AN: Yeah, so this is definitely not your typical Destiel fic. Just keep that in mind. The idea came to me on a whim, so I'm going to go through with it, cause the last story I did (and am still doing) on a whim turned out more awesome than I expected. Only with this one, I already have a vague plot in mind that will be unraveling slowly, so if you stick with this story past this chapter, I promise you your mind will be blown ;)

Unfortunately, I don't own Supernatural or the characters (though GOD I wish I did). All that is mine is the original story and the original characters. Regardless of this, I hope you enjoy!

Things had changed in 300 years, not that Dean knew what they were like so many years ago. Apparently, humans had run the show back then, but then the war happened. The Apocalypse. Many people died, almost all, and America had been crippled. It broke up into smaller countries; at the same time, the supernatural marked the weakness in humanity, and came out of hiding. The Devil ran the show, and under him evil thrived. Now, each state country was ruled by the supernatural. Dean couldn't say how the rest of the world was fairing, because America didn't have any explicit contact with other countries anymore, not through human affairs, anyway.

It may have been the future, but many places had been chucked back in time from the depression. Dean lived as paupers used to, while the supernatural rolled around in blood and gold. Dean grew up in an orphanage; he never knew his real family, or his last name. He didn't mind it though, his sad story or his living conditions, because he was still free to do as he pleased, unlike so many others. A clan of fairies known as the Madeline family ruled their country state. For the most part, the Fae kept to themselves and let their human cattle roam free. Only every fifty years did they take the newly born first born sons for payment. Dean had luckily missed that year.

Unfortunately, not all supernatural clans got along; most of them fought, actually. There were petty territory wars, or xenophobic battles. Some managed to remain civil, trading goods and humans to keep treaties honorable. The Madelines had an agreement with the vampires, whom were aligned against the werewolves and the shape-shifters. Demons sided with no one, running rampant against anyone with their lessers, the Croats, while witches stayed away from any affairs of others, having their own separate cult. It was tiring, and Dean had no patience for it, so he chose to remain as oblivious as possible to it.

That changed on his 26th birthday when his village caught an illness. Many were dead within the week, despite their begging for the Fae lords to help them. The pleas were unheard, and it was only another 6 months before local businesses began to plummet into shambles, including Dean's own. He fed much of the population through hunting, as well as the Madeline family, but with no population to feed, his services became obsolete. The Fae had other means of food, so when the results began to dwindle, the Madeline family took a different approach.

"You can't do this!" Dean shouted at them. The fairies weren't impressed, nor were they surprised by the man's outburst. His temperament was well known, and promptly ignored, to Dean's unmarked relief. Many supernatural families would do worse punishment for less, so he really lucked out on his rulers. Or had, until today.

"We can, and we will, Dean. As you are not bringing in enough revenue, we will profit on you another way," the king said smoothly, his fair features undisturbed by time or emotion.

"But you can't sell me to them," Dean whined, protests feeble and losing their heat, because he knew nothing he could say would change their mind. "No! I won't let you!" Dean snapped, causing the rulers to stare at him in annoyance. Dean knew he was pushing his luck with anger, so he tried a different approach. He stepped forward, before sinking to his knees before them. "Please, don't do this to me," he begged, though he glared up at them with determination and without fear.

"I am sorry, Dean. The deal had already been made. The caravan leaves in an hour; make your peace and gather your belongings," he said, waving his hand to the human. Dean rose, and bowed his head, knowing there was nothing he could do, and nothing left to be said.

"Thank you," he said somberly, before he turned and left. Despite the bitter taste in his mouth, he was grateful he had been under the Madelines' rule for so long. But now, everything was going to change. Dean fought back a grimace as his throat tightened, knowing he had it good here, but was no longer a part of this system. He shook the thoughts away quickly as he hopped onto his horse tied up outside the Madeline Mansion.

