moan as Dean started to roll his hips against his, while staying on top of him. Castiel could hardly move but the restraint was exciting more than it was threatening. Once again, he wondered idly why he was feeling so safe with Dean but his interrogation got lost as his arousal grew more accentuated. Dean moved minutely so their erections were grinding against each other and Castiel gasped at the sensation. Dean quickened his pace and abruptly went very still as he released. Castiel quickly followed, pushing his head back and very nearly knocking his teeth against Dean's nose in the process.
He grimaced when he saw their stomach and thighs, covered by sperm. It wasn't alarming as both of them were clean but the sticky sensation wasn't enjoyable.
"It's messy." He complained.
Dean snorted and lied back to his side.
"It's always messy with us." Castiel heard him say before surrendering to sleep.
A week later, at Castiel's disappointment, Dean hadn't warmed up toward Amelia. He was always cold, even suspicious around her and Castiel had learnt not to mention her when they were alone.
It was becoming hard though, because he and Amelia were now spending most of their time together. Castiel would have liked to see Claire as well but he agreed with his former wife when she explained she preferred Claire to be out of this business, safe at a friend of hers'. Nevertheless, Amelia seemed genuinely pleased to be with him. Of course, both of them were under strict protection but, in a certain way, they were on their own. Even more so when Crowley finally agreed to let them chilling outside and not only stuck in Castiel's flat. Another thing Castiel owed Amelia.
"I told him I didn't really care if he allowed it" she had said, cutely wrinkling her nose. "If he didn't we'd sneak out. We'd see how well they'd protect us that way."
Castiel had laughed fondly and spontaneously taken her hand, while Dean had scowled behind them. But at this instant, Castiel hadn't cared. That had been so her, so Amy, this touch of innocent mischief, that he hadn't been able to help himself.
That's how they had found themselves walking aimlessly in the neighbourhood, a sour Dean on their heels. It was a cold day of October but it didn't bother them. Castiel was talking and talking, a giggling Amelia at his arm, her cheeks red with the wind, as voluble and eager as a child.
As a roasted chestnuts' seller passed on the opposed pavement, Castiel caught Amelia looking at him longingly and winked at her before starting to walk toward him. He didn't see the car. It was a black car. And fast. Very fast. Dean was even faster. He jumped to Castiel, yanking him backward by the collar and using his own body as a human shield, bumping his shoulder against the car body. They fell but Dean immediately got up to his feet, grabbed his phone and started yelling at it: "Have you bloody seen that?" he barked.
Amelia came to Castiel, pale and visibly shaken.
"Jimmy! Are you alright?"
Castiel didn't have the heart to tell her she didn't need to worry. That he had faced worse. That she'll probably need more support than him afterwards. He let her help him. Because it was easier for her. But Dean didn't apparently agree with him.
"What do you think you're are doing?" he snarled at her, hanging up.
"I, I don't…"
"He had been the victim of an attempt of murder, you are a potential suspect and you think I'll let you get close?"
"I didn't… Jimmy…."
"Castiel is here because you asked for it, he was crossing the street because of you, pretty big suspicions which pointed at you as an accomplice or a planner, Miss Ronan."
"I, I'm not…"
"Her name is Mrs Novak and you will watch your tone, Agent Winchester, or my lawyer will know a CIA agent used foul language against a civilian under protection." Castiel's voice was cold and impersonal and for one second, Dean was taking back to this horrendous night when a tortured, bloody Cas had spoken to him with the same venom in his voice.
"Excuse us, Amy. We will wait for Agent Henricksen here and Agent Winchester will take me back to my flat. I'll see you tomorrow. Have rest, none of it is your fault."
"Okay, Jimmy… Castiel."
No, thought desperately Castiel. No, don't look at me like that, let me be Jimmy. Please, Amy. But he knew it was over. He had known since the very second Dean had opened his mouth to round at her. It wasn't for her sake that I let her call me Jimmy. It was for mine, he realised. Because he had wanted to go back to these happy years when he had been a normal husband and father, with a loving wife and a child who had his eyes. He had wanted it with all he had. But Dean wouldn't accord him this much.
He kept quiet until the door of his flat closed and they were truly alone.
"I can't believe you." He said between his teeth.
"What? I was right! It was an attempt of murder! The protocol…"
"I don't care about the protocol! She is my friend! She only wanted to help!"
