-Chapter One-
I knew that this really wasn't a totally fool proof plan, and I knew we should've had another back-up plan. You know, just in case. We didn't know all that much about Eve, what she could do. But what else were we supposed to do? What other choice did we have now? We had no other option. So, we just marched into the diner to kill Eve with Bobby and Cass out front waiting as the official 'Back-up Plan'. Sam and I sat in the seats right next to the cash register, every other booth or seat was filled. Glancing out the dark window, I grabbed my cell phone from my pocket and turn on the camera -acting as if looking for a reception. Everyone in the caf was a Jefferson-Starship. This wasn't good. Not good at all.
I whisper over to Sam, "Not good. They're all Jefferson-Starships "
That's when I heard someone say, "Hello Dean...Sam!"
Oh shit I thought, then I said, "Eve?"
"What can I do for you, Dean?" Eve said; looking strangely glad to see the both of us as she stood at the cash register.
"We were looking for you, actually." I retorted with a grin.
"Really? That's surprising." She replied with a grin of her own, "I was looking for you too, Dean."
"Now that's what's interesting here." I replied.
"Oh, not really." She answered, "When you kill and torture someone's children -especially my children. I personally come to get rid of the problem myself personally."
"We haven't tortured any of your children." Sam interjected, "We believe that its Crowley."
"Don't lie to me, Sam. Crowley is dead."
"No, we don't think so. We've been torturing demons into telling us information about him, Eve." I replied, "We wouldn't lie to you about something this important."
"Are you so sure, Dean?" Eve said; then she turning to one of her 'Children', "Bring them in." And that was when the Jefferson-Starships bring in our only back up: Cass and Bobby.
This isn't good, I thought.
"Dean-" Cass started to say, but Eve raised a hand to silence him. It worked, he was silent.
"Don't start." She said giving him a pointed glare, "I only want to talk to Dean right now."
"I just told you that we haven't tortured any of your children. When they charge at us, it's only self-defense." I told her; I was really getting ready to gank her ass right about now.
"I can't have that now, can I?" Eve said pointedly, "But I have an offer to make you, Dean."
"What would that be?" I retorted.
"You find Crowley and you give him to me. Nothing more, nothing less. I'll let you live your short life peacefully." Eve offered me.
"Well, I'm not sure if I can make that kind of a deal, Eve." I said, giving Sam a side-glance.
"Then I could just change you, and then you'll do it anyway." She said with a wide grin.
"Well, you'll just have to bite me. Cause I won't do it." Then Eve quickly grabbed hold of me and bit into my neck, for certain that she was about to turn me into one of those grotesque Vampire-Wraith hybrids. Hearing a voice say in my mind, Stop Look closer deeper I felt her hesitate, her teeth still sheathed into my neck. She was debating. Then I knew Eve wasn't about to make me into a blood sucking, dopamine-craving monster. I was different, I felt it in my blood. Then she allowed a different kind of poison spread through my veins, the word 'perfect' came to mind sending a fear-filled shiver running down my spine. I lost track of the time. Not sure how long we stood like that, Eve's fang secure in my neck. Seconds? Years? The next thing I know, she's cupping my face with both of her hands. Her hold seemed to be the only thing that was keeping me upright; she leaned in and pressed her forehead to mine.
"I was just going to make you into a Rugaru," She said, her voice was kind, her eyes awed and lit up with what he could only called love. But, I could feel that she was also surprised. "But something made me read you, Dean. I looked into your heart -your soul What I made you, it is simply what you are meant to be. Fate. This was supposed to be a punishment -an example. But " She bites her bloodied lip, "I've been alone in this world for far too long. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is being the only All-mother?" She pressed her lips in a chaste kiss to my cheek, and my body hummed with excitement.
"Dean!" Sam sounds anxious, I noted, worried. But really, I thought, Eve is here. What's there to worry about? My head was fogged up by the sweet honey smell of my Maker, made my body weak. Eve slowly guided me to my knees, and then gently onto the floor laying me on my side, cushioning my head in her lap.
