Title: "Thine is the Kingdom" tag to chapter two
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Dean, Sam, and Castiel belong to Mr. Kripcke and Co. at the CW. Sasha is Crimson1's beautiful creation and Michael is all SavingFaith333.
Pairing: Dean/Cas, Sam, Sasha
Author's Note: Please read this in context with SavingFaith's wonderful "Thine is the Kingdom" story, which is the fourth arc in her amazing Dean/Cas series
Castiel now thinks he just might understand that human expression "mental overload". Or "emotional overload" or simply "overload" in general. Looking at Dean unconscious on the ground next to the incubus, next to Sam.
Alive.
Only unconscious thanks to the demon…the incubus, with the pheromones wafting off of him in the direction of Dean.
The battle, all the death and blood and carnage surrounding them, Michael furious with him, Dean nearly dying. Again. Sam dying and coming back. Again. Castiel shouldn't be so calm. He knows it won't last and is fairly sure that it's some form of overload. But right now he welcomes it. The calm is letting him think more clearly, plan their next move. Dean needs to rest and preferably somewhere better than the bloody ground of this cemetery. Sam should rest too is a sluggish afterthought.
And what to do with this incubus? Castiel approaches them slowly, no extra energy for anything beyond an easy stroll, not even for words of gratitude, the epic thank you he knows is due for Dean's life.
The incubus…what was his name? Something Russian. Castiel's mind comes up with the name Sasha just as he reaches the group on the ground. The pheromones are stronger now, stronger close up and centered on Dean. Castiel glances at Sasha, too tired to say anything just yet, too calm and still to form the thought beyond getting the Winchesters to safety and rest.
The incubus looks nervous. Justifiable, Castiel thinks with an internal smirk. He is an angel after all while the incubus…Sasha…is a demon. A demon who saved Dean. Castiel glances down at Dean, taking in the dirt, blood, dried sweat and other grime accumulated during the battle. He long since stopped wondering how this man could be so beautiful, could make Castiel's heart, his vessel's heart, pound with a mere glance.
And while sleeping Dean looks young, pure, vulnerable. His expression makes Castiel want to hold onto him tighter, pull him into an embrace and shield him from everything, from the apocalypse, from the inevitable dark end they seemed to be hurtling towards.
So he understands why Sasha is drawn to Dean, would find him attractive, appealing.
But Castiel can feel the calm dispelling. The fear, the panic that Dean was nearly lost to him starts to rush back. He has to squelch the urge to grab Dean and disappear. He can't leave Sam. Dean would never forgive him that mistake. But he can't bear the thought of anyone else in his arms right now other than Dean. It makes him nervous, knowing how strong these feelings are, how strong his need for Dean is. Dean would have some smart-ass comment right now, something to alleviate the tension and the fear, cutting right to the black humor of the near death situation. Castiel smiles softly at that thought, rakes his hands through his hair, trying to clear his head so he can form a plan already.
He glances at the incubus, expecting him to still be watching Dean, what with those pheromones still coming off of him in waves. But Sasha is staring right at him, with eyes the same color as Castiel's own. He can see the boy's fear, his nervousness, his loyalty and dedication to the hunt, to destroying evil, can see that he has a good soul. A soldier's steadfast heart and a good, clean soul. And he is more than mildly interested in Dean. The incubus feels a connection, a weak one to be sure but still. A connection. Castiel blinks slowly then asks, "do you think you could give me a hand?"
Sasha readily agrees to helping with Sam and Castiel can finally take Dean in his arms and head for safety, for shelter and rest. With barely a pause, the incubus takes Sam awkwardly in his arms and flies next to Castiel, following his lead, their wings matching pace.
Dean is in his arms! Safe. Cradled. Castiel knows how unlikely this position would ever be if Dean were awake. Much too "chick flick" for him. It makes Castiel grip him all the tighter. His charge. His love. His Dean.
Once they reach the motel, he lays Dean down on the bed they still have never properly shared. That needs to be remedied once Dean is well and rested and...awake. For now, Castiel has to be content with caring for him, gently arranging him on the bed and carefully removing anything that might make Dean uncomfortable while sleeping. Like boots. And he is fully aware that all these steps are as much for him as they are for Dean, every soothing touch, every stroke and gesture as much to feel re-connected, to bring comfort to them both.
Smoothing his hands down Dean's calves to take off his boots eases Castiel's mind. The gesture, so familiar and intimate bringing back that sense of calm he'd had briefly in the cemetery. The last thing he can handle right now is thinking about everything. All of it. Dean nearly dying. Sam dead on the ground. Dean's heart in pieces, screaming, begging for Cas to please bring him back, yelling in Michael's face, demanding a miracle. No! He won't think about that now. Just about Dean, right here, alive, with that serene look on his face while he sleeps. The rest of the world doesn't need to matter for the moment.
Castiel feels the incubus shift next to him at the other bed as he places Sam down and it draws his attention for only a second. But it is enough. A surge of thought, of intent, of interest and Castiel knows exactly where Sasha is looking. And at whom.
Castiel blinks. Mine! Dean is mine!
This instinctual, desperate, raging need to blast the half-demon out of the room nearly erupts out of Castiel. Dean is his! He blinks again, quelling the urge, damping the cold fire that wanted to race out of him. This demon, this incubus is the reason he is still connected to Dean, still able to cradle him and touch him and… Sasha deserves a thank you. Despite the fact he is a demon, he is a good man. Despite the fact he is an incubus who feels a weird connection to his Dean, he did save him.
Castiel takes a deep breath and allows the words to come. "I want to thank you for what you did back there." It is harder to say than he expected. Sasha replies "no problem. My pleasure, really."
Pleasure. The word makes his stomach clench in a way that he can't begin to explain. It won't unclench and he is not sure what to do or say next. He glances from one person to the other and finds his fists clenching as well so he rams them into his coat pockets.
If not for this demon, both Sam and Dean would be dead right now. And so would Castiel. Because nothing, nothing would have mattered after that. He would have found the nearest horde of evil and picked a fight Dean-style until it finished him. The world would have been lost.
Huh.
Castiel finds himself speaking before he even knew there was more to say "if you had not come along when you did, she would have…Dean would have…" He can't finish the thought, the words. Can't even look at Dean while he says them, staring at his feet. His shoes are muddy.
Sasha is talking, saying something, words that don't matter. Nothing matters but that Dean is still here, still by Castiel's side. The magnitude of the day crashes over him and it is almost more than he can bear to look at the incubus. He has no more words. He feels like he's spinning, whirling with no center, no gravity, nothing to hold on to. Dean could be gone in a moment's notice. Nothing is certain; not heaven, not the war, not the host, and not even his connection with Dean.
Castiel is utterly lost.
Alone.
Is this what Dean feels?
The incubus is leaving. Castiel wants to be alone with Dean, needs it, but he knows he should acknowledge Sasha's departure. Should reassure him that all is well. "Thank you", he says again.
After the door shuts, he has no idea how long he sits on the floor between the beds, holding Dean's hand. His thoughts are whirling so much he feels dizzy. Eventually he notices how bloody he is, the smell making him slightly ill. A quick glance a Dean and he can see how grimy Dean's apparel is, all dried and stiff. He needs to fix this. They all need to be clean again. Castiel can't stand another minute in these filthy, blood-encrusted items of clothing. He starts tossing dirty clothes into a bag. Neither one of the Winchesters will be awake for some time so, with one last glance at Dean sleeping peacefully on the bed, Castiel heads out to do something. Something productive and uplifting. Something to cleanse them of the filth and blood and horror they've been living for weeks now.