"Yeah, well, she obviously wants to be more than friends if you ask me!" Dean exploded.
Castiel watched him in dismay. So was that all what it was about?
Dean went on. "Thinks she is clever and subtle maybe. Ha! Yeah, right. Always clutching to you, demanding your attention, Jimmy here, Jimmy there. Drowning you under her… attentions…"
"And maybe her attentions don't displease me."
Dean's eyes widened but Castiel's anger was growing. Who does he think he is?
"Maybe I'm not as oblivious or as blind as you seem to enjoy to think. Maybe I like her. Maybe you could have asked before declaring yourself as my knight in shining armour. What are you trying to protect? My virtue? You think I'm that innocent? Maybe I should just have sex with you now to show you how much I'm not. Or maybe you thought about our… "relationship"?" He snorted unkindly. "Sorry to break it for you, Winchester, but you are nothing more than a living sex toy. I should have known you will cause… complications. But well, you warned me back then: it was a bad idea.
So I made a mistake. But it isn't too late to fix it. You will not cross this door alone anymore. That's the most I can do since I can't really ban you from my flat. Not while you officially represent the CIA force. A shame, really, because I'm not sure you'll lose your silly delusions with anything less. However, I will call my lawyer if you don't respect my terms. Believe me, I will."
Dean looked as if he had been slapped but he gave a harsh nod and left without a word, slamming the door behind him.
XxX
"Did you really tell him that?" asked Sam.
Castiel glowered. "Yes, I did. Why?"
Sam shook his head. "God, you really deserve each other."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. But please, don't make me interfere in it. Anyhow, if you really insist to take the matter into trial, I won't be able to represent you. Conflict of interests. But I can recommend you someone. Her name's Moore, I'm sure she'd be good."
"Thank you. I hope it won't be necessary to resort to these extremes, though."
"You and me both."
A soft knock interrupted the conversation, and Castiel opened the door to let Amelia and a tall blonde guy enter.
"Hello Jim… Castiel. That's Agent Roché. I don't think you have met...?"
"Only Balthazar. And now, we haven't." answered the man brightly. "I just entered the service. Pleased to meet you."
"As I am." Answered distantly Castiel, before turning to Amelia. "Hello Amelia. How are you?"
"Better than yesterday, that's for sure."
"Do you want something? A refreshment, an aspirin?"
"Coffee would be nice, thank you."
"Black for me, please. And without sugar." Interjected Balthazar.
Amelia rolled her eyes but headed to the kitchen, dragging Castiel behind her. Sam was left alone with the new agent, eyeing him curiously.
Ten minutes later, Castiel came back to the living room, a fuming cup in each hand, Amelia chatting at his side. Sam was lying unconscious on the floor and Balthazar was looking embarrassed. He rose his arms defensively.
"He was annoying! And asking too many questions. Don't look at me like that."
Castiel turned to Amelia, looking for confusion or fear. He only found anger.
"You were supposed to wait for the signal, you fool!"
"Yeah, well, would you have preferred to see our cover being blown? Believe me when I tell you he wouldn't have waited for the signal."
"Oh, shut up."
"Amelia? …" asked Castiel, refusing to believe what he was hearing.
She threw him a pitiful look and sighed. "What are you going to do with him? The Devil said…"
"Yeah, whatever, I'll just punch him too and we're out of here, I don't know how many fucking guards are around here."
Balthazar walked to Castiel, who immediately took a defensive position. Balthazar snickered.
"Oh, give it up already darling. The lady won't think less of you if you yield now."
Castiel didn't move but concentrate on his adversary's posture, ready to strike. Then Balthazar lurched forward. Castiel blocked him and tried to hit back. It soon appeared they were even in the fight and Balthazar lost his smile. Neither of them had succeeded in hurting seriously the other. It would probably have continued for a little while but Castiel unexpectedly felt a push between his shoulders. Momently off-balance, he lost his support points and Balthazar took advantage by catching him with a hard fist in the stomach. Castiel felt his breathing hatch and his knees give in. The world around him disappeared in a blur.
When his eyes focused again, Amelia was looking down at him, her green eyes big and sorrowful. He had forgotten her. Maybe because of the fight, maybe because he couldn't bear the fact that she betrayed him. He really didn't know. If he was honest, no matter what he wanted to think, he didn't know her anymore. And she had pushed him.
"I'm sorry, Jimmy." She said. "They took Claire."
Then everything went black.