"Quiet Sam," Eve says flatly. I heard Sam about to protest, but all that came out was muffled. I realized that one of the Jefferson's must have covered Sam's mouth with something, possibly their hand. Eve ran her fingers through my hair, and in the back of my mind I realized that I should be struggling, should be kicking and biting and screaming on the top of my lungs; but all I can bring myself to do is soak in the gentle, loving touches and calming quiet Eve offered me. "Your brother's special Sam, did you know that?" She said giving me a gentle smile. I blinked sluggishly, I wanted to believe that she was wrong, because Sam's always been the special one. Been the smartest, strongest and -Hell, he's the one who had the freaky mind powers. But instinct told me she was right. Though, for the life of me, I don't understand how.
"What do you mean? What have you done to Dean?" The voice is a low growl, Castiel. Sam must have a hand over his mouth still.
"What have I done?" Eve asked, her voice was mocking. "Please. I barely got a chance to change him before I saw his potential. Like I said, I was just going to make him into a Rugaru. But I made him fertile. I can't believe that I almost could have missed it! I could just blame that on all of those blinding, horrible emotions a mother feels when her children are being locked away and being tortured."
"You couldn't have It's impossible " Cass interjected.
"It is impossible for a normal human being, but you and I both know that Dean is, definitely, far from normal," Eve said, interrupting the slightly panicking Angel. "He is the vessel for the archangel, Michael; that automatically makes him abnormal. Then to add to it: his personality, his soul He's a loving human, isn't he? He threw himself to the pit just to protect his baby brother. Nearly killed himself a thousand times over trying to save the people he cares about. Puts everyone's lives in front of his own. So you tell me, little Angel...that it's hardly impossible. More like meant to be."
"What's going on, Cass? What did she do to him?" Sam said. I could only assume that the Jefferson-Starship removed their hand, or maybe Sam removed it himself. That would be Sam, wouldn't it?
"Everything will be okay, Dean. This really was meant to be." Then Eve laid my head carefully on the tiled floor. She rose to her feet, signaled her other children to follow, and left. Cass, Sam and Bobby were on me in only a second. They all were very worried.
"Dean, are you alright?" Sam turned me over from my side to my back, cupping my face just as Eve had done seconds ago, though perhaps more forcefully. "Come on man, say something."
But it wasn't even a second when Eve made it a fair distance from the small diner, that I realized that I was in excruciating pain. My arms grabbed blindly, my vision went blurry, my back arched off the dirty floor. I started screaming in terrible agony, as if there were a thousand nails in my veins, and a deep fire was lit from deep within my belly. My head felt as if it were being bashed in repeatedly, and a wave of heat washed all over me -it was smothering, making me feel claustrophobic.
Over all my pain I could just make out Sam's panicked voice over my own cries say, "What's happening to him? What did Eve do?"
"She's- She's turned him "

I dug my finger's into my thigh as I tried to ignore Dean's erratic cries and distressing groans. It wasn't like Dean to show outward affliction of any kind, he always tried to hide it from everyone -even himself. And that's what truly scared me. Whatever was going on with Dean was painful enough to make him scream. Bobby drove the Impala, leaving me nothing to concentrate on other than Dean's almost inhuman cries of pain. I've done all that I could do for Dean. I poured holy water on the bite on his neck and patched it up. But I still wished that there was more that I could do.
Suddenly the screams were cut short, replaced by a high pitched keening noise instead. Looking back from the passenger seat to look into the back, I saw Castiel using inhuman strength to pin Dean's upper body and arms in an almost backwards bear hug. He's whispering something low, like a prayer, into Dean's ear. Whatever it was, it seemed to have some sort of calming effect on Dean all the same.