He was quiet when they reached his humble little shack. It was old and run down, but homey and perfect for his bare living style. Everyone in their community shared, bartering for goods and services, and never holding a grudge. They did as they pleased, which was more than could be said for other country states. It was hard to think this was going to change for Dean, and a deep sadness had overtaken him. Dean nearly choked on his breath when he realized this was likely the last time he would be here. He tied his horse up on a fence outside, and pat his trusty steed a few times on it's thick neck before he disappeared inside.

He skimmed his fingers over his room with reverent nostalgia, remembering all the books he had read on his soft bed. The girl he lost his virginity to at the age of 16, (he had learned to be useful quickly and left the orphanage at 13, making himself his own home and means of work). He swallowed heavily, before he packed up what meager belongings he had. The clothes he owned, his favorite pocketknife, and two of his favorite books. For a moment, he reached up and twirled the golden amulet hanging around his neck as he scanned the room one more time. He remembered the day he found it, buried in the dirt and long forgotten. For some reason, it had moved him at first sight, so he polished it clean and never took it off.

The goodbye was bittersweet, but he couldn't bear to be there any longer. He shouldered his pack, and hopped on his horse to make his last ride to the mansion.

His horse was taken from him when he reached the Madeline Mansion again, another "donation" of his services. There were thirty humans altogether, waiting to take their place on the caravan that was heading up toward South Dakota. The driver ushered all the humans into the caravan, before taking his place at the helm. It was a small three car train, operated by old steam engines left behind after the war destroyed most new age technology. New tracks had been created since that time, connecting the new country states together; many were broken during battles, but between allies, they were kept pristine.

It only took a day to reach their destination, and Dean felt dread wash through him when it was announced they'd be at Angel Fall within the hour. He had been sold to the vampires, a family known as the Angels that ruled a large portion of the northwestern part of the country. Dean hadn't heard much about them, but the family was brutal to their enemies, and certainly didn't allow their humans the freedoms the Fae put up with. He closed his eyes, and tried not to think about his new label the best he could…until the train finally came to a screechy stop.

They were ushered off in a slow, orderly fashion, and Dean teetered from foot to foot as he waddled toward the establishment. It was enormous, and lavish in a way the Madeline Mansion was not. Where his old rulers had majesty and elegance, this place had grace and malice. An old style castle had been built for the Angels, but with more modern features in the windows and structure. It was ominous in the dark, all sheen and black rock with sharp towers that looked like the edges of a foreboding crown, reaching into the sky high enough that Dean's neck hurt from craning it back so far. A beat of fear rattled his heart as he drew closer to the enormous oak doors that were held open for them by winged beasts that looked like bats. Dean only knew how to refer to them as gargoyles.

The light that passed over them when they entered was surprisingly blinding; by the outside, he would have assumed cold steel and grey lights, but it was quite the opposite. The light surrounding them was warm and golden, reflecting off the similarly colored walls that were decorated with deep colors of red, green, and blue. There was blush carpet beneath them, and breathtaking chandeliers above them, and this was only the opening parlor! Dean found himself in awe, gulping at the impressive majesty of the place.

They were led into a throne room, and the driver urged them to file into a single horizontal line through gruff curses and muttered annoyances. It almost made Dean smirk, because the man's grisly attitude reminded him of himself, were he fifty years older and less sarcastic. When they were all settled, the man left them without any instruction. The wait was agonizing, and many people grew restless enough to start chattering amongst themselves in hushed tones. Dean took the time to look at the faces surrounding him.

Many, he didn't recognize, which meant they likely weren't from his village. The Madelines ruled four of the old states surrounding Kansas, more to the south of the Angels' territory. Only three, did he recognize. The Viola sisters, two bitches he'd tangled with a long time ago, and to this day, still regretted. And Kevin Tran, an awkward teenager whom he instantly felt bad for, being stripped from a home that couldn't afford to put dinner on the table, let alone pay their lords any taxes.

