Dean and Sam were sitting in a dinner when it all started.
Sam was eating a salad and grumbling under his breath about Dean digging into a steak and rib combo. Dean just grinned at his younger brother through a mouthful of meat and bbq sauce. Sam shook his head and stuck a cherry tomato into his mouth.
Suddenly a sharp pain went through Dean's stomach. Dean winced and frowned, looking down to his stomach. It happened again but more intense. Dean dropped his fork, his eyes screwing shut as more waves of pain went through him.
"You ok, Dean?" Sam asked, concerned.
"No...God, I think I'm dying," he answered through gritted teeth.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked, standing up as Dean doubled over.
"My...my stomach," Dean said, feeling like he was going to throw up, "It feels like I've been stabbed."
"Is everything ok?" A waiter asked, coming over to see what was wrong.
"No," Dean growled, clutching his side where most of the pain was, "You've poisoned me!"
He tried to stand up but ended up falling against Sam. He looked down at his hand which was clutching his shirt tightly. A soft blue light was coming from underneath his shirt.
"Dean," Sam whispered, sounding shocked. Dean looked up, shaking slightly. Sam's eyes were wide as he looked at him. Beside Sam the waiter was looked at Dean as well, confused and with her hands over her mouth.
"Your eyes!" Sam hissed quietly. Dean looked to the window where he could see his reflection. His eyes were glowing blue, and he couldn't see the green of his eyes at all. He clung to Sam's jacket.
"Get me out of here Sam," Dean hissed. Sam just nodded and let Dean lean on him. Dean closed his eyes so people wouldn't see the glowing light coming from them and let Sam lead him out.
"What's going on?" Sam asked once they were out of the diner and heading down the street towards the motel they were currently staying in.
Lucifer had been released a couple of months ago and they were searching for a way to either kill him or kick his arse back into hell.
"Ahh!" Dean groaned as the pain got worse. He clutched Sam tighter.
"I don't know but my insides are on fire."
They got to the motel and Sam got the door open.
"Castiel!" Sam said, surprised. Dean opened his eyes, lighting the room up with a blue glow. In the middle of the room, leaning on a chair, was Castiel. He was also clutching his side, but unlike Dean, blood was seeping through his fingertips instead of light.
"Cas!" Dean gasped, pulling away from Sam's grip and taking a step towards Castiel. He didn't get far though as his legs gave way to the pain and he collapsed.
"What happened?" Dean asked as Sam bent down beside him to help him to the bed. Castiel looked at him with a confused look on his faced as he studied Dean and the blue light.
Dean groaned in pain again as Sam put him on the bed, and he curled onto his side, still clutching the side where the light was pouring out. Dean looked up at Castiel, who was still studying him intently.
"What happened?!" Dean demanded, starting to get pissed off from all the pain and the stupid stare that Castiel was giving him. Sam went to the Angel's side and helped him onto the other bed.
"When I left earlier I went to another Angel who said that I had commands from Michael himself, but it was a trick," Castiel told them, sitting down and opening his shirt up. There was a gash on his side that looked pretty deep. It was bleeding heavily.
"They stabbed me before I managed to escape."
"When?" Sam asked, getting a towel and holding it against Castiel's stomach. Dean was surprised when Castiel didn't wince in pain at the added pressure, instead just looking at it curiously.
"About ten minutes ago, I came straight back here," he replied.
"That's when you started...glowing," Sam said, looking at Dean, whose head had started to spin from the light.
"It started at the same time?" Castiel asked. Sam nodded as Dean closed his eyes and groaned again.
"He started to complain about a pain in his stomach and he thought it was food poisoning, and then his eyes started glowing," Sam explained.
"You're in pain?" Castiel asked, going to stand up but Sam pushed him down.
"No, I'm just curled up like a pussy for fun," Dean growled, feeling just like one as he shook, "Aren't you?"
"No, I feel nothing," the Angel answered.
"Well, good for you!" Dean snapped.
"Is this connected?" Sam asked, looking from one to the other. Dean opened his eyes, flinching as the light erupted in his eyes.
"I think it must be," Castiel answered. Dean sat up slightly and lifted up his shirt. There was a gash in his side that was spilling out light. It was identical to Castiel's stab wound.
"So you get stabbed and I feel the pain!?" Dean asked, confused and frustrated, "What the hell, Cas?!"
Castiel frowned slightly before looking like he was deep in thought.
"This has happened a couple of times before, but only in extremely rare circumstances," Castiel told them, "The last time this happened was centuries ago."
"So what are we suppose to do?" Dean asked, lying back on the bed and squeezing his eyes shut, "My head feels like it is going to explode."
"My wound should heal soon," Castiel told him, "The pain should stop then."
Dean groaned again, placing a pillow over his eyes and clutching where his side was pulsing in pain. It felt like he had been stabbed himself. He could even feel the icy metal as if the blade was still in there.
He had been stabbed before but this felt different. Maybe it was the lack of adrenaline that came with having the injury actually inflicted. He hadn't got the rush that normally came with hunting and fighting and getting hurt, just the pain. The stupid, annoying pain.
About an hour later, Dean was still lying in bed, on his back now as the pain had reduced greatly. He had a wet flannel over his eyes and his head was still pounding.
Castiel was healed now and he and Sam were discussing about why this had happened.
"I can only think of three times that this has happened before," Castiel said, cleaning his shirt with his Angel mojo and doing it back up.
"Each time it has been because the Angel has touched the human in some way while in their true form."
Dean found himself reaching up to touch the handprint engraved on his arm. He couldn't see Castiel watching him.
"But you pulled Dean out of hell over a year ago, and you've been hurt since then; you were blown to pieces at one point and Dean didn't feel a thing then," Sam told him.
Castiel was silent for a moment, standing up and looking out of the window, away from Dean.
"Soul connections are formed not just by the physical touching of our grace to the human's soul, but when emotional connections are formed as well," Castiel explained.
"What does that means?!" Dean asked, sitting up too fast. His head span and he saw three Castiel's in front of him. He fell back down on the bed. Sam stood to help him but Castiel got there sooner. He placed a hand on Dean's forearm to keep him down. He got the wet flannel that had fallen off Dean's eyes and placed it on his forehead instead. Dean moaned slightly as it felt really pleasant and cool.
"It means that we had got close, Dean," Castiel said, "Closer then we should have."
Dean opened his eyes and looked up into Castiel's blue eyes. He couldn't read what the Angel was feeling, if he was feeling anything at all, but his hands were soft and gentle, and Dean thought they felt nice. He shook his head and felt his head spin again.
"I think I'm going to throw up," Dean moaned.
"Go to sleep," Castiel said gently; gentler than Dean had ever heard him say anything before. He then felt two fingers against his forehead and he slipped into darkness.
Dean woke a couple of hours later, and he felt a lot better. His head wasn't spinning anymore and his side wasn't hurting. He realised someone was watching him before he even opened his eyes. It was Castiel, who was sitting on the bed beside him.
"How are you feeling?" He asked.
"Better," Dean answered, too tired to sit up. Instead he looked up to Castiel's face.
"I wanted to make sure you were ok before I left," Castiel said.
"Where are you going?" Dean asked, frowning slightly.
"Your brother is keen to get our connection broken," Castiel told him, "I'm going to see if there is a way."
For some reason hearing this sent a stab of pain through Dean's heart. He ignored it through.
"Do you want to break the connection?" He asked instead.
"I don't want to see you hurt," Castiel simply answered, "And the Angels do not seem to like me at the moment and it is likely that I will get hurt again."
"Don't say that," Dean said, feeling another stab of pain. He wanted to reach out and touch Castiel. Keep him safe.
But he didn't. He felt stupid for even thinking it.
"What do you want me to say?" Castiel asked, tilting his head slightly.
"I don't know," Dean sighed, closing his eyes briefly, "I don't want to see you hurt either."
"I'll try and not get hurt, Dean," Castiel said softly, and Dean swore he heard a hint of affection there.
"Where are you going to go?" He asked.
"I am going to try and find the last Angel who had a soul connection with a human," Castiel told him, "He disappeared centuries ago, just after the human died."
"Who was it?" Dean asked.
"Gabriel."
"Gabriel?" Dean asked, frowning, "The Messenger of God, Mary and Jesus Christ Gabriel?"