As Castiel continued to deeply pray into Dean's ear, I heard Dean's loud, cacophony noises shrink until they slowly became pained whispers and moans. Dean's body -though still as tense as a piano cord- stilled. His legs settled in an awkward tangled position, but at least they weren't kicking at the door anymore. I was really surprised at the fact that Dean hadn't broke the window.
Then I watched as Castiel loosened his hold on Dean, and moved until Dean's head gently rested onto his chest -just below his chin. Castiel was soothingly cradling Dean in his arms, and I hoped that I would get the chance to poke and prod him later for it. But, I hoped that I'll be able to speak to my big brother again period.
"Te diligo, Dean. Amen." I heard Castiel say over Dean's constant whimpers; I barely caught it in time to translate: I love you, Dean. Amen. Is that what I really just heard him say? Castiel ran a soothing hand down Dean's side. The impala was silent, except Dean's whimpers, the rest of the way to Bobby's.
x x x

We finally reached Bobby's place, Castiel had jumped to carry Dean to one of the spare rooms. When we got there, he laid Dean's mercifully unconscious body on the rickety old bed.
"What are we supposed to do now?" I asked Castiel desperately, gripping the edge of the bed.
"I don't know, Sam " Castiel replied, sounding lost, "No one has ever encountered this before "
That can't be true, because that would mean he wouldn't know how to fix it and I couldn't accept that. That wouldn't be fair. The universe can't dump another problem on our dwindling group if there wasn't another way.
"I will go to do some research. I won't be gone long, Sam, Bobby." Castiel said, then he completely disappeared. Leaving us alone to find a cure for my brother.
We went downstairs to pour over book after book for hours. Bobby and I both went through all of their contact lists, pulling favor after favor in search of a clue of what exactly had happened is happening to Dean, and how to fix it.
But, I wasn't exactly shocked when we came up completely empty handed, but deep down I had kept some semblance of hope alive. Or maybe I tricked myself into thinking that I had any hope left. Because, in all honesty, I felt nothing when Bobby finishing off another bottle of Jack decides to voice both their thoughts a week later.
We called off the search and fished his secret stash 'the good stuff ', he says. And I couldn't feel guilty about getting shit-faced when Dean's unconscious; completely helpless and vulnerable upstairs I couldn't muster up the energy. Because not only do they have to worry about Eve fucking strolling about who-knows-where, but they have to now consider the possibility that Crowley is, in fact, alive.

The halls reeked of blood, and guts human or otherwise. The place isn't as big as Crowley's first hide out, but the long corridors and iron doors still gave off an intimidating presence. Or so I heard some of the Demon's say anyways. To me the place was without import, it was fine as long as the King of Hell found how to open Purgatory. As I approached the door leading to where I sensed Crowley, I noticed what looked like a very fresh trail of blood leading back to the holding cells, the direction that I had just come from.
Tilting my head a little, I stepped over the fresh smudges and wondered if Crowley wasn't working on any of his captive creatures at the moment. It was an odd thought, considering the Demon had been on a non-stop torture rampage since their Deal had begun.
It didn't matter now, though. That's not why I was here. Purgatory wasn't my biggest priority any more. Dean's wellbeing was. But that didn't necessarily mean Crowley needed to know that, in fact, I fully intended to keep Dean's condition a secret as long as I could manage. I still needed information on the All-mother, though, and who better to get it from than the Demon hunting her? Opening the rusted and blood stained iron door, my previous thoughts were confirmed. Crowley was lounging in a leather chair sipping Scotch, looking completely out of place in the macabre surroundings of his usual work space.
"Ah, if it isn't my favorite Angel," Crowley smirked.
"Crowley," Castiel greeted curtly. "Have you found anything new?"
"All work and no play makes for a burnt out husk of a Vessel," Crowley's smirk grew, "But yes, we do have some new developments. But you already know them, and correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm sure that's not why you're here." How could he "I hear a certain Hunter's been promoted to top Monster," Castiel stops from flinching, but his eyes waivers a moment. "That's why you're here? But I doubt it's to help our endeavors for Purgato "
"No. Dean Winchester is to be left out of this. His condition changes nothing."