When he got conscious again, he was in a cave, tied up on a chair. A similar scenario crept in his mind and something that felt like hope flared in his chest.
"Oh, don't expect him." Said a mocking voice from a corner.
Castiel watched as the vague talking shadow drew nearer. "Lucifer." He finally said.
"Himself." Grinned the other man. "I missed you, Castiel."
"I fear it isn't mutual."
"Ouch, that hurt. Why, Castiel, we shared so much together." His grin grew bigger. "Of course, it was before you decided to become a CIA agent's whore. Yeah," he added at the surprised look on Castiel's face, "we kept tabs about you. I was a bit disappointed when I learnt how you got caught and how you cracked and Gabriel, oh, Gabriel, you must have seen his face! No, he hadn't, you're lying, he wouldn't! Idiotic man. At least, it was a good reason to execute him. He might have given a hand in your stupid schemes."
"Gabriel hadn't anything to do with it."
"Oh I know. But the others didn't." He whistled. "But well, it happens to the best, and I had always been quite fond of you. But then, I heard about how you got fucked by this… American ape." Anger distorted Lucifer's face. "What was I supposed to think when you had been denying me for years?"
Castiel kept silent.
"Of course, I knew about the little, ah, affair you had with this Ronan cunt…"
"You knew about Amelia?"
"You bet I did, but you left her, didn't you? No reason to resent. And then this absolute slut. What was her name again? Meg? Meg Masters? Tragic death, really. You never wondered about that?"
"I wondered, but I didn't want to think…"
"Yeah, 'Ignorance is Bliss' and all that. But you never were naïve, Castiel. You knew. And yet, you let yourself being attached again. To a CIA agent, no less. You're hopeless."
"What are you going to do with me?"
"Ha, an interesting question. I first thought to fuck you senseless, just like that. To show you who really own you. But you would just take it, wouldn't you? Take it and look at me with those eyes which would tell 'I had worse, you can't affect me'. No, I had to think bigger. I had to conjure your own worst nightmare."
Lucifer smiled sweetly and went to the back of the room. Castiel fought the silly impulse to twist his neck to let his eyes follow him. Lucifer wasn't to kill him, not yet. He wanted to punish him first. Two minutes later, Lucifer was back, a small syringe in his hand.
"Do you know what that is? This is one of the most powerful hallucinogen on earth. Well, part of it is anyway. The other part is composed of chemical elements which are likely to give one a burst of energy if taken in small portions and to cause intense stress if the portions are more… consequent, you might say." He twirled the syringe between his fingers. "So tell me what will happen if your brain is forced to imagine a highly realistic situation and very stressed out to the point of panic."
"A very disagreeable moment, I presume."
"Your worst nightmare, in full HD, and then, more often than not, death."
"Charming."
"I know."
Deliberately, he planted the syringe in Castiel's neck and emptied it. He then left, singing Beyoncé's "Sweet Dreams" under his breath.
Castiel closed his eyes.
"Hey, Novak, why are you so sad?"
He looked up to see Dean smile at him, blood splashed on his face and his hands, the top of his shirt opened, his tie in his hand. His smile was gentle and his eyes were twinkling. Yeah, his eyes are definitively prettier than Amelia's.
"Don't cry." Said Dean, picking up a tear on Castiel's cheek. Castiel looked at it with surprise. He hadn't noticed he was crying. "After all, the show must go on. Right?"
XxX
Dean was livid.
"What do you mean, you don't know where they went?"
"Calm down, Dean." Said Crowley. "Sam was knocked out cold, he could hardly…"
"I don't care, I don't care! All I care right now is where the hell they took him!"
"Dean." Crowley said again in what he probably intended to be a soothing tone but which just came out annoyed. "If Sam's information is exact, Castiel had been kidnapped by his former organisation and we had been looking for it for who knows how long and we found nuts. The chances to find him are…"
"You watch me" roared Dean. "You watch me good, with your eyes, and you watch me fetch him."
Dean left at this, heading to his car and driving away at insane speed. Sam looked down at Crowley with suspicious eyes.
"I didn't want to distract Dean so I kept quiet, but Crowley, tell me you have nothing to do with all this."
Crowley opened his eyes in false innocence.
"Why, Moose, would I do such a thing?"
"I hope I am wrong, I really hope so, because if I'm not, at the end of it, Dean will come back and tear your head off." He paused. "And God help me, I won't do anything to prevent him from doing so."