"Yes, Gabriel was the one to deliver the word of God to the Mother Mary," Castiel answered, "No one has seen him in years, but I believe he will be the one to be able to help us."
Dean nodded and then was startled as Castiel laid a hand on his forehead. He sighed though as his skin was cool and seemed to calm the slight pain left in his head.
"I am sorry I caused you pain," Castiel said quietly.
"Its fine," Dean chuckled, feeling slightly freaked out that this was turning into such a chick flick moment, "It's not like you asked for this."
Castiel nodded and then took his hand off Dean's forehead. He stood up and Dean caught his wrist. He didn't want Castiel to leave but he shouldn't feel this way. He shouldn't care.
Dean realised his wrist and looked away.
"Just...be careful, ok?" He mumbled. He didn't hear Castiel reply as he placed his fingers to Dean's forehead again. Dean fell asleep instantly.
Castiel looked for Gabriel for weeks, but the Archangel hid his tracks well. It was as if he had completely disappeared. Sam and Dean continued on with their search of finding a way to get rid of Lucifer. It was slow going and Dean found it frustrating. He also found himself missing Castiel when he wasn't there. The Angel checked in often, but it was never for long enough. He seemed to be concerned about Dean, but he never said anything; just informed them about the process of his search and also any information he may have about Satan.
And then he disappeared, not to be seen again for a couple of days.
Dean definitely felt different. He felt strange without Castiel there and he began to think about him at really inappropriate times. Like in the shower. He tried denying these feelings but they resurfaced stronger every time Castiel appeared in front of him with that silly trench coat and sky blue eyes and messy black hair. Dean was sure it was because of the soul connection. It had to be because he had never felt like this before.
He felt like a girl when his heart quickened as Castiel stood in front of him and he stared for too long and he was sure he had blushed once when Castiel brushed past him.
It was embarrassing and confusing.
Castiel got hurt again. This time an Angel who wanted to know where the Winchesters were had cornered him and held an Angel bladed to his throat. Castiel had managed to get away but not before getting his neck sliced.
It wasn't too deep but it made it hard for both Castiel and Dean to talk.
Dean had been sitting on his bed, sipping a beer and watching Dr Sexy, when he felt a chill against his neck. He frowned, rubbing the skin there. It didn't feel cold.
He gasped a second later as he felt his skin slice open and the mostly dark room filled with a blue light.
He gasped again as the pain set in suddenly and he struggled to breathe. He covered his neck with his hands, a reflex to stop the bleeding. But it wasn't bleeding and the light kept coming through.
He tried calling for Sam but no sound came out but a struggled cry. It wouldn't matter anyway as Sam was at the library doing some research.
He tried calling for Castiel next, but he still couldn't get any words out. He was shaking by now, as panic set in.
Cas! He thought desperately, Cas! What happened!? Come here!
A blink later and Castiel was standing in front of him, blood pouring down from his neck and drenching his shirt and trench coat in red. His eyes were wide in shock as he stared back at Dean, his skin looking pale in the blue light.
Cas! Dean tried to say before standing up. His head span but he tried to ignore it as he grabbed the towel he had discarded on the floor from his earlier shower. He stumbled over to Castiel and pushed down on his shoulder so the Angel was forced to sit on the bed. Dean then pressed the towel to Castiel's neck.
Castiel's eyes were wide, almost fearful, as he gripped Dean's wrists tightly. He tried to say something but he seemed to be having the same problem as Dean.
Dean's head was spinning too much. He closed his eyes as he swayed on the spot. He felt hands on his sides to try and steady him, but it wasn't enough. He fell forward, causing both him and Castiel to fall on the floor, Castiel on top of him.
The panic running through Dean grew worse as Castiel's blood fell onto his skin, hot and sticky. He reached for the towel, which was already drenched in red, and he pressed it against Castiel's wound, his hands shaking as more blood landed on his face.
Castiel tried to pull away but Dean wouldn't let him. He held him there. Castiel reached down and placed his hand over Dean's eyes, closing them.
The blinding light dimmed and it felt like a relief. He relaxed slightly, leaning his head back against the floor. He still felt the pain and it felt hard to breathe, but it felt slightly better with Castiel's cool hand against his hot skin.
They stayed like that for a while, keeping each other anchored. Dean kept his hands against Castiel's neck, his hands wet from all the blood. The panic slowly calmed, replaced by exhaustion. He didn't realise as his hands fell from Castiel's neck and his breathing got easier.
"Dean?" Castiel's croaked voice woke him. Dean opened his eyes as Castiel's hands moved from his face. Castiel's neck was covered in blood but the wound had healed.
"What-," Dean tried but his voice was also croaked. He coughed to clear his throat but this just caused his head to spin and pound. He winced, closing his eyes again.
"The Angels want to find you and Sam, and they are trying to do that through me," Castiel explained, his voice gruffer than usual. He helped Dean up and to the bed, lying him down gently.
Dean closed his eyes, feeling weak and pathetic. He felt a wet cloth against his head and he was glad Castiel was there, even if it was him that had put him in this position.
"I'm glad you got away," Dean said.
"So am I," Castiel replied, "I found out that if I die, then you will die as well."
Dean just sighed, accepting the fate. It seemed like common sense. If Dean had to feel Castiel's pain, then it would make sense that if Castiel died, then he would follow. He was surprised that the sliced neck hadn't done it. If it had been inflicted on him then Dean would at least have lasting damage.
"Well, try and not die then." Dean told him, turning his head to the side. His head ended up leaning against Castiel's leg. He hadn't known the Angel had been there but he stayed with his head against the leg anyway. As if responding to the contact, Castiel placed a hand on Dean's forehead.
"I'm sorry this is happening," Castiel said quietly and he did sound very guilty.
"Stop saying that," Dean smiled, "I'm sure my human emotions have caused this in some way."
"From the research I have gathered it has to be equal emotions from both of us," Castiel told him.
"So does that mean that we want to fuck each other or something?" Dean asked bluntly, thinking about the thoughts he had been having in the shower.
"I don't think so," Castiel answered, "the first soul connection was between an orphan boy and a female Angel, who had saved him from a fire she saw from heaven; she didn't have time to find a vassal and she left a scar on his hand from where she took it to lead him out of the fire; she then found a vassal and raised him. Never was there romance between them, they had a mother and son relationship."
"How about the next one?" Dean asked, finding his voice smoothing.
"That was between a female human and a female Angel," Castiel told him, "They were said to be as close as sisters; the Angel saved the human from a group of demons and her scar was on her chest."
Dean listened, subconsciously moving closer.
"I heard their connection took years to form, but when it did it was just one of extreme friendship."
"How did it end?" Dean asked.
"The Angel fell for the human and once they were both human they didn't share the pain connection anymore; they lived together, married other men and had children and died together."
"And Gabriel?" Dean asked.
"Not much is known," Castiel told him, "Just that he disappeared after the human died."
Dean remained quiet, and soon dozed off.
When he woke the next morning, Castiel was gone.
"We need to get rid of this connection thing," Sam said, pacing the floor of the motel room. It was the next morning and Dean had just told what had happened the night before.
"Cas is looking into it," Dean sighed, rubbing his temple. He still had a slight headache and he hadn't had his morning drink yet. He hadn't had a chance to sneak into the bathroom yet. Sam was worrying enough already; he didn't need to know about his brother's drinking habits as well.
"Really Dean?" Sam asked, "Because this seems like quite a sweet deal to me; he can get hurt as much as he wants and not feel a thing; maybe he doesn't want to get rid of whatever connection you two share."
"Don't say that," Dean sneered, feeling defensive over Castiel, "If Cas says he will do something, he'll do it; he hates this just as much as you do."
"Dean," Sam said, stopping his pacing and facing his older brother, "I think Castiel may have done this to you."
"Sam," Dean warned him, not liking where he was going with this.
"I tried looking this up and I can't find any information on soul connections anywhere; I think he may have...cursed you in some way so you take all his pain."
"He wouldn't do that!" Dean growled, standing up so he was more level with Sam, "There have only been a few cases where this has happened so it makes sense that there is no information on it and I know Cas wouldn't do that, you should have seen him last night, he looked scared- Sacred Sam! I've never seen an Angel show any emotion before, but Cas did last night, and I'm pretty sure Angels can't fake emotions."