"Thought so, but we couldn't have used him anyways, or at least not in the way you're thinking," Crowley chuckled. "He can't open Purgatory, Love, he's never been there."
There was a long pause. Crowley must have some Demon's trailing me. It was a disturbing thought, that I couldn't pick up on their presence, but I would have to deal with that later, I had a reason for coming to Crowley about this.
"You have texts on the All-mother," It was a statement, I knew as much. Crowley had to get his information on Eve somehow.
"Piles," Crowley gestures toward the opposite side of the room, at another iron door. "Help yourself. I'm sure you'll want to get back to your lover boy as soon as possible."
Ignoring the Demon's taunts, I made for the door. I needed to figure out how to reverse what Eve has done to Dean and fast, I've never dealt with anything like this before Eve has never been able to find a sufficient match to change. A cure had never been a necessity, in all of time, until now.
"But, of course there isn't a cure," I stopped at that, turning to face the King of Hell with glare that would have most Demons cringe back in fear. "Trust me, I've been through every one of those books; there's nada on how to reverse the All-mother phenomenon. Your boy Dean's stuck the way he is But on the bright side, at least he's not an only mother. I'm sure Eve would be more than happy to spilt child suppo "
I grabbed a hold of the Demon's suit lapels, yanked him out of his chair and into the tile wall. I let my Grace run rampant, unchecked. It's not enough to really harm Crowley, but enough for a slow burn. "You're lying, there must be a way to reverse the effects," I growled, "There must be other texts."
Crowley's eyes turn beetle-black, hissing as the Grace slides over his vessel. "Sorry, Love, but there isn't exactly all that much on the All-mother. After all, there has always been just one, just Eve. If you want more books, you're gonna have to start writing them yourself."
I growled, angered beyond any kind of intelligible response. I let go of Crowley though, stepping back with a sneer. I can't except that there's nothing to help Dean, there's always a way to fix things. If anything it was Dean himself who taught me that.
"Oh, don't get your panties in a bunch," Crowley snips, straightening out his suit and tie. "Aren't you and your little band of Freedom fighters supposed to be about silver linings and all that jazz?" I only glared at Crowley as an answer. "There isn't a cure, but there's plenty of other information on All-mothers. I'm sure you'll figure out something. The Winchester's are like cockroaches, can't get rid of them, not without something short of a bloody nuclear war."
"What can you tell me?" I asked tersely. "What's happening to Dean?"
"Transition from man to Mother, Darling," Crowley walked back over to his chair, materializes another glass of scotch, lounges and drinks without a care in the world. In that moment, I had never wanted to kill him more. "Look, becoming an All-mother isn't like becoming any ordinary monster -a Vampire for example. When you become a blood sucker you grow fangs, your heart stops, etc. But becoming an All-mother is a lot more. Think of it as Dean accepting thousands of new children as his own." I looked at him pointedly, "He has a psychic connection with them all, like Eve, and, of course, holds some reign over them. Let me guess -you're worried about the whole flailing, screaming in pain thing, right? Well don't. It's normal. He's just established thousands of different connections with living, mostly breathing, monsters. That's bound to fuck with the Human body and mind, initially."
"In your search for Eve, have you found anything other than Phoenix ash that can kill them?" My tone was cold, ridged, but I've calmed some. Crowley had been correct in assuming it had been Dean's state on his way to Bobby's that had caused me so much distress. (And again, I'd have to do something about the Demons trailing me.)
"Hm, no such luck. If there's anything else out there in the big bad world that can harm an All-mother, Dean'll have to discover it on his own." Crowley clicks his tongue, face drawn in an over-exaggerated look of thought before: "'The First Testament of the All-mother'. I think that's the book you're gonna wanna start with." Crowley smiles wickedly, something I have come to familiarize as a leer.
