Title: The deals we make
Characters/Pairings: Moriarty/Castiel (Castiarty), MorMor, Destiel, Sam, Sherlock, John, Lestrade, Gabriel, Balthazar.
Summary: Circumstances lead to Castiel making a deal with consulting demon, Jim Moriarty, to bind his grace to the madman for ten years of obedience. With Castiel's power Jim's new weapon (and the possibilities that come from having an angel on his leash) Moriarty is able to begin a plan that has been 200 years in the making...
A/N: After being introduced to the wonderful world of Supernatural we have decided to have a crack at all the lovely angsty possibilities the show provides. Sorry if it's messy, we were really excited about the idea and weren't paying much attention. I also apologise about the puppy thing; not sure where it came from but we love it.
Prologue
One of the many, unavoidable rules in the life of a Winchester was that there was always something.
One yellow-eyed demon, or as many as Hell could produce, Lucifer and the apocalypse, freaking angels, it was never the time for a vacation or any sort of break.
There was always something.
Despite Castiel's success in bringing free will to heaven (helped most likely by Joshua's message from the big man himself) and even the return of Gabriel who supported the younger angel when Raphael tried to silence his words, there was still doubt within the garrisons of Heaven, who decided to use their new found free will to punish the one who defied God's plan.
The renegades, tradionalists they called themselves, did their best to destroy the humans and the angel who rebelled for them. Castiel has killed his brothers, they said, meddled with Michael's destined battle and helped throw him into the pit, even going so far as to rescue Lucifer's vessel from the cage. He would have their wrath on his shoulders, they swore.
Castiel had little trouble dealing with the violent attacks from these groups. The Winchesters however, with no angel blade and limited holy oil, stood no chance when ambushed without their angel in sight.
The instant Dean's prayer reached his ears, guttural and cut off with a frightening abruptness, Castiel found himself greeted by the sight of a half-destroyed dark room with Sam being restrained by one angel as another approached him, hand outstretched ready to burn the human's insides and Dean's body, laid unmoving in the centre.
His rage turns out to be enough to wipe the well-trained soldiers from existence and save Sam's life, but too little to save his brother's.
Sam and he crouched over the body, Dean's body, the taller shaking with the unfairness that he had to hold his brother's torn corpse again, while the other didn't move at all, his vessel impossibly still. His true form roiled and raged and screamed.
Sam cried out his brother's name, Castiel stayed silent.
Sam turned to him for some sort of comfort, Castiel's eyes remained on Dean.
Same begged and demanded he heal his brother, Castiel's voice broke as he said he can't, the damage is beyond his capabilities, the soul has already departed.
Sam sobbed, Castiel left.
The ingredients needed to summon the demon were more than a little hard to come by. In his haze of grief and human-like adrenaline pumping through his vessel Castiel collected them within an hour.
With a liberal amount of his blood and Latin words filling the barn, the air around him cooled as he dragged the demon into the barn.
"Really? Most people pick nicer places to talk business." The demons eyes flashed red as an arrogant grin, his business face that unsettled clients into getting less than they could in an attempt to be free of its presence, settled on his lips. "Jim Moriarty, and what can I do for such a rebellious little angel of the Lord?"
Said angel hesitated in front of the so-called 'consulting demo', who considered himself higher than other crossroads demons by virtue of having the privilege of picking and choosing his clients. Castiel put on a stoic face, gazing at Moriarty with all the intensity of a dying star.
"You know me, you know what I want." The words were spoken with such conviction and dripping with brutal devotion for the human whose soul was in stasis.
A small smile curled on the demon's lips that might even have been innocent and sweet on a lesser man's face.
"Your little pet monkey, of course. People upstairs like you are so adorable, you'll do almost anything for the scum wandering the Earth." Moriarty's voice didn't waver from it's light playful tone, his eyes flickering between pure red to the more human dark brown surrounded by white. "But what would you do for yours? What can you give me?"
"Take me."
The offer was almost a command, spoken as a pre-meditated response full of certainty. This was the only type of offer Moriarty would be interested in, given that Castiel and the Winchester's predicament was so 'boring'.
"Oh, Castiel" The demon cooed. "I know better. Even if I found a way to have your grace on the rack, why would I? You Winchesters have a bad habit of not staying where you're supposed to." He paused in his tirade, likely for the dramatic effect he was so fond of. "Dean, Sam, even their old drunk have all sold their souls but escaped Hell anyway. No, little puppy, I'm not letting you slip through my fingers."
"What do you mean?" The angel asked, far less sure than he had first been, especially with the shorter demon suddenly crowded into his space. (Was this how Dean had felt when Castiel was in his 'personal space'? Had he given Dean that sick feeling in his spine by the invasion?)