Luckily for Crowley, Dean didn't hear this conversation. He was driving to Amelia's. He was going to make this woman talk, and he didn't care about things like "protection" or "no proof". He was going to make her talk.
When he knocked, she came immediately, and stared him hard in the eyes before taking a step back. "Come in."
He did so and looked around him. Her house was simple but comfortable, decorated with childish drawings on the walls.
"Mom? Who's here?" said a young voice.
When Dean saw the owner of the voice, he stopped dead. It was a 10-year-old blonde girl in a pink dress. Her socks were mismatched and her hair was messy but Dean didn't pay attention to that. The first thing he thought was She has her father's eyes.
She also had his thin mouth, and his somewhat leaning posture, the same way to narrow her eyes and even his too serious frown.
"Claire, go to your room, Mom has business to do." Said Amelia quietly.
Claire nodded and disappeared from Dean's sight. He turned back his eyes to her mother. She was looking at him with sorry eyes.
"You really love him, don't you?"
No, Dean wanted to bellow, no, you have it all wrong. I don't love him. I can't. I break everything I touch. I can't love him. And he doesn't love me back.
"You have to understand, they had my daughter."
No, I don't want to understand. You betrayed him. And he trusted you. But Claire's eyes were keeping dancing in front of him and he nodded.
"They found us not long before you, but they still found us first. 'Give us Jimmy' they told me. 'Or you die and your daughter too'. I had loved Jimmy…"
"Castiel."
"… Castiel. I had. With my whole heart. But he wasn't there and Claire was. So I accepted. But they took Claire anyway. 'An insurance' they called it. I lost my husband a long time ago. I couldn't afford to lose her too."
"Tell me where he is."
"I don't know."
"Tell me where or I, I will…"
Dean didn't finish his sentence, either because it was an empty threat or because the consequences would be too horrible to be said aloud, he didn't know. He just knew he needed to know where Castiel was. And that Amelia will help him.
"I don't know." She repeated. "But I know someone who does."
Hope thumped against Dean's chest. Hold on, Cas, I'm coming.
XxX
"It isn't you" said Castiel in a cracked voice. "I'm imagining it. It isn't you."
Dean –no, it wasn't Dean – gazed at him thoughtfully and lazily punched him again right in the face.
"I feel real enough."
He pulled Castiel upwards by his hair and whispered in his ear: "I sound real enough."
He finally sat on his lap, grinded suggestively and mumbled against his collarbone: "I hurt hard enough."
"Stop it. Please."
Dean cackled insanely and his hand ghosted over Castiel's crotch. "Certain parts of your body don't seem to agree with your mouth, baby." He snorted.
Shame travelled through Castiel's body when he noticed the start of his own arousal. He kept telling himself it was only a physical manifestation of high stress but theoretical knowledge was no good when confronted with his overwhelming sensations. Ghost pain, he thought desperately, hallucinations, stressing stimulations. Sweat was covering his face. Sweat or blood? He wasn't sure anymore…
No, it was sweat. His injuries, Dean's hands, his pain, none of it was real.
"You're overthinking it, idiot." Said Dean lovingly. He unzipped Castiel's fly, freeing his dick. "Just enjoy it."
Castiel blinked and Dean was naked. There was blood all over his body now, not only on his hand. He towered over Castiel, winked at him and without further warning fell on his cock. Castiel wanted to scream in horror. It didn't matter it wasn't the real Dean, it didn't matter an illusion couldn't really hurt itself, he wanted to cry at the pain anybody would feel at fuck oneself raw like this Dean was doing, and he wanted to cry at his twisted imagination which created such sick images.
I'm going to turn crazy. I'm going to turn crazy and then, I'm going to die.
"You know" said Dean conversationally, "I never really liked you. You were fun to play with, sure, but come on. You were just so pathetic." He giggled. "Don't feel too bad about it. I mean, you were locked in this apartment most of the time. What could we do? Have sex, talk, and that's the end of it. Sure way to make people bound." He pushed up before falling back, and Castiel had to swallow the bile which was rising to his mouth. "And you were so hungry for this, don't deny it. Always so desperate for my dick. Or maybe for any dick, you whore. But still. You were pretty when you were begging."
He pushed up once more and teased himself by passing lightly his hole above the head of Castiel's penis.