It was unsettling, it made me both eager to get my hands on the book and stay far away from it at the same time. I had seen that look many times before, and Dean had been kind enough in the beginning of their relationship as Charge and Guardian to explain what it meant. Nothing good. I turned and walked briskly to the metal door the King of Hell had motioned towards earlier I didn't want to leave Dean alone for too long, not while in such a vulnerable state. I'd read through a few books, then go back to see if the Dean's condition had changed.

It seemed to feel like an eternity before the pain that I felt begin to disappear. Before -minutes, hours, years ago- there had been a voice, a prayer, and it had calmed the pain, the heat, and the erratic screaming of instinct within my fogged up mind. Something about the low growl had every cell in my body tuning in on what the voice had to say, even if it was mumbled gibberish. I was floating on what seemed the surface of an angry sea; paralyzed and unable to cry out for help.
It was dark, unnaturally so. Sight was a memory, an abstract thought. I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or closed anymore, didn't matter either way. It seemed like a life time before the pain completely dispersed, leaving a low heat thrumming at my core: hungry. Hungry for what, I didn't know. Eventually the water receded, or maybe I had been pushed to land. I wasn't real sure. Light was seeping in from an invisible source of light; though still leaving most of the world shadowed. It allowed me to inspect and take in my surroundings. I was standing, barefoot and clad in nothing but a shirt and jeans, on sand. I could hear the ocean, waves crashing against another, against land, but I couldn't see it. The light didn't illuminate brightly enough.
As I stood up, I thought that the lack of weapons should bother me, and looking down to thoroughly inspect my body. As I looked closely, I realized that my skin body was giving off a lazy glow. It was odd and unnatural, but I couldn't bring myself to panic. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this wasn't real at least, not on a physical plain. It was more like a dream, only the things I was seeing would see were all real in a sense. No real harm would come to me here, this was a safe place. A place where bonds grew stronger. There was a faint growling noise in the air, non-threatening, but there all the same. I look up and saw a shining dark purple plume of smoke slowly coming toward me. For a moment, terror struck me demon, I thought, but at the same time, I knew that wasn't right. It wasn't a demon, far from, in fact. It was a -my child. Child. I have children, and that wasn't that a strange of a concept to me.

Who would have thought that I, Dean Winchester, was a mother to thousands? The idea wasn't as disturbing as I'd thought it should've been. I should be freaking out, screaming and panicking. But instead a detached, abstract sense of endearment took fear's place in his mind, making him reach out and caress the silky plume when it drew close enough.
The smoke ran through my fingers slowly, humming in contentment. It slithered around me, almost engulfing me before settling in front of me. As I pulled my hand away, I watched in fascination as my child's gaseous form shifted and changed into the outline of a vampire.
Vampire. I'd fought and killed enough of them to know that that's what form my child had taken, what my child was in reality. I didn't feel pain or regret for what I'd done in the past. I hadn't known just how precious every child was, nor had they known who I really was. It was a forgivable sin on both sides, neither party guilty.
"Mother," The voice is an echo, traveling through the vast space of non-reality unhindered, "You look well."
"Flattery will not get you anywhere." The response felt right, like something I would've said before Eve changed me. But it was said without enthusiasm, without my usual bravado. I sounded tired. Now that I thought about it, I can feel a steady flood of warmth spread through my body. Starting in my gut and up. "What's wrong with me?"
The Vampire tilted his head, quizzically, and inhales deeply -scenting the air. "Heat. You've only inherited Children, not created any of your own." The vampire stepped closer, just a foot away now, "It's your body's way of telling you to make a Child. You need to find your mate, he can help you."
My brow furrowed for a moment, thinking that maybe I should be appalled by the whole heat and mate thing but- "I don't have a mate." My frown deepened, a pang of hurt shot through me at the realization, which is weird, because I already knew that. I never found the one that I wanted to settle down with; I was alone.