"I'm sure you've heard of the process of binding, haven't you?" The demon asked, innocently, as though he were asking what time it was. He caught the horror that flashed across the celestial being' face before it was barely swallowed down again. Castiel didn't say anything, finding any protests would just bring the predatory smirk to Moriarty's face again or worse: Make him call the deal off.
The image of Dean's dead body, Sam likely still cradling it, was still at the forefront of his mind and quashed any inclinations he had about disagreeing with the consulting demon.
"No, I'll have you by the leash so you can't run away, puppy." Moriarty continued, relishing how the angel paled at the idea. But he would still do it. These angels, especially this one, were very predictable. "So, shall we do it, or arrange an appointment at a later date?" The demon clapped his hands together in joy, bony fingers intertwining as he brought the necessary power to his fingertips in anticipation.
"Now. I need it to be done." The angel's voice rang with all the celestial authority that would make any human quake and bow but from Moriarty all it garnered was a grin full of malice and an outstretched hand.
"I have to wonder about you eagerness little puppy. Worried Heaven will realise they have their righteous man won't give him up so easily?" He cooed, hand hovering just over Jimmy's heart, still and useless to the angel. "We should go through the terms and conditions first, yes? I'm an honest business man, Castiel; I have to make sure you know what you're getting in for."
The frustration and desperation brimming under his borrowed skin to the point of exhaustion churned.
"The contract lasts ten years. You'll retain your vessel and be unable to leave it. You may only use your grace if I want to play with it. And above all, I have your total obedience."
"Why not just take it, my grace?" The angel questioned, becoming more and unsure around the tricky demon.
"Hell is messy, and greedy, puppy. Why waste my profits in the pit when I can get an angel all to myself?"
"I get to see the boys, answer their prayers for help." He feebly demanded, hands clenched into fists and slightly leaning away from the demon.
"Sorry! No dice."
Castiel opened his mouth to protest only to be overruled.
"This isn't a negotiation. You need this deal more than I want it, even if I give you nothing but your master dragged from Heaven." He paused, willing a chair into existence behind Castiel and pushing down onto it with ease, relishing in the new height advantage before continuing with his sermon. "Interesting, isn't it? Tired, little Dean-o finally gets some peace, went out with a bang like he always wanted and is sitting pretty and blissful and brainless in Heaven. But you, you want him back here, fighting on with all his angst and self-hatred and oh my he never stops whining does he? " The demon leaned closer and closer with each word, pinning the almighty angel between his arms, smiling a sickly grin. "And whatever for?"
Castiel swallowed, gasping for unneeded air in a room that suddenly seemed spare of it.
"Sam- Sam needs him. He still has work on earth, he would want to-"
"No, Cas," Moriarty hummed, enjoying the stolen nickname in his mouth. "You need him, you want him back, you are too selfish and desperate to let him die."
And now the demon seemed to overflow his meat suit, towering over the angel who suddenly felt confined and small within his. It seemed clear to both beings how this was going to end when Moriarty reached out and touched Castiel's hair.
"I'm not all bad, Cassie, I can even be fair when occasion calls for it. You get one extra condition, and you better be thankful for it."
The hand travelled down from Castiel's hair, stroking his cheek before tipping up his chin, all with the utmost care and gentleness.
"You can't go trailing after your masters like the pathetic puppy you've been imitating these past years, but if old Dean-o managed to find time and chat with you, I'll allow it. But you can't seek him out."
Castiel's eyes remained downcast, far too aware of his disadvantage with the demon. But the offer seemed generous, never seeing Dean again and living with Sam's blame and guilt, or his charge finish his work, it was only ten years. Barely a blink of an eye to an angel and he could still talk tp his charge, let himself be grounded by Dean where Moriarty might corrupt.
In the end, it was an easy decision.
"Do it." He growled out, eliciting yet another smirk from Moriarty as the demon leaned down towards Castiel, pulling him into a harsh kiss.
It's best to set an example to them early whilst house training, isn't it?
Thought he couldn't bare it, Sam had to bur his brother again.
And this time he'd do it quickly. No crossroad deals, no waiting for an angel to help, no supernatural interference. He should be numb to the feeling of dragging a heavy, cold body outside but it never got easier. He'd cleared out half a grave when a gasp came from behind him.
He should have known.
"Dean!" He shouted out, by his brothers side in an instant.
"What'd you do Sammy?" Dean demanded, scrabbling at Sam's arms.
"I swear, it wasn't me, I didn't do it." He said, gesturing to the mound of dirt behind him.
"Sam," Dean said slowly, like his voice might break any moment, "Where's Cas?"