"But how could you two grow so close?" Sam asked, keeping his argument up, "Last year you hated him."
"He was a bit of a dick, but I never hated him," Dean told his brother, "He saved me from hell for God's sake! You can't hate someone that saved you from that."
"So you love him then!?" Sam asked, throwing his hands up in the air.
When Dean hesitated, Sam's mouth fell open.
"You do!" He gasped. Dean's eyes narrowed.
"Just shut up Sam!" He growled.
"But Dean, he's-," Sam started, looking shocked.
"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Dean warned, pointing a finger at him. He then pushed past Sam and stormed out of the room, to the parking lot. He was shaking with anger and embarrassment.
He wasn't in love with Castiel, so why had he all but admitted it to Sam?
Just because he was getting certain...urges from just thinking about the Angel didn't mean he was in love with him. He just appreciated the vassal he had chosen and the cute little stare he has, and when he tilts his head, and that rare smile, and the-
Dean shook his head. Thinking about Castiel wasn't helping. He wasn't in love with him. He couldn't be.
Dean got into his impala and took out the flask that he always carried around now. He took a long sip, wincing as the whisky inside burnt his throat. He then started up the car and drove.
There weren't many places to go. It was a small town and they had just finished the case they had been working on. It was too early to go to a bar, so Dean settled for the local diner, hoping Sam wouldn't follow him.
He sat down in a booth and ordered the biggest cooked breakfast they had. The best comfort he could get right now was eating a plateful of greasy food.
About half way through his meal, Castiel appeared across from him. Dean jumped, dropping his fork and cursing.
"Don't do that!" He hissed.
"How are you feeling?" Castiel asked. Dean looked up at him. His blue eyes were filled with concern. It looked like he was assessing Dean in some way. The hunter blushed as he remembered Castiel's hand against his skin last night. He hid his blush by looking back down at his plate.
"I'm fine," Dean grumbled, before stabbing his eggs with his fork.
"You don't seem fine," Castiel said, questioning in his voice, "What's wrong Dean?"
Dean looked back up into those piercing blue eyes and he just felt like he had to tell Castiel everything.
"Sam thinks you've cursed me or something so that I feel your pain," he told him.
"Why would I do that?" Castiel asked, his head tilting in confusion. Dean shrugged.
"To make you stronger or something," he mumbled, "It's not true, is it?"
"No, I did not curse you Dean, your soul bounded with my grace," Castiel told him, "I wouldn't do anything to deliberately hurt you."
"I didn't think it was true," Dean said, "I think it's because Sam can't find any information on it, so he doesn't trust you." He poked at his food, picking up a sausage and taking a bite. He didn't look at Castiel but he could feel him watching him.
"Do you trust me?" Castiel asked. Dean nodded, looking up and taking another bite.
"I trust you."
They sat in a comfortable silence after that. Dean finished his breakfast and Castiel watched him. Normally Dean would feel uncomfortable with the Angel staring at him, but today he took comfort from it for some reason.
They walked back out to the impala, where Castiel stopped next to the car. Dean opened the door and leant against it, looking at the Angel.
"I must continue my search now, I just came to check up on you," Castiel said, sounding almost regretful.
"How is it going?" Dean asked.
"Gabriel has hidden his tracks very well," Castiel answered, "I have found very little trace of him, and my search for God is also taking up a lot of my time, which is also not going well."
Dean could see that this was frustrating him. He hid it well, but Dean could see it.
"I'm sure you will make some progress soon," Dean told him. Castiel gave him a short nod and then disappeared.
Dean sighed and got into the car. He took another swig from his flask, and then drove back to the motel.
Sam was wise enough to not say anything else, so Dean didn't have to discuss whatever feelings he had for Castiel. Sam was the last person Dean wanted to talk to about it.
However, Sam did still believe that Castiel was hurting Dean on purpose.
It happened again. Castiel got stabbed in the arm by another Angel. Castiel turned up as soon as he could, but Sam wouldn't let him anywhere near Dean. He yelled at Castiel, who just stood there and took it. Dean ended up telling them both to fuck off, because the stupid light coming out of his eyes was making his head pound and Sam's yelling felt like trumpets and drums and car horns going off right next to his ear. Sam waited until Castiel disappeared and then stormed out of the room.
Dean, frustrated beyond belief, drink beer after beer, whiskey after whiskey, until the pain in his head dulled enough to be able to ignore. He ended up sitting on the floor seeking comfort from late night reruns of Dr Sexy.
Castiel appeared next to him and he was drunk enough not to jump. He laughed instead and Castiel took away the bottle of whiskey.
"Well, that's not fair!" Dean grinned, but he didn't protest.
"Is there any reason you're in this state?" Castiel asked.
"To forget," Dean told him, his speech slurred, "But it doesn't always work."
"What do you want to forget?" Castiel asked, sitting o the floor next to him. They sat against the foot of the bed, side by side. Dean had his legs spread out in front of him, while Castiel sat crossed legged. Their sides were pressed together and Dean tried to ignore how this made him feel.
"Everything," Dean sighed, leaning his head back against the mattress and closing his eyes.
"Hell, Sammy being addicted to demon blood, Lucifer taking over the world, the fact that you seem to be getting stabbed every other week."
He turned his head to look at Castiel. He seemed really close.
"I mean, seriously Cas, are the Angels stalking you or something?"
"Yes," Castiel replied simply, "They want to know your whereabouts and are trying to use me to find it, but when I won't say they try and force it out of me."
Dean frowned, his eyebrows crinkling as he absorbed this.
"So the reason you keep getting hurt is because of us?" He asked.
"Yes, but I want to protect you and Sam," Castiel told him, his very small smile there.
"I'm sorry Sam yelled at you earlier," Dean said, feeling guilty now. He felt like yelling at Sam now. Castiel was getting hurt because of them.
"It is alright," Castiel told him, "I sometimes desire for some of my brothers and sisters to be as protective over me as you two are for each other; the love you have for one another is very clear."
Dean smiled sadly and nodded.
"Don't worry, you can be part of our family," he told Castiel, and then winced slightly as a stab of pain went through his head.
"I think I should go to bed, my head still hurts," he said, trying to stand up. The room began to spin and he ended up falling against the prepared Castiel.
"I think you should have gone to bed straight away," Castiel said and Dean almost melted with how smooth and hypnotic his voice sounded.
"You smell good," he mumbled, leaning into Castiel's warm chest and sniffing him.
"Thank you," Castiel said, and Dean swore he heard a hint of amusement there. Castiel helped him over to the bed and laid him down. Dean let him tuck him in and watched the look of concentration on the Angel's face. He looked like he wanted to get it just right. Once he had done tucking the cover just under Dean, he looked at the hunter, his blue eyes twinkling in the soft glow of the TV. He placed a hand on Dean's forehead, feeling the slightly warm skin. Dean sighed at the touch and then grabbed hold of Castiel's other hand, causing the Angel to meet his eyes with his.
"Try and be careful," Dean nearly begged him, "And I'm not asking because I am getting hurt, I don't care about that, I'm asking because I can't lose anyone else, I just can't."
"I know," Castiel said quietly, "I'll be as careful as I can, Dean."
And Dean knew he was being honest. His blue eyes looked heavy with the promise. Dean nodded and shut his eyes. He felt two fingers against his forehead and he fell into darkness, free of fire, blood and demons.
"Dean!" Sam yelled as one of the damn demons they were
fighting slammed into the older Winchester, knife in hand. Dean was forced against the wall behind him and gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. It took him less than a second to recover though as he pushed the demon off him and throw a punch his way. A crunch told Dean that he had broken the demon's nose but that wouldn't stop him. The demon grinned at Dean through a mouthful of blood.
The hunter grinned back before shoving Ruby's knife through the bastard's chest. The demon looked shocked as his eyes crinkled with fire and then he slumped forward, dead.
"Damn demons," Dean growled as he pulled his knife back out and wiped it clean on the demon's shirt. He stood up and faced Sam, whose face was pale.
"You ok, Sammy? They didn't get you, did they?" Dean asked, walking towards Sam. There were four dead demons around them. They had been tracking a trail on the horsemen, but it just ended up with them getting ambushed by the demons.