The Vampire sighed softly then he stepped forward, moist breath running over my neck and shoulder, "You are not alone, Mother."
"You can read my mind?" I was startled by the sudden rush of worry-paranoia-fear that ran through me, my emotions peaking enough to break through the haze of heat that I was suddenly aware of. But it calmed down almost as quick as it came, becoming a dull pulse. Almost unnoticeable.
"We're not on a physical plain, Mother, and we're connected. By soul," The vampire kissed the junction of my neck and shoulder, "By mind," Ran his face up the side of my neck, to my ear, "By love."
"Who are you?" It's all I could manage, every caress and swipe of tongue feels like Nirvana to my oversensitive skin. At the same time, it felt wrong. The vampire pulled away, eyes dancing with emotion.
"Nicholas." It's said with no little amount of pride, like he is trying to impress. I couldn't help the small bubble of love that formed deep in my chest. This is one of my Children now, after all, and to see it so strong and healthy is Well, it's pleasant.
"Dean." I mumbled, thinking it only polite, "Dean Winchester." Recognition ran across the vampire's face, but I wasn't worried. Nicholas wouldn't hurt me if I was trying to shank him with silver. Not anymore.
"It's good to know our new Mother is strong." Again, an unidentifiable emotion runs across the vampire's cloudy features. But before I could ask exactly what Nicholas was thinking, a surge of despair and worry -not my own- ran rampant through my consciousness. I fell to my knees, grunting, the emotions intense compared to the muted ones I'd been feeling since I went into the pitch black ocean.
I raised my hands to my aching head, there was a ringing, "Nicholas?"
The vampire looks perplexed, then angry. He growls. "Someone on the outside, someone close to you, they're projecting their feelings. You're responding."
"What does that mean?" The flat, illuminated, sand was slowly beginning to recede into darkness. Soon I wouldn't be able to see at all again. Nicholas backed away, though seemingly grudgingly, and was soon also consumed by the shadows.
"Nicholas! Where are you going? What's happening?"
"I will be back, Mother -Dean. I'll come and take care of you "
And with that, my world turned to light. It was weird because one moment I was being devoured by darkness, desperately calling for the vampire, and the next? I was staring up at a dusty, stained ceiling. I could still feel Heat bubbling just beneath the surface of my skin, but it wasn't as intense as it had been, like maybe being back on a physical plain had lessened the effects of it. Something told me -instinct, maybe- that it was only temporary.
Despite being out of the non-reality -being away from Nicholas and the unbearable Heat- the world still seemed muted. I can hear something to what seems like miles away -I think someone might be calling my name. But the pulse in my ears was loud, I couldn't be sure.
I wanted Nicholas to come back, he seemed to have answers and I felt like maybe being with one of my Children could help lessen my Heat-Want-Fogged mind. I wasn't sure how but- suddenly the muted room becomes that much hotter, my burning core seeking to breach my skin. With the burn accompanies a steady beat of something. I can't identify it, but it's there.
"What's wrong?" That voice, I knew that voice. I'm not sure how, but it sends a white-hot, liquid burn to run through my veins.
Not ready yet, I told myself. Or, at least, I think I do. It feels like my body has taken over my mind, keeping me from making my own decisions and planting thoughts instead. But that's crazy. Or maybe it's not. I wasn't sure anymore. But my body screamed that I'm not ready, but I will be soon. I just wish I knew what I was being prepared for.
Suddenly a wrinkled trench coat and piercing blue eyes move into my line of vision. My body instantly sings, but it's low -not like what it felt when Nicholas kissed me; caressed my neck with his face.
I found my thoughts flooded with the vampire. He's strong, wise, and knows exactly what I need. I wasn't sure why, but I found myself craving the touch of the vampire again; want to find him, be with him. My body practically hummed with the idea.