It was just after he took in these faces that iron doors to their left swung open with a frightening moan. Silence fell over them heavier than humid summer heat, and the human faces turned to look at those who walked through. No one could blame them for being curious; they had never seen any vampires before. The first to walk through was a tall man with short blonde hair and mischievous eyes, with an equally cocky smirk. The clothes he wore matched his attitude, spiffy, expensive, and sleek. Behind him was another male with black skin, a little taller in stature, and a bit broader too. He was dressed in a less offensive suit, but his scowling face was far more sinister.

Following after were two girls walking hand in hand, both relatively the same height but one with dark brown hair, the other light blonde curls. They were grinning to each other, giggling over a shared joke as their brown eyes sparked with bemusement. Both wore matching styled gowns, though one was in white while the other a colorful salmon. Two more males followed just behind them, one shorter than all the rest, with chocolate hair and a lollipop stick sticking out his mouth. He had hazel eyes, and casual clothes on that suggested he'd just rolled out of bed.

And finally, another male with black hair more unruly than any bed hair Dean had ever seen. He, too, looked like he had just rolled out of bed, the longer locks sticking up haphazardly in a way that reminded Dean of a romp in the sack. His eyes were ice blue in this bright light, and too piercing for any gaze to linger on. Pale skin and taut muscles were hidden beneath black slacks and an opened white button down shirt. They were rolled up at the sleeves, and the white T-shirt he wore underneath was poking out from the opened top of the dress shirt. He was shorted than the first two, and skinnier than them too, but something about this one screamed more power than his form confessed.

Once the family lined up on the stairs, they stopped and faced their new humans. For a moment, all was silent, before the first one stepped forward with a charming smile on his face. "Welcome to Angel Fall. This will be your new home, as I gather you have all come to terms with. You have been sold to us, for us to do with as we so choose, so please, make it easy on all of us, and do as you are told. Unlike your previous owners, we are not so lenient in our affairs," he spoke, voice soft, almost kind, but hinting toward a shorter fuse than he let on. It was interesting to note he had a rowdy accent, but from where, Dean could not tell.

"Now then, with that out of the way, let me introduce my family. I am Balthazar, and these are my siblings, Raphael, Naomi, Hester, Gabriel, and Castiel," the vampire read off, pointing from one sibling to the next from who stood the closest to him, to the last. Smiling brightly at his family, Balthazar slowly turned around to glare heavily at the humans. Some took the hint and lowered their eyes, while others still stared, blinking in awe, confusion, or fear. Balthazar smiled a little wider, before he took a grandiose step backward and twisted around to hold his hand out for his sisters. Ever the gentleman, he guided them down to take first pick, to Raphael's utter annoyance.

The woman walked down, hand in hand, before they parted at the line of slaves. Dean watched curiously as the smaller one named Hester picked out four females, including one of the Viola sisters. She tapped each on the shoulder, before bidding them to follow her, and the posse disappeared out the door the vampires had entered through. Naomi picked out three men, before her eyes landed on Dean. He felt heat push into his cheeks as her eyes flickered up and down his body, her eyes pensive as if she were heavily considering taking him. But at the last moment, she changed her mind and chose a female instead. Dean puffed out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding when that scrutinizing stare had left him.

Balthazar came down next, and to his horror, Dean was the first he picked. His heart hammered in his chest as he stepped out of line, waiting awkwardly as Balthazar also picked out four more humans. When the vampire walked off, Dean followed the new harem, looking from side to side as he passed by.

The last thing he saw before he left the foyer was a pair of fierce blue eyes burning into his skull. Balthazar led them through the corridors for what seemed like ages to Dean, before they finally reached their destination. It was a wing of the castle that Dean quickly realized belonged solely to Balthazar. 'Do all the Angels have their own wings,' he wondered curiously as Balthazar stopped to face them.

"The five of you will be joining the rest of my slaves in a moment, but I wanted to go over your purpose in this household. Some of you will become a part of my blood bank, which as I can assume you gather, is my food supply. Others will be put to work tending to my needs, such as maintaining my wing of the castle, preparing my meals, and tending my affairs. Your specific duties will be assigned by my personal assistant. If you will file into this room here, he will sort through you all and assign you your appropriate duties," Balthazar explained, before he held an arm out to gesture the humans toward a door. They all filed in just after the said assistant walked out.