"No...Dean, your stomach!" Sam said, rushing to his brother's side. Dean looked down to see blood all over his shirt.
"It's not mine," Dean tried to reassure him, but as he lifted up his shirt he saw that there was a deep gash on his stomach and it was bleeding heavily.
"Dean, that looks really bad," Sam told him.
"It doesn't hurt," Dean said, frowning.
"Come on, I need to get you back to the motel room," Sam insisted, before pulling off his flannel shirt and balling it up. He gave it to Dean to press against his wound. Dean held it there, still confused as he couldn't feel a thing. Sam led him back to the impala and quickly drove to the motel.
"Keep holding it there," Sam ordered as Dean took the shirt away to have a quick look.
"I can't feel anything," Dean told him.
"But you look pale, I think you've lost too much blood," Sam said, looking at him briefly. Dean looked at the side mirror. He did look pale and was seating slightly. He suddenly felt a desire to see Castiel, because he might be able to explain what was going on. That's when it hit him.
"Drove faster," Dean ordered urgently.
"I'm going too fast as it is," Sam said, but pressed down on the gas anyway.
"I need to get to the motel room," Dean said, worrying his lip.
They pulled into the car park of the motel a short while later and Sam and help Dean out, even though he could walk fine. Dean's fears were confirmed when Sam opened the door to the motel room.
Castiel was sitting on the floor, pale and holding his side. The room was filled with a green light that was coming from Castiel's side and his eyes.
"Cas!" Dean gasped, even though he had been expecting it. He rushed over to him, and crunched down.
"Dean, you're hurt," Castiel said simply, reaching a hand out to Dean's side. He gasped in pain as he did so and pulled back, holding his side, where the light was flooding out.
"Cas! Cas!" Dean cried, not knowing what to do. He had never seen the Angel in pain before.
"My head hurts as well," Castiel told him, "Is this how you feel every time?"
"It passes," Dean promised him. Castiel closed his eyes, pressing his face into the mattress behind him.
"Do you still believe Cas caused this?" Dean snapped at Sam, turning to the shocked younger Winchester who was standing in the doorway. He shook his head and then went over to them to help them into the beds. He helped Castiel first, who moaned and curled onto his side, careful of where the wound was, but also burying his face into the pillow to block out the light.
Sam then started to help Dean. He inspected the wound, which wasn't as deep as he had feared, and washed and stitched it. They did this in silence so not to make Castiel's migraine any worse. They heard him wince though, every time Sam put the needle in Dean's body.
For Dean this was a very weird experience. He knew that this should be hurting, but he couldn't feel anything. Every time Sam pieced his skin he expected a stab of pain. It never came though, instead going to Castiel.
"I'm going to get some more bandages," Sam told Dean once he had finished stitching, "Don't move or you will reopen your wound."
Dean just nodded.
"Turn all the lights off on your way," he said and Sam left, leaving the room in darkness, apart from the fading green light.
Dean remained silent, not wanting to disturb Castiel. He wanted to move over to the other bed to see if the Angel was ok, but he didn't dare move in feat that it would just cause Castiel more pain.
"I wish to find Gabriel as quickly as possible," Castiel's voice said in the darkness.
"Why?" Dean asked, turning his head to look at him. He could see a faint outline of Castiel's body, the edges illustrated in a soft green glow.
"Because I hate the thought of you being in this much pain every time I get hurt," Castiel answered.
"At least you heal instantly," Dean said, "I won't heal for a while, and you will feel the pain the whole time."
"I can handle it," Castiel reassured him.
"Well, you will have to stay with us for a couple of days at least," Dean told him, "You will be too weak to do anything."
"I will be fine, I need to find Gabriel, he will be able to guide us through this and he may be able to help us with Lucifer," Castiel argued.
"No, I'm not letting you out of my sight until I know you're ok," Dean said, settling the matter. Castiel wisely choose not to argue.
"Why is the light coming from your eyes green, but when it is me, its blue?" Dean asked.
"The light is a reflection of my grace and your soul, I believe," Castiel answered, sounding tired, "The blue light you produce is my grace reacting to the connection."
"So my soul is green?" Dean asked, frowning. It was such a mallow colour. He wasn't sure if it suited him.
"Yes, like your eyes," Castiel told him, "I like it."
Dean tried not to laugh. It was such a girly thing to say, but it didn't sound weird coming from Castiel.
"Dean, is it a normal human response to sleep after feeling pain?" The Angel asked.
"Yes," Dean answered, "After pain like this, yes."
"I think I might go asleep then, I feel your soul requesting it," Castiel said, sounding tired and worn out.
"Ok, goodnight Cas," Dean mumbled. Castiel didn't reply as he was already asleep.
Sam got a cot from the reception and complained the next morning of a sore back. He shut up straight away when Dean glared at him.
Castiel had stopped glowing and he no longer had the headache from hell, but every time Dean moved he felt the pain.
So Dean tried not move, which was very frustrating. He and Castiel stayed in bed and watched crappy day time TV. Sam had to wait on them as punishment for being such a jerk the last couple of weeks. Dean made him get them breakfast, lunch and dinner, even though Castiel ate none of it, and also made him fluff their pillows, get them drinks and go to the DVD shop to get some films.
Castiel was quiet most of the day. He occasionally asked questions when something confused him on the TV, but that was it. He looked paler than usual, but Dean might have been imagining it.
Dean sat on one bed, moving as little as possible, and Castiel on the other, looking like he was just about to fall asleep but at the same time looking quite intently at the TV. Dean felt a huge amount of guilt throughout the day. If Castiel had been hurt then Dean would be fine by now, but when he was hurt Castiel had to suffer for weeks.
Castiel hid the pain well though. He didn't complain and he didn't flinch or moan. Dean could see it in his eyes though. They had dulled slightly.
At one point, after Sam had got another room because he had enough of being ordered around, Dean went to the toilet. He tried to be as careful as possible but when he came back into the room he could see that the movements had hurt Castiel.
The Angel was clutching his side and his eyes were closed tight. His bed was nearest to the toilet so Dean sat down on it just to stop the movements.
"Cas?" He asked, wanting to reach out and touch him but not daring to move. Castiel was breathing heavily, but he opened his eyes and looked at Dean.
"I'm ok," he told the worried hunter. He took his hand away from his side and moved closer to Dean. He moved his hand to the bottom of Dean's shirt and lifted it up. Dean bit his lip as Castiel ran his long, pale fingers up his stomach and across the bandages that covered his skin until his hand was over the gash.
Dean gasped softly as Castiel's eyes shone green and the light came out of his palm. A small wave of pleasure went through Dean, lasting only a second, but it was enough to make a soft moan escape his lips. At the same time a sigh of relief came from Castiel and he slumped forward, his forehead against Dean's shoulder.
"What did you do?" Dean asked, looking down at his stomach where Castiel's hand was still resting.
"I healed you," he answered, sounding worn out.
"I thought you couldn't do that anymore, since you're cut off from heaven?" Dean asked.
"It weakens me," Castiel admitted, "But I am no good to you like this, and I don't like you hurt."
"I'm sorry," Dean said quietly, "I don't like this either."
Castiel stayed quiet, his head still resting against Dean's shoulder and his hand splayed across his stomach. Dean felt his body relaxing and his breathing evening out.
Dean turned his head to see Castiel's eyes closed and asleep. He looked peaceful and very human. It worried Dean. This connection seemed to be weakening Castiel, and Dean knew it was his fault. He knew that they had to find Gabriel soon.
For the time being, Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel's shoulders, holding him close as he laid them both down, and fell asleep, his chin resting on Castiel's head.
The next day Castiel had disappeared, leaving a very disappointed Dean. He didn't understand why Castiel would just disappear like that. Maybe he had been uncomfortable when he had woken up. Dean cursed himself all day; he should have moved to the other bed.
His foul mood wasn't missed by Sam, but Dean didn't tell him why; just that Castiel had healed him and that they could go back to looking for the horsemen.
Castiel didn't show up again for a while. Dean knew he was ok because he would have been able to feel it otherwise, but that didn't stop him from worrying.
After a week Dean found it hard to sleep or concentrate. He didn't dare call for Castiel though as he was afraid he had overstepped a boundary with the whole sleeping in the same bed thing.
"You don't look well," Sam told him one afternoon as they were driving.