"But then Amelia came. And you, you son of a bitch, you figured that if she was there, you didn't need me anymore. Well, wrong, asshole. You still need me. I don't. But I was angry. I remember this wonderful speech you declaimed me. You really thought I loved you, didn't you?" Dean's laugh was maddening now. "You sorry ass. I never loved you. I was angry because she was taking what was mine. You're mine." Dean emphasized these words by falling down Castiel again.
Castiel was undeniably becoming mad. Between Dean's bitter speech that he had always known, deep inside, and the absolute tangibility of the tightness around his crotch, he was losing his touch with reality. Dean rested against his shoulders, and looked up at him, a crooked smile on his damnable lips.
"If you're seeking a hopeless lover, you're looking at the wrong end of the relationship, Cas."
I won't get off, Castiel thought dimly. I'll die and I won't get off.
At this exact moment, the door exploded. Everything was abruptly too bright, too luminous, and a well-known voice was sobbing in his ear.
"Please, Cas, please, buddy. Stay with me, I need you. I need you, son of a bitch. I love you, goddammit."
20 minutes earlier…
Lucifer loved surprises. And Dean was the biggest surprise of all. He had jumped out of the blue, cornered him and tied him in a blink of the eye.
He had expected Castiel's lover to be boring and stupid. Righteous and dutiful, that kind of bullshit. The man who was standing in front of him was a killer. It was a wonder he ended up working for the CIA and not against them.
"Where is Castiel?"
"In another world where he belongs, hopefully."
Dean shoot in his shoulder coldly and Lucifer gritted his teeth. When everything is over, he'll have to make sure to kill every single people who had been responsible for this carnage.
"Where is Castiel?"
"If you walk away now, I'll guarantee your death to be quick and painless."
Dean showed him a shark smile and moved his hand to grip tightly his wounded shoulder.
"Where is Castiel?"
"Doesn't it ever get tedious for you?"
The hand tightened steadily, making Lucifer hissing in pain.
"Where is Castiel?"
"If you keep going, I'll pass out and won't be any use anymore. Why can't we speak calmly?"
Dean stopped and, Lucifer momentarily thought he made a point.
"I killed three men today, and tortured two of them, in order to find you. Don't think I'll stop. If you die before cooperating, I'll just seek out somebody else until I find Castiel."
"It might be too late, then." Lucifer observed.
Dean went still for a few seconds. "Another reason not to waste more time." He lastly declared, resuming his crushing motion of Lucifer's shoulder.
Lucifer let out a startled laugh. "I can see why he likes you." He smiled. "You're lucky I value my life too much. A more stubborn man would keep his mouth shut. A more stupid one too. Castiel is kept in a shed just outside the town. I didn't have time to bring him too far. The address is on the GPS of my car and the keys are in the safe in the room behind us. The code is 666DEVIL. A joke of mine. Our common friend is under the control of a powerful and potentially lethal drug though, so you might want to hurry."
Dean didn't move. "What tells me you're saying the truth?"
"I'm a lot of things, Agent Winchester, but I'm not a sore loser. I know how to concede defeat and how to plan my revenge. I'm not lying."
Dean nodded and turned on his heels.
"We'll meet again, Winchester." Lucifer promised. "You're… interesting."
Dean nodded once more.
"I really understand what he sees in you!" Lucifer called out again.
Dean rushed to his car, took support on the front door and threw up. He didn't want Castiel to see him like… Like that. He didn't want to be this man, not anymore. He didn't want…
He blinked hard, and got into the car. He'll think about it later. For now, he had a job to do.
Two days later…
Castiel was restless and the doctors were worried. That was everything Dean was sure of. That and the fact that they wouldn't let him go anywhere near Cas because it could "overexcited him uselessly". Dean closed his eyes as he evoked the one and only time Castiel had seen him.
"You" Castiel said. Dean had never heard him sound so frightened. "Don't approach. I know you're not real. It's not real. You can't do anything to me."
"I won't do anything, Cas."
"Yeah, right." Castiel's tone was unbelieving at best. "At least, you're not covered of blood now."
"What do you mean I'm not…?"
"Oh, right, you didn't seem to notice, you probably didn't. Forgive me, I forget. Why are you here? You made your point last time, you don't love me, I love you, end of the story, I was hoping it won't become too redundant."
"I'm not…"
"No, shut up. Go away. No, I didn't mean it, stay. Please, stay. Please, please, be real."
"I'm here with you, Cas."