"Balthazar," a rough voice suddenly cut through the hallway, causing Balthazar to turn away from his assistant before he could even get a word out. A sleazy smile graced his lips as he watched Castiel approach him.

"Ah, little brother, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he cooed, clapping his hands together quietly in a joyous way. They both already knew what Castiel wanted.

"Give him to me," was all Castiel said in response. It wasn't a request; it was a harsh demand. Balthazar's smile turned sly in response.

"You know they all saw him, don't you? I'd be willing to bet they all recognized him, too. Naomi was seconds away from taking him, didn't you see?" he taunted, and his eyes were unreadable when the flash of woe slipped through Castiel's gaze.

"Please," Castiel practically begged, his harsh voice going uncharacteristically soft. "I'll do anything."

"I know," Balthazar said, before his hands let go of one another to clasp onto Castiel's shoulders. He smiled wider, and leaned into his brother's ear to whisper, "why do you think I scooped him up for you before Raphael or Gabriel could get the jump on him?" He leaned away from his brother and crossed his arms, bringing a single hand up to stroke his chin thoughtfully as he smirked. Castiel looked like a wounded puppy, if he'd ever seen one, and it was absolutely adorable in how pathetic it was.

"I'll give him to you," he finally said, because after all, the two of them were very old friends. Castiel's eyes rose with a lively glint, hope bleeding through his stoic face, and Balthazar held out a finger to silence him. "Just remember you owe me. I'll have my assistant bring him to your room, if that will be all?" Castiel nodded to his brother in response, and Balthazar waved him away with a flick of his hand.

The slaves turned their heads when the door opened and their master's head poked through. "Dean?" he called, and the man in question immediately perked up. His brows furrowed in severe confusions as he straightened up and stood. 'When the Hell did he get my name?' Dean thought as Balthazar smirked devilishly. It wasn't so farfetched to think there had been a roster of names given with the slaves, but that didn't explain how the vampire had put his face to his name.

"Well I'll be damned," Balthazar mused, before he waved his hand for Dean to approach. Cautiously, Dean did as he was told and followed to the beckon until he was out the door again, standing in the hallway. To his surprise, Balthazar clapped a hand against his back, and said, "Welcome back."

"Excuse me?" Dean said, voice full of bewilderment and agitation, but Balthazar only smiled lazily at him and shoved him forward. With a grunt, he stumbled into the stabilizing hand of the assistant, whom immediately veered him down the hall. "What's happening?" Dean snapped at the shorter bald man.

"Be quiet, and lose the attitude," the man hissed, not letting go of Dean as they stormed through the hallways. "Castiel is temperamental, and you don't want to get on his bad side."

"Castiel? But I thought-"

"You've been traded." A lump formed in Dean's throat at the words. 'You've been traded.' Suddenly, those burning blue eyes came back to his mind. His stomach twisted into knots, and he couldn't quite understand why. Why?! Why had he been traded? It was bad enough that he had been sold in the first place, but now he was being swapped through his masters?! He wasn't a fucking piece of meat!

But all too quickly, they had veered into another wing, and Dean was herded to the very end of the hall, before a door was opened and he was shoved in. The other man didn't even enter with him; he simply slammed the door shut, leaving Dean to stumble for his balance. When he finally managed to pull himself upright, the other lone occupant of the room twisted around to face him. Tension was thick in the air, stifling enough to make all of Dean's muscles seize. The look the other was giving him was surreal; more intense than any other he had ever seen, as if Castiel could easily pierce through his soul with the color of his eye.

"Son of a bitch," Castiel whispered in awe. Feeling highly uncomfortable at the reverent way the other was looking at him, Dean bit his bottom lip and fidgeted slightly where he stood.