"I'm fine," Dean lied. In fact he felt tired and run down, like he had the flu but none of the coughing and sneezing. His whole body ached and felt weak. His movements seemed to take a lot of effect and his mind was a blur. He looked pale and had dark shadows under his eyes. Thinking of Castiel seemed to cause sharp stabs of pain to his heart and he wished the Angel would just show up.
Dean got his wish about two weeks after he last saw Castiel. He was sitting in the impala in the car park of the motel that he and Sam were currently staying in. Sam had insisted on watching this documentary on the TV and Dean, not wanting to watch a dull historian go on about Ancient Egypt, was sitting in his car. He was trying to eat a burger but he had seemed to have lost his appetite lately. The stereo was blaring Queen and Led Zeppelin. Just as Dean was giving up with his burger, Castiel appeared in the seat next to him.
"Cas!" Dean gasped. Castiel didn't look much better them himself. His skin was pale and waxy and his hair seemed greasy and limp. He looked tired and skinnier than usual.
"Hello Dean," he said, his voice gruff like usually, but there seemed to be a hint of relief in his tone.
Dean wanted-no needed- to reach out and hug him, but last time he had held Castiel, he had disappeared for weeks, so he stopped himself just as he was going to reach out and touch him.
"Where have you been?" Dean asked instead.
"I have devoted my time to finding Gabriel," Castiel answered, looking at Dean intently. He edged forward slightly, and Dean felt the urge to reach out to him again.
"Any luck?" Dean asked. Castiel shook his head.
"No, I was going to continue but I felt like I needed to see you."
Dean nodded, understanding the feeling.
"You look dreadful," Dean told him.
"So do you," Castiel replied and for some reason this made Dean laugh. Castiel looked confused as Dean leant back against the seat and laughed, but then he smiled as Dean calmed down and looked at him with gentle eyes. Dean watched as Castiel's eyes softened and the corners of his mouth lifted just slightly. He couldn't resist anymore.
Dean reached forward and put his hand on Castiel's arm. He was still restricted by clothes, but the contact made them both release a sigh. Castiel reached up, placing a hand over Dean's.
"Why did you leave like that?" Dean asked, needing to know.
"I was well again so I decided to continue my search," Castiel answered, "I didn't want to wake you."
Dean nodded, lowering his glance. He felt that Castiel was hiding something but didn't push the matter.
"Just... just don't disappear like that again," Dean said quietly, "Check in on me every day or so, just so I know you're ok."
Castiel nodded, and then squeezed Dean's hand briefly before moving it away.
"I'm sorry if you worried Dean."
Dean just shrugged, missing the contact but not saying anything. He picked up his burger and fries, suddenly feeling hungry again.
"Wanna share this?" He asked.
"I don't require food Dean," Castiel reminded him.
"So?" Dean smiled, holding out a fry, "It will still taste nice."
Castiel took the fry from Dean and nibbled it. Dean chuckled slightly with how cute he looked.
Together they ate the food. They sat in a comfortable silence, the stereo playing quietly. They seemed to get closer as time went on; each of them subconsciously moving towards the other as if they were magnets. By the time the food was finished their sides were pressed together. Neither of them noticed.
Dean found himself talking about memories from his childhood. Happy ones that made him smile. He wasn't normally this open about his past but he just wanted to share them with Castiel. The Angel sat there and listened, smiling along as Dean spoke of fishing with Bobby one afternoon, and reading to Sam at bedtime, even though he couldn't read at four so just made the stories up.
A little while later and Dean had slowly stopped talking. He was tired, as he had been for the last couple of weeks. His mind wasn't coming up with lots of different scenarios about what trouble Castiel could be in as it had been the last couple of weeks, because Castiel was here with him.
Without Dean realising, his head ended up resting against Castiel's shoulder. His eyes were shut and his hand was resting on Castiel's thigh.
"Are you going to sleep?" Castiel asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. Dean opened his eyes slightly, awakened by the very obvious human emotion in the Angel.
"I could go inside," Dean mumbled, still in a half asleep state.
"No," Castiel almost begged, grabbing Dean's hand and pulling him back against him, "I like this."
Dean smiled tiredly, snaking his arm around Castiel's stomach and shamelessly snuggling closer.
"You won't leave, will you?" Dean asked, too tired to care about how pathetic and needy he sounded.
"No," Castiel promised, his arms around Dean's shoulders.
And with that promised Dean fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning Dean awoke feeling better than he had in a while. He was still lying against Castiel, who was leaning against the car door.
"Good morning," he said as Dean sat up, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
"Did you mojo me?" He asked, amazed at how great he felt.
"No," Castiel told him, "You seemed like you were in a deep sleep so I didn't see the need."
"Well, I guess you just make a good bed," Dean smiled, nudging him gently.
"I'm glad," Castiel smiled, "Now, I must continue my search."
Dean nodded and then, forgetting himself, lent forward and hugged Castiel. He buried his face in Castiel's neck and smiled when the Angel wrapped his arms around him and hugged back.
"I will see you tonight," Castiel promised. Dean nodded, hanging on for a few more moments. Castiel didn't seem to mind though. He sent shots of pleasure running through Dean by rubbing his back in slow circles and catching his bare neck with his thumb every now and again.
When they broke apart Dean felt more well and healthy then he had in ages. Before he sold his soul and went to hell. Before that maybe. He didn't feel ill and tired anymore and he was happy. Castiel looked better than he did last night as well. No longer pale and sickly looking. His eyes were bright and it looked like he had some colour to his cheeks.
They both looked at each other for a moment, blue on green, before Castiel simply nodded and disappeared, leaving Dean again.
The hunt for the horsemen and finding a way to kill Lucifer lead the Winchesters to Bobby's house. They hit a dead end and were at the older hunter's house to do any research they could. Dean hated it when their hunts hit a dead end like this. He loved seeing Bobby, but going through all the books drove him crazy. He was a man of action; not words.
So Dean read all the books that Sam gave him and tried not to moan too much.
He was halfway through a huge book which was mostly in Latin when he groaned in frustration. The words were swimming around on the page and he couldn't make any sense of it. He got up, feeling a beer might help. He passed past Sam and Bobby who were both buried in books, and walked into the kitchen.
"Anyone want a beer?" He called into the living room as he opened the fridge.
"Get me one, boy," Bobby answered. Dean grabbed two bottles of beet and twisted one of the lids off, kicking the fridge door shut.
Dean froze as he felt a stab of pain go through his entire body. He gasped as he felt another one and then his back felt like it was on fire. A crash filled the room as he dropped the bottles, beer and glass going everywhere. The pain sent Dean to his knees as the room was lit with the blue light that erupted from his eyes and back. He held his head in his hands, a scream coming from his lips as he felt knives slicing and stabbing.
"Dean!" He heard Sam say and then he was there, kneeling in front of him. Dean grabbed hold of Sam's jacket, needing something to hold onto as his whole body spasmed in pain.
"Cas," he managed to say, panic running through him stronger then the pain, "something is really wrong."
All he could think of was Castiel. He was in serious trouble.
"We need to find him," Dean told Sam, looking up to Sam's worried face. Bobby was behind them, looking at Dean with shocked eyes. This was the first time he had seen Dean and Castiel's connection work like this, even though he knew all about it.
"You can't go anywhere Dean," Sam told him, "And we have no idea where he is."
"No, we have to," Dean begged, tears coming to his eyes as the pain still rushed through him. It felt like every single part of him was being stabbed with red hot rods, and he knew what that felt like. It felt like he was back in the pit. It would be like Alastair to make him believe that he was safe, just to drag him back into the pain and fire of the pit.
But then he heard a voice calling his name.
"Dean! Dean!"
"Cas?" Dean asked, looking around the kitchen to see if Castiel had appeared.
"Dean," Castiel's voice was quiet and Dean could hear the pain there. That frightened him. If Castiel was feeling pain as well then how bad were his injuries.
Dean squeezed his eyes shut as more pain went through him. He bit back another scream and bent his head down so he was nearly touching Sam's chest.
"Cas," Dean cried, needing the Angel to appear next to him. He needed to see him. To make sure he was ok and to treat him. Dean knew that these injuries were bad and he was terrified that if they didn't find him soon then something worse may happen.