"No, you're not here, you're not real, YOU'RE NOT REAL!"
Yeah, he could see how he overexcited him.
"Don't pout, Winchester. I'm sure your little angel will be on his feet soon enough."
Dean glared. As if he needed another reason to feel frustrated, he had to wait with this new guy, Balthador or Belazar or whatever the fuck he was called. But of course, it wasn't as if Dean could represent the CIA anymore. He had handed his demission to Crowley the morning following Castiel's awaking. He wanted a way out, he had told Crowley, he had earned it. Crowley had shaken his head but had accepted. And he put Balthy-thingy to replace him. Well, every decision has its downsides.
"I'm going for a walk" announced Dean with a scowl to pointedly show nobody was welcome to join him and he left.
Balthazar waited for a couple of minutes before asking to come in Castiel's room.
He observed him from the doorway. Most of the time, Castiel was conscious, and he was becoming more and more aware of his surroundings. He looked brisker today though. Saner. Maybe he'll be able to recognize me, Balthazar mused. He took a step forward.
Castiel froze when he saw him.
"Balthazar."
"Why, Castiel, I'm flattered, I wasn't sure you'd remember me."
"How can I forget?" answered Castiel drily. "Please, take a seat."
Balthazar sat and smiled.
"How are you here?" asked Castiel.
"What do you think?"
"One can say a lot of things about Crowley, but you can't deny he is good at his job. Which means he knows what you have done. And that he doesn't care. Does it mean he was in the whole time?"
"They all were in. Both sides. But you, Dean and Sam. The eye of the storm, you may call it."
Castiel pondered for a moment before deliberating.
"You're a mercenary."
"Mercenaries" were legion in the Russian Intelligence, as well as in the Russian mafia. They had no definitive sides but worked where it suited them and where they were needed. Not really reliable but highly practical and very expendable. Castiel couldn't help being surprised to learn the CIA used them as well.
"Yes, you, Russians, love calling me that. As if it was a kind of a big insult or something. That's why I prefer Americans. More civilized. They name it a, ah, handy consensus."
"What did you get of all this?"
"Lucifer's gratefulness for helping to bring you down. Crowley's gratefulness for giving Dean motivation to go after the big guys without being bothered by the law and potentially drawing him back to his old, hum, habits. Well, that part didn't quite work out, Dean resigned, a shame if you ask me, I've never seen anyone half as efficient. And of course, protection from both sides, which is always a plus."
"A juicy perspective."
"You don't say. Alas, there is a small flaw: you." Balthazar sighed. "Everyone agreed that you had to die. But Dean was a bit too early and now, you live. So here's the deal. You keep your mouth shut and Dean is out, you are out, and nobody troubles you. You talk and Dean might kill me but I'll make your lives a living hell."
"Sam?"
"He'll never have proof and as the good lawyer he is, he'll never pipe a word without proof. Not when it can bring troubles to his beloved brother."
"I see." Castiel nodded. "It seems fair."
"Good." Balthazar rose. "And now, I shall call your prince to take my place if you promise not to yell at him anymore."
"I won't."
Balthazar disappeared and Castiel played nervously with the corner of his sheets. After what felt like an eternity, Dean was there, glancing uncertainly at him, gorgeous as ever. He moved forward hesitantly. "Are you… okay?"
"You mean, not…?" Castiel made a loony gesture, bringing a small smirk on Dean's lips. "I think so. I feel perfectly sane. But then, 94% of psychotics think they are perfectly sane. So I guess we have to ask ourselves: what is sane?" He swallowed a smile at Dean's dumbfounded expression. "For example, what proves me you are real and not a figment of my imagination?"
Dean reached cautiously for his hand. It was warm and comforting. "I feel real enough." He said in a rough voice.
Castiel smiled sadly at these words. Small wonder that Dean used the very same words his hallucination had. And at this very instant, Castiel knew Balthazar lied. Dean and he won't ever be "out", not really. There always were tons of Lucifers and Crowleys in the world to bring them back in. And they were, well Dean and Castiel, which was a significant issue on its own.
"Yes, you do."
But after all, the show must go on.
THE END
A.N: I don't even know if it's any good tbh, I wrote this piece in the dead of night, very tired and possibly tipsy... Anyway! Enjoy and let me know if you would like me to continue the series or not :)
(If I made spelling or grammar mistakes, please tell me, I don't always see them, English isn't my first language)