"Hey, that's my line," he quipped, desperate for a way to break the tension. To his surprise, his new master laughed, but it was bitter and broken in surprised disbelief. The smile that accompanied it looked to be a mix of happiness and sorrow, which confused Dean to no end. With a start, Dean jerked back when Castiel was suddenly standing in front of him, breaching his personal space like he owned it (which Dean guessed, he actually did). The human fell into the wall, but Castiel pressed forward to keep the distant constant, which was only a few inches of space.

"Dean?"

"What?"

"It's you. I can't believe it's really you," Castiel whispered again, and before Dean knew it, the space between them was closed. Castiel pressed forward, hands gripping to Dean's face, and his lips crashed into Dean's with more fervor than Dean had ever experienced. A startled noise left him, body tensing even more as he froze in the vampire's grasp. Finally, his brain caught up and his hands came up to plant against Castiel's chest, but the first shove did nothing to relieve the pressure on his face. The smaller man really was strong, and Dean grunted in frustration when he tried again. This time, he used the wall as leverage, and managed to shove Castiel off of him using all of his mite.

"What the fuck?!" Dean spat, wiping his mouth of the heated kiss. He could swear Castiel looked hurt, but the moment passed so quickly, he very well may have imagined it. "You don't just go around kissing dudes," he snapped, and instantly, Castiel turned vicious. Before Dean could react, the vampire's leg snaked around his own and brutally kicked his knee out. It forced Dean to his knees at the same moment that Castiel's unforgiving hand came to grasp around the side of Dean's neck with a vicious grip, fingers digging into Dean's jugular painfully. It made the human wince heavily, and instantly go from angry to afraid.

"You forget, Dean. You're my slave. I can do with you as I please, and the years have made me cruel," the Angel snarled. His head tilted slightly as he watched Dean try not to whine at the pressure, and a sick satisfaction came to him at the thought of the bruises that would be visible in due time. That's when Castiel's eyes flickered lower on Dean, and he caught a glimpse of the necklace hanging around Dean's neck. The pressure from his other hand stalled as his free one came up to curl a few fingers around the unique golden charm.

"Where did you get this?" Castiel asked quietly, and Dean opened his eyes. Once again, he was surprised to see the turmoil swelling into those fierce blue orbs.

"I found it," he breathed, voice slightly hoarse from the pain coating his throat. Castiel released him, at the same time that he yanked Dean's necklace off.

After coughing a moment, Dean glowered up at his master and shouted an outraged, "Hey!" Castiel ignored him, turning away from his new pet as he stared at the amulet, running a thumb over the smooth gold. The vampire didn't know whether to break down and cry, throw a rage fit, laugh to the heavens, or do a combination of all three. 'The universe is so very cruel, he thought, 'Father, why do you do this to me?'

Was it a sign? Or was it just another curse? Slowly, he turned back around to face Dean. Smartly, the human was still kneeling where he had been left, heaving for air in anger and pain as he glared at Castiel with hate in his eyes. It was a cruel joke to have him like this now, but Castiel didn't have much of a heart left to care. Or so he thought.

"You don't remember anything?" Castiel asked somberly. Dean's brows furrowed in suspicion, and with a huff, he dared to push himself up from the floor. Castiel didn't seem to mind, so Dean stood to his full height, fists clenched at his sides.

"Remember what?" he snapped gruffly. Castiel considered him for a long moment, before his eyes dropped down to the necklace he was still stroking between his fingertips. He grew tired of it then, and curled the necklace up, before he dropped it onto the black end table next to his king-sized beg. His stomach was gurgling, begging to be fed, and he wanted nothing more than to taste what he had yearned for, for so many years.

Dean felt the atmosphere in the room shift again as Castiel slowly moved around the edge of his dark-blue sheeted bed. He suddenly felt like a lamb caught by a wolf, and instinctually, he sidestepped a few times. A glint sparked in Castiel's eyes, a predatory one that sent a chill straight through Dean's spine. Within moments, Castiel lunged and Dean lurched away from him, trying to get away in the absurdly spacious room. But Castiel was too quick, and snapped an arm around one of Dean's shoulders. His fingers curled around the front of Dean's neck, pressing into the man's clavicle bones. With his other hand, he gripped around Dean's hip, and ran both of them into the bed.