"Cas," he nearly begged.
Suddenly there was a loud whooshing of air rushing around them and Dean looked up, hoping to see Castiel standing there.
Instead he found that Bobby and the kitchen had disappeared and he and Sam were kneeling in a large empty warehouse. It was dark and the only light was coming from Dean.
Lying in the middle of the warehouse was Castiel. Both Dean and Sam were too shocked to move or speak for a moment. Castiel was lying on his back, unconscious. His trench coat was torn and beneath him were two dark wings, stretched out to their full length which was about six feet each. They were covered in blood and torn in places. There were feathers everywhere, and Dean could see some white bones through the dark feathers and pink skin.
Dean shook his head, trying not to throw up from the pain and disgust of seeing Castiel like this. He rushed over, ignoring the crippling pain he was experiencing, and knelt down beside Castiel's still form.
"Oh my God! Cas!" He cried, scooping Castiel up in his arms and cradling him.
"Cas! Wake up! Cas!" Dean begged. Castiel didn't move and his head lolled back in Dean's arms.
"He's still alive Dean," Sam said beside him. Dean looked down to see that Castiel was in fact breathing. Sam lent forward to try and help get Castiel up, but Dean pulled him closer to himself.
"Don't touch him," Dean hissed, not wanting anymore harm to come to Castiel. Sam stepped back and looked around.
"This looks like a trap Dean," he told him, "We need to get away from here."
Without thinking about it, Dean reached forward and grabbed hold of Sam's wrist. Holding Castiel close, Dean squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again they were back in Bobby's kitchen.
Bobby swore, wheeling over to them. Dean let go of Sam and pulled Castiel close to his chest, burying his face in his hair as he held back tears of pain and fear.
"Cas! Cas!" He begged because maybe if he said it enough Castiel would wake up.
"Dean, let go, we need to treat him," Sam said, trying to pull him back.
"Cas!" Dean cried again, his whole body shaking. His back arched as a wave of immense pain filled him. A scream filled the room and he collapsed forward, darkness claiming him.
When Dean woke up the pain had dulled slightly, but only slightly. He was lying on his side and he felt warm, even though he was shivering. It took him a while to open his eyes. He hadn't felt this tired and in pain for a while. The thing that was covering him shifted slightly and his back spasmed in pain. He opened his eyes as he bit back a cry.
He was greeted by Castiel's sleeping form. He looked pale, and he was sweating slightly. He had dark purple shadows under his eyes and he whimpered in his sleep. He was lying on his stomach beside Dean and his wings were stretched out over the bed and Dean was under one. It was warm but Dean could see they were still damaged. Castiel hadn't healed yet.
"Cas?" Dean whispered, reaching a hand out and stroking the Angel's face. Castiel mumbled something and turned his head slightly so Dean's hand pressed more into his skin. Dean moved closer to him, careful of his wings, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Castiel was topless and his skin felt hot.
Dean watched him sleep for a little while, their faces close. Every time Castiel moved, no matter slight the movement, Dean moaned and winced as the pain was sent through him.
Dean could hear voices downstairs and he assumed they belonged to Sam and Bobby. Dean was reluctant to leave Castiel but he knew he needed to talk to his brother and Bobby.
Dean pushed Castiel's hair off his forehead and kissed his skin there. Castiel mumbled something again but Dean didn't hear what. He lent his forehead against Castiel's briefly, sighing softly. He then got up slowly, wincing as he accidently knocked Castiel's wing. As soon as he was away from the warmth of Castiel's wings, Dean was hit by chills. He started to shiver and he couldn't stop, so he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders.
It took his a while to leave the room because he didn't want to leave Castiel. He looked so fragile and pale. Someone had tried to mend his wings and they were just a mess of feathers, stitches and bandages. It took Dean about five minutes to tear his eyes from Castiel's face and leave the room. He slowly headed downstairs. He was really dizzy and lightheaded, and he had to lean on the wall so not fall over.
Sam and Bobby were in the living room and they fell silent as Dean appeared in the doorway, sickly looking and shivering.
"Dean," Sam said, sounded slightly relieved to see his brother up. He came over and helped him over to Bobby's bed. He looked worried as he sat Dean down.
"How are you feeling?" Sam asked.
"Like Hell," Dean answered honestly. He felt very close to it anyway. It was mostly the fear. It ate deep at him. He didn't know if Castiel was ok, or if he was going to be ok. He was also really angry. He was going to hunt down whoever did this and kill them with his bare hands.
"How comes you put us in the same bed?" Dean asked. He wasn't complaining but curious. There were enough rooms upstairs to put them in separate rooms, now that Bobby was sleeping downstairs. It would have made sense if they had put Castiel in Bobby's old room on the double bed and Dean in the spare room with the twin beds.
"Every time we tried to separate you two, you would scream and kick," Bobby told him, "We had to put you in the same room before you screamed the whole damn house down."
"I managed to stitch up most of the gashes in Castiel's wings, but I don't know the first thing about healing Angel's wings," Sam told him, "He doesn't seem to be healing."
Dean pulled the blanket closer around him and looked up to Sam. He could see in Sam's eyes that he was holding something back. Fear clutched Dean's heart as he asked,
"What is it?"
There was a silence for a long moment. Both Sam and Bobby looked grieve as they shared glances.
"Just tell me already, damnit!" Dean growled. Sam sighed nervously and answered.
"I did some research on Angel wings, there isn't much out there but is said that Angels use wings as a form of torture, but when wings are seriously damaged it can...it can..."
"What!?" Dean demanded.
Sam sighed again and rubbed his temple, looking away from Dean.
"The damage to the wings can cause massive trauma to the Angel's body, both his true form and his vassal," Bobby answered for him.
Dean shook his head, feeling colder than ever. He felt so cold it nearly burnt.
"No, he is fine," he said, denying what he already knew, "He...he's fine."
"Dean, his vitals are not looked good," Sam told him, "And neither are yours."
"He can't die," Dean mumbled, shaking his head, "We can help him."
"Only the Angels can save him and it was the Angels who did this to him."
"I know that!" Dean yelled, his head throbbing and his back pounding. It was nothing compared to the pain in his heart though, "But we have to do something, there has to be one Angel who will help."
"Who?" Sam asked.
"Michael!" Dean said, "I could get him to heal Cas in exchange for using my body as a vassal."
"You idjit," Bobby growled.
"Dean, you can't," Sam told him.
"Then what else!?" Dean yelled, "I can't let him die!"
The yelling made his head spin even more and he started to see double. He closed his eyes, leaning his head forward to rest in his hands. His whole body was shaking with chills and this made him feel extremely sick. He could taste the bile at the back of his throat. The room was silent and he could feel Sam and Bobby looking at him.
His mind was going about a million miles an hour as thousands of thoughts went through his head at once. He had to find a way to save Castiel. He had to!
And then his mind settled on something. His head snapped up as he thought it and Sam looked at him, knowing he had decided something.
"Gabriel," Dean said.
"Gabriel?" Bobby asked. Dean nodded.
"He can help us," he told them, "He knows all about this stuff."
"Dean, Cas has been trying to find Gabriel for months and he's found nothing," Sam told him.
"I'll pray," Dean said, determined, "He has to come! He has to!"
And before either of the other hunters could say anything, Dean placed his hands together and bowed his head.
"Gabriel..." He started nervously, "I know you haven't been in action for a while so you probably don't want to help someone like me but I really need your help...you're the only one that can help us; the other Angels are not going to help and... I just really need your help, it's Ca-"
Before Dean could say anymore, the sound of wings filled the room. Dean looked up to see the brown haired, sneaky grinned Trickster.
"I don't normally answer prays from annoying, needy men but when I heard Dean Winchester begging o' so sweetly I had to come at once," he said, smirking like the Cheshire Cat. Sam growled, standing up so he was in-between the Trickster and Dean.
"You're the Archangel Gabriel?" Dean asked, slightly in awe. So all Angels were dicks then?
All part from Castiel of course.
"Geez Dean," the Trickster, or Gabriel, said looking at him, "you looked better when hell hounds were after you, what happened?"
Dean scowled, standing up but not appearing as threatening as he wanted as he swayed on the spot. Gabriel looked at him then; really studied him. His eyes narrowed and he stepped closer. Sam stood in front of Dean though so Gabriel couldn't get near to him.