Something touched my forehead and a pulse of energy washed over my body. The Heat and Want and muddled thoughts get pushed back, though not far, and for a moment I thought-
"Nicholas?" But as soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I was wrong. The power was different than what I felt back in the non-reality with my Child. It's- it's not so much more powerful as it is more refined. Bright, warm, and all encompassing. I've felt it from somewhere before I turned my head; looked around the room and slightly wondered why I hadn't before. I should recognize my surroundings, but the fog of instinct is still strong in my mind -I can't quite make a connection.
"Uh, no It's Sam."
Oh, I thought. Right. I should have remembered. It's my Sammy after all, who's kinda like my Child in a way. I practically raised him all by myself, might as well as been mine I turned my head, wanting to see Sammy and is almost a hundred percent sure that's where the despairing crush of emotions had came from earlier. I can almost see the worried line Sam get's between his eyebrows when he broods, but a small twinge of pain stops me. There, right in the crook of my neck, is a sharp pain I've come to associate over the years with a bite wound. But that doesn't make sense Why would I-
"Dean, are you how are you feeling?"
Cass. Castiel. My eyes searched out the angel, letting my head lay still, not wanting to aggravate the wound on my neck, which I had no idea how I got in the first place. The last thing I could remember was the diner, Sam and Cass and Bobby Hunting Eve "Cass, I-" I'd been- No, I wasn't going to think about that. Denial has been my best friend since I was four. "Where's Eve? Did we where am I?"
I opted for the safest question. But even as my instincts told me to deny the truth, reality was still there in my conscious mind, wrapped tightly in the liquid burn that'd been pulsing through my body since they left the diner.
Suddenly a strange impulse washed over me. I wanted to sit up, needed to. Wanted to be close to- I needed to touch- God, I have no idea what I want! But I figured sitting up was the best I could do for now. Though, I ended up needing help from Cass. In any other situation, I'm pretty sure my manly pride would have made me curse and scold the angel, but for some reason It's more like I melted into the embrace, leaned into the touch and damned if the heat in my core didn't flare at the loose embrace of the angel's helping arms. Once I got situated with my back to the headboard, I was pretty sure I knew what I wanted. But that can't be right.
"Bobby's?" I deflect, giving denial another go.
"Yes," I shivered at the gravelly voice of the once fallen angel. "We thought this to be the best place for you to make your recovery." I inwardly winced. Of course Cass would make it impossible to for me to ignore, the one to knock down my inner walls -my last chance for evasion.
"Eve she She bit me and I-" Looking up into Cass's gaze. If I wasn't sure what my body was yearning for, this would've told me plain and clear. The angel's eyes seem a thousand times more rich and vibrant than usual, and thought I might see the swirling wrath of grace just beneath the surface. It's breath taking, and I want. "I'm." I barely manage; swallows: my throat dry, "All-mother?"
It came out as a question, but I knew better. It's true, no way around it. I'm not panicking, though, as my voice clearly depicted. Maybe I should be freaking out that I'm not freaking out, but But all I could think about was pale creamy skin, dark hair and ocean blue eyes; and I want. I'm pretty sure Sam keeps talking -something about fixing things- but all I could concentrate on are the eyes in front of me.
Before this whole fiasco, I would hold the Cass's gaze and we'd have whole conversations with each other without saying a single word. But this time it's different. It's not a conversation but more like a message, from Cass to me.
It's a promise. A promise of what, I'm not sure. But I'm not stupid -despite what most think- and with the way my body flamed up from the Cass's presence, and the slightly heated look he was giving me.
Well, two plus two equals four. The only thing I wasn't completely sure of is what exactly the end game is. And that's a little unsettling: to want and not know the extent of said desire.
"Hey, uh, Dean. You've been out for, uh, awhile How 'bout I go round you up something to eat, sound good?"
Sam's voice barely broke through my concentration, but when it does it instantly broke my staring match. I chastised myself for not listening, a surge of self-anger cooling my heated body for a moment. Sam is important; I've always listened to my younger brother -above all else- and that wasn't gonna change now. No matter how much I wanted to look into those beautiful eyes.