With a gasp and a grunt, Dean found himself pinned against the bed face down, torso glued to it while his feet still remained planted on the floor. Heat rose to his cheeks at the embarrassing position, and only brightened at the feral groan that left his master's lips. Though he tried to struggle free, the weight above him was too strong as Castiel shifted his hold. The hand against Dean's hip slid up and under the human, pressing into his stomach as the other curled around his shoulder. Dean fought not to shiver as he felt fingers card into his hair, massaging his scalp in a too tender way for what was happening to him.

But all of a sudden, that gentle grip turned harsh, and Dean couldn't hold back the yowl as his hair was fisted brutally in the other's hand, before he felt it yank upward. Combined with the gentle push into his stomach, Dean was forced to arch his back backward and expose his neck as his head was pulled to the side. He couldn't see, but Castiel's second set of teeth had descended, razor sharp, jagged rows of fangs aching for his flesh.

In a snapping motion, Castiel thrust his face down and sunk his teeth into Dean's pulsing neck. His body curved gently over Dean, poised like a stretching cat as it shuddered slightly when sweet, sweet blood pooled into his mouth. His eyes rolled into the back of his head at how delicious Dean tasted, and he paid no mind to the sharp scream of the other man as he drank his greedy fill. Dean's cry quickly died down to a softer mewling as Castiel slowed his intake. Indulgently, Castiel let his hand trail across Dean's flat stomach, teasing the muscles beneath his thin shirt. The whimper the man let out in response made Castiel's groin twitch with anticipation, but his fingers stopped their roaming when he felt Dean couldn't take anymore loss.

His fangs retracted, a breath heaving from him as he took a moment to savor the final drops. A growl left him as he looked down at his slave; Dean was trying to twist his face the best he could, eyes clamped shut in fear and disgust at what was happening to him. It made Castiel's growl deepen as his eyes flashed white, and he leaned into Dean's neck once again to lap up the remnants of Dean's blood with a sinful tongue. He felt Dean squirm in his firm grip, perturbed by the feeling of Castiel's wet tongue gliding over his raw skin. When the wounded flesh was fully cleaned, Castiel stopped and released Dean, letting the human ungracefully sink back onto the bed, spent of his energy.

Castiel licked his lips clean as Dean sunk to his knees, and his eyes lingered on the sight of Dean kneeling over his bed for a moment, before he left to enter his bathroom. When he came back, he was carrying a small kit with him, and Dean still hadn't moved. His eyes were closed, as if he were trying to pretend he was anywhere but here. That sent a painful throb through Castiel's heart, but he ignored it as he looked down at the kit and opened it. He pulled out a thick piece of gauze, and pressed it to Dean's wound, before he taped it down with some surgical tape. Once he placed the kit down on an identical end table at this side of the bed, Castiel wrapped his strong arms around Dean's weakened body and lifted him up with ease.

A gentleness he had not had before came forth as he placed Dean to lie comfortably on the bed, and he slowly slipped his arms away from Dean as if he were afraid to let go. Dean didn't protest or complain this time, for he was too weak to put up a fight. His brain had grown dizzy, then foggy with how much blood had been taken from him, and all he wanted to do now was sleep. His breathing was already heavy, heart pumping thickly to keep what was left in him going strongly through his system.

"I hate you," Dean whispered weakly before he fell unconscious, and Castiel felt his nonexistent heart break. 'I'm sorry Dean,' he thought bleakly, 'But you did this to me first.'

AN: Confused? Good. You should be. If anyone can guess what might be going on in this fic already, I'll give you 1000 points and a chapter dedicated to you. Otherwise, buckle up because the meaning behind all the confusing foreshadowing in this first chapter will come to light soon enough. And if any of you are reading Wall of Passion by any chance, don't worry I'm still working on it. I just really wanted to work on this too! SO, please review if you can. It would make my day and help me improve on certain things. Thanks! Toodles for now :D