"Calm down Moose, I just need to take a look at hell boy here," Gabriel said, shoving Sam away with ease. He then got really close to Dean, nearly nose to nose, and stared right into his eyes.
"Do all Angels have a problem with personal space?" Dean scowled.
"Who is it?" Gabriel asked instead.
"What?" Dean asked, confused. Gabriel took a step back, a grin on his face, but his eyes looked angry; scared almost.
"The great Dean Winchester, hunter of all things supernatural, has connected his soul with an Angel's grace."
"How did you know?" Dean asked.
"It is clear from just looking at you," Gabriel answered, "And judging by the way you look, whoever you are connected to must be seriously hurt and that is why you called me here."
Dean nodded, stepping towards the Archangel.
"You can help, can't you?" He asked. Begged.
"Who is it?" Gabriel asked.
"Castiel, Angel of Thursday," Sam answered. Gabriel's eyes turned sad.
"Castiel was always curious about humans. When he was first created he used to ask me endless questions and we, along with a few other Angels, would watch them from the edge of heaven."
"He is upstairs," Dean told him, stepping closer and grabbing hold of Gabriel's shirt. He didn't care that this was the Trickster that had killed him hundreds of times and put Sam through hell. All he wanted was Castiel to get better.
"Show me him," Gabriel said. A surge of hope went through Dean and he nodded. He released the Archangel and rushed upstairs as fast as he could, which was not fast at all. He had to lean on the walls to keep himself standing. He entered the room and leant on the door frame as Gabriel pushed past.
"Who did this?" He demanded, looking at the state of Castiel's wings. He sounded furious and the lights seemed to flicker as his rage filled the room.
"The Angels," Dean answered, his anger matching Gabriel's.
"Dean is Michael's vassal," Sam told him, standing beside Dean, "the Angels are trying to force him to say yes and they are trying to use Cas to get to him."
Gabriel didn't say anything to that. He ran his hands gently over Castiel's wings, assessing the damage. Even though he was being gentle, Dean could still feel it and he bit his lip as his legs quivered from the pain.
"How could they do this to you, brother?" Gabriel whispered, before straightening up and saying, "He is dying."
"No," Dean yelled, stepping forward, despite the pain, "Save him! You killed me over hundred times; you owe us your help!"
"And I will give it to you," Gabriel told him, "But I can only help; you have to do most of the work."
"What?! I can't do anything," Dean exclaimed, confused, "If I could I would have done something already."
"When you connect with an Angel you gain some of their powers," Gabriel explained, rolling up his sleeves.
"That's why you could teleport yesterday," Sam told Dean. Gabriel nodded.
"You can teleport to where your soul mate is and back again, and you can also heal them," he explained.
Dean didn't argue. He just trusted the Archangel. He would trust nearly anyone right now if it meant saving Castiel. Dean stepped forward and Gabriel guided him to one side of Castiel's body and to one of his wings.
"Just place your hands on his wing and concentrate," Gabriel instructed and Dean followed. Castiel's wings were soft and warm.
"This is going to be painful for Castiel, so the pain you are going to feel is going to be indescribable, but you have to keep your hands on his wings, ok?" Gabriel told him. Dean nodded.
"And you, Moose," Gabriel said, turning to Sam, "You can't come near, otherwise it won't work."
Sam nodded slowly and crossed his arms.
Gabriel walked to the other side of Castiel and placed his hands opposite Dean's, before looking up to meet the human's eyes.
"Ready?" Gabriel asked. Dean bit his lip and nodded. He looked down at Castiel's pale face and dark wings and closed his eyes, concentrating on a single thought.
Heal Cas.
The room filled with blue and white light as both Dean and Gabriel's hands lit up.
Dean could feel the muscle and skin knitting back together and bones snapping together. It was all he could do not to scream. He had felt pain like this before in hell. After every day, after all the cutting and slicing and breaking they would rebuild him just so they could restart in the morning. Dean would feel all the bones clicking back together and the skin stitching back together. His limbs would re-grow and his swollen skin would shift back to normal.
It was as bad as the torture and this felt the same.
No, it didn't. It felt worse. Dean's back arched in pain, a cry of pain erupting from his mouth. He could feel every movement, every tear and stab and rip coming back together.
"Dean!" He faintly heard Sam call.
"Stay back!" Gabriel ordered.
Dean could feel himself getting weaker and the urge to throw up came back. He opened his eyes and saw that another light had joined the blue and white lights. Castiel was now glowing green. His eyes were open and he was looking up at Dean, pain in his eyes.
Dean wanted to comfort him in some way, to say it was going to be ok, but he couldn't. Every time he opened his mouth a scream would creep through instead. His legs were shaking and he fell over onto the bed. His hands stayed on Castiel's wing, but they were slipping. His head was spinning from all the lights and pain.
Shadows suddenly came up around him as Castiel raised his wings.
Dean panicked as he got a flashback of darkness, pain and heat. He shook and closed his eyes again, blocking out the shadows, but Castiel's blue eyes as well.
Dean thought he heard a laugh, a cruel, nasally laugh. He shook his head, but the pain was unbelievable.
"Dean?" He heard Castiel say but it sounded far away.
"You can stop now, Dean," Gabriel said.
Dean wanted to open his eyes to see if Castiel was ok but he couldn't manage it. He felt too weak, so he just let his body go. He was unconscious before he was even lying down.
Dean woke with a shout, sitting up and looking around, breathing heavily.
"Dean?"
Castiel was lying in the bed next to him; his face pale but otherwise looking ok. His wings were gone. Dean looked at him, trying to remember what he had dreamt about. All he could remember was pain and a laugh. Castiel sat up and Dean remembered his wings and Gabriel's words,
'He's dying.'
Dean leant forward and wrapped his arms around Castiel, tears forming in his eyes. Castiel hugged back tightly and Dean buried his face into his neck, hiding his face and tears.
"It's ok Dean, I'm ok," Castiel whispered softly.
"I thought... I thought..." Dean said, crying for the first time in ages.
"I know, but I'm ok," Castiel told him, "You saved me."
Castiel rubbed his back in smoothing circles. Dean clutched Castiel's shirt in tight fists, needing to hold onto something so he didn't fall apart. It was too much. It was all too much.
It took Dean a while to calm down. Castiel had got him to lie down and they were curled together side by side.
"Who did this to you?" Dean asked once his tears had stopped. Castiel stroked Dean's brown hair for a little while. It was such a human gesture that Dean wondered where he had learnt it from.
"Zachariah and his garrison," he answered finally, "I believe they found out about our connection and tried to use it to bring you to them."
"Sons of bitches," Dean hissed, his fists clutching, "I'm going to kill them with my bare hands."
Normally Castiel would say something about that being impossible and them being sons of God, but he kept silent. He knew by now when to let Dean have his rants and outbursts.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that because of me," Dean whispered, looking away from Castiel's face and looking at his chest instead. He picked at the fabric there.
"The pain I felt was nothing compared to what you felt," Castiel told him. Dean winced, remembering it. He stayed quiet, burying himself into Castiel's chest. He didn't care that they were so physically close or that he seemed needy. Dean needed the touches and to be close to Castiel. It was like a drug.
"There is something that you are hiding from me," Castiel said. It wasn't a question but a statement. He could read Dean like a book.
A little more of the dream came back then. Black eyes and twisted faces. Cold steel and chains. Knives and fire. He flinched again, curling closer to Castiel if that was even possible. He could still feel the heat of the fires against his skin and smell the blood. If he shut his eyes he could still see Alastair's white eyes and blood stained teeth.
"Dean?" Castiel asked, his voice filled with concern. He lifted Dean's face up gently, caressing his cheek with his thumb.
"What's wrong?" Castiel asked gently. Dean didn't look at the Angel as he answered.
"The pain... it was so bad, worse than a lot of things I experienced in hell... most things actually..." he said and then shivered, "I... I thought I was back there and all of this..." He said this while he looked around the room before settling his eyes on Castiel, "...was a trick."
"What do you think now?" Castiel asked.
Dean flinched as he heard Alastair's laugh again.
"I don't know," he admitted.
"Listen to me Dean," Castiel said, almost desperately. He cupped Dean's face and forced him to look at him. Dean looked into his blue eyes, feeling tears in his eyes again.
"Alastair can't make me up," Castiel told him, "I am real and you need to remember that."
Dean nodded.
"I will."
"No matter what happens, remember me," Castiel told him, and Dean was shocked to see tears glistening in the Angel's blue eyes.
"Everything that has happened in the last year happened, you were here, on Earth," Castiel continued, "I got you out of hell."
He moved his hand down until it was resting on the scar on Dean's arm.
"I gave this to you when I pulled you out; I rebuilt you and I have been by your side since."
"I won't forget you, Cas," Dean promised, feeling freaked out at the way Castiel was reacting.
"Yes, but will you forget that I am real?" Castiel asked.
"Of course not," Dean told him, "How could I?"
But he had. When he had been feeling that pain, Dean had thought he was back in hell, before he had even met Castiel.
Dean didn't want to think about that though so he buried his head in Castiel's chest again, smelling his scent. Castiel slowly stroked Dean's back in small circles. It was nice and Dean found himself drafting off. Every time he realised he was nearly asleep he would shake himself awake again.
"What's wrong?" Castiel asked as Dean opened his eyes and shook his head. Dean felt stupid and pathetic for admitting it but he answered,
"I am tired but I don't want to go to sleep."
"Why not?" Castiel asked. Dean turned his head so he could look into the blue eyes of Castiel. They seemed calm and endless. They were real; definitely real.
"I don't want to dream," Dean told him. There was not judgement in them blue eyes, just understanding.
"I will help you then," Castiel told him. He reached out a hand and caressed Dean's face gently. Dean closed his eyes and lent into the touch. He fell asleep instantly.
When Dean woke the next morning, Castiel was still beside him but he had his eyes closed and looked asleep. Dean was lying on his back and Castiel was lying on his side, one arm over Dean's stomach protectively and his face against Dean's arm.
Dean watched him for a few minutes, wondering if Castiel was meant to be sleeping. He looked peaceful though, and with his nose pressed against Dean's arm, he looked adorable.
After a little while Dean started to get a thirst. He wasn't thirsty for water though, but something stronger. He normally had this thirst first thing in the morning. A shot or two or whisky each morning took the edge off. Dean felt he could function properly again.
So Dean carefully slipped out of the bed and went over to his bag which was against the wall. He bent down and unzipped it, getting the flask out. He took a gulp, sighing as the bitter liquid went down his throat.
"Should you be drinking this early?"
Dean jumped and turned around. Castiel was still lying down on his side but his eyes were open. The sunlight coming through the window made his eyes shine brighter than usual. He was wearing a black t-shirt that Dean recognised as one of his old AC/DC tops, and his hair was slightly more messy than usual. All Dean could think about was how beautiful he was.
"It...It's fine," Dean mumbled, putting his flask back in his bag and going back to the bed. He sat on the edge and looked at Castiel.
"How are you wings?" Dean asked. Castiel rolled onto his back and sat up. He looked so human in his movements that it freaked Dean out. Maybe it was the AC/DC t-shirt.
"You healed them completely," Castiel told him, that small smile on his face, "Thank you."
"I didn't want you to die," Dean shrugged.
"How are you feeling?" Castiel asked.
"Ok," Dean lied. Physically he felt fine. The pain had completely gone and his head wasn't spinning, but he still felt shook up about the dreams and flashbacks of hell. He knew that he was back on Earth, but they had felt so real.
Before Castiel could say anything else though, the door burst open and Gabriel walked in holding a tray full of food. Sam walked in behind him carrying two mugs of coffee and looking grumpy. He smiled in relief when he saw Dean awake though. Dean forced himself to smile back. He knew that Sam would have been really worried about him.
"Finally, you two are awake," Gabriel grinned, setting the food down next to Dean.
"How long have we been asleep?" Dean asked.
"Nearly two days," Sam answered, giving a coffee to both Dean and Castiel and then sitting down on a chair that was near the door. Gabriel lent against the windowsill, crossing his arms and looking at Dean and Castiel.
"How am I not dying of hunger and thirst?" Dean asked, taking one of the plates of food that was piled high with bacon, sausages, eggs, toast and fried potato.
"Castiel's grace has been given you nutrients," Gabriel answered. Dean handed Castiel the other plate, giving him a small smile as he did so. Castiel took the plate and looked at it questionable. Dean rolled his eyes and gave him a fork.
"Just humour me," he told the Angel, before looking back at his brother and Gabriel.
"So what have you found out about this connection thing then?" He asked Sam.
"Nothing," Sam sighed, "He wouldn't tell me anything without you two there."
"You still moaning about that?" Gabriel asked, rolling his eyes, "He really doesn't like being left out, does he?"
Sam scowled at him, but decided not to say anything.
"So," Dean said through a mouthful of eggs, "Can you tell us about the connection soul bonding thing, because we have no idea how to handle this."
"Well, I'm guessing you know how it was caused," Gabriel started, "you two got close and your soul," He gestured to Dean, "and your grace," he gestured to Castiel, "bonded together so they merged into one."
"It forms a strong bond, stronger than anything else; you share each other's pain and the human gets some of the Angel's powers, can share thoughts and they can make each other stronger," Gabriel continued, "But there can be some drawbacks as well."
"Like what?" Sam asked.
"Over protective much?" Gabriel teased, before turning back to Dean and Castiel. Dean had stopped stuffing his face and was listening to Gabriel. Castiel was also looking at the Archangel intently.
"When the Angel and human are kept apart for too long they become ill and depressed, and the connection weakens the Angel's connections to heaven."
Dean looked at Castiel, who didn't look surprised at this piece of news.
"What does that mean?" Dean asked.
"It means that my powers will slowly go and eventually my connection with heaven will disappear completely and I will fall," Castiel answered, looking at Dean.
"What!?" The hunter exclaimed, "Why doesn't this bother you?"
Castiel shrugged, taking a bite out of a sausage. Dean watched as his lips went around the piece of meat. Dean shook his head and glared at him.
"My connection is already weakened because of my rebellion, I am already falling, Dean," Castiel told him. Dean shook his head again, anger filling him.
"Why didn't you tell me!?" He demanded.
"I didn't want you to worry," Castiel answered calmly, "There is nothing you can do to stop it and it won't happen for a long time anyway, so please don't worry."
Dean clutched his fists and took a deep breath. He will just have to discuss it with Castiel later.
"So how do we break the connection?" Sam asked and Dean had to stop himself from snapping at him. It just felt like Sam was obsessed with breaking his and Castiel's connection. Like it was such a bad thing. If it wasn't for Castiel falling, Dean wasn't sure if he wanted to break it.
Gabriel sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. It was a very human gesture and it made Dean wonder how long it took for an Archangel to fall.
"There is only one way to break a soul connection," Gabriel answered, "And it is to get either the human or the Angel to hate the other."
"What?" Dean frowned, "But...that's impossible."
"It's been done," Gabriel answered. Dean looked up at him and he could see the sorrow on Gabriel's face.
"But before Moose here starts conspiring to get you to hate Castiel, I must warn you," he said, briefly looking at the scowling Sam, "when the connection breaks, the human can't deal with the huge change and... and dies."
The room was silent after that. Both the hunters looked shocked and Castiel was looking mournfully at his brother.
"What was her name, brother?" Castiel asked. Gabriel laughed hollowly.
"No one has ever asked me that," he answered, "no one cared."
"Well, we care," Dean told him, because even though the Archangel was a dick, Dean could see the pain embedded in his eyes. Gabriel looked at him with sad brown eyes. They looked old and too full of knowledge.
"Her name was Elizabeth," he answered quietly, "but I use to call her Liz."
"What happened?" Dean asked. Gabriel sighed and crossed his arms before starting his story.
"She lived with her Mother in the 11th Century; she was 16 when her Mother was raped and became pregnant, she died giving birth to the baby and Liz had to raise him," Gabriel took a deep breath and continued, "when the boy was five he grew ill and died; I had been watching over Earth as that was the duty given to me by God, so I saw when she walked to a cliff top to jump off; I caught her, leaving two handprints on her shoulders," Gabriel then smiled slightly, looking down at his feet, "I put her to sleep and then found my vassal, a dying Preacher who wanted to serve God in his afterlife. I went back to Liz and told her