I diverted my gaze to the old bedding, not daring to move my eyes. If I focused on the sheets, then I'd be less tempted to meet ocean blue head on; I would be able to concentrate somewhat on my brother.
"Yeah Sammy, sounds good." I barely managed the words, so I think I can let myself slide on the lack of enthusiasm.
Sam stood, and I felt guilty at the shot of relief that shot through my body. Once he's gone, though, I could give all my attention back to Cass -can get lost in the blue orbs and maybe even Something. There's something I wanted from Cass, something my body wanted -more than the obvious sex- and I think that maybe even if I wasn't ready, it'd still be nice to have the angel close.
"Castiel, I could use your help in the kitchen, if you wouldn't mind?" Fuck, I mentally cursed. Don't leave But I kept my eyes locked on the bedding -if not just because of Winchester stubbornness now.
"I think you are more than capable of handling simple kitchenware on your own, Sam."
Relief flooded my body. But if I knew my brother, I knew he didn't need any help in the kitchen. Castiel will leave one way or another. He will leave me. There's a moments pause -I didn't need to look up to know that they we're glaring at each other.
"Fine Sam, I will assist you." I heard Cass say; I clenched my jaw, and stopped myself from lunging at Cass in an attempt to keep him still.
He'll be back, I reminded myself. He's just going down stairs with Sam. It's like a mantra in my head, reassuring myself. Even still, I lift my gaze and met Sam's eyes only when he was sure Cass left.
I'm not sure what Sam saw, but the flicker of panic-hurt-shock didn't go unnoticed. Something in my chest clenched, but the moment passes almost as quickly as the door shuts. Suddenly the heat-want-instinct flares up, burns my skin and body and mind. I flopped to my side, curled into a fetal position on the old, musty sheets -a pained moan escaping me. I needed to do this; needed to get up, walk down stairs to Cass and- Smack, crack, thunk.
I flinched, the sound of glass cracking and something hitting the windowsill suddenly startling to my over-hyper senses. The pain I felt instantly disappeared -for now, and I pushed myself up and looked at the smudge splotched window. There's a small patch of broken glass -hairline fractures slithering across the windowpane almost beautifully- there's blood staining it. Not much, but enough to be noticed. Looking more carefully, I saw what looked like a twitching, bleeding Lovebird.
It must be someone's pet, I thought as I slowly slid off the bed toward the window. The trip was strenuous for the most part, and a bit out of breath when I got to the window. But all the same I opened it, carefully, though I'm pretty sure the bird was incapacitated. I reach out a hand to the bird -barely brushing the delicate, light-green feathers before my vision abruptly took a strange hue to it.
When I had first woke up I thought things seemed perhaps a bit bright, yet dulled. But had thought it was simply because I'd been sleeping for a while. But now I was seriously starting to doubt that. My vision was taking on a silver sheen, growing more obscure as the heat-want-instinct grew more fierce at my core. Panic evaded me, and instinct took a hold on me instead. I picked up the bird, gently, and cradled it to my chest.
I could tell -even though I wasn't sure how- that the Lovebird was still alive, just severely injured. It was sick, probably from being in the outdoors instead of the care of its owner, which is why it flew into the window. It had been handicapped long before it ever collided with the thick glass -illness making it confused and hopeless. Reaching over on the bed, I grabbed one of the small, old blankets, and carefully wrapped the Lovebird in a soft cocoon before heading towards the window again.
"You'll be okay. I promise." I told the bird. Then my instinct told me to go higher, to be in fresh air. Something was pulling me forward, beyond my control, giving me strength. And still, I couldn't panic; not with the Lovebird in my gentle hold, not when its life depended on me following my instincts.
I wasn't ready for that something Castiel could give me yet, what the Angel was promising me, but I was ready for this. Again, I wish I knew exactly what 'this' was. But I didn't, and with the way my body hummed with warmth and energy. I wasn't sure if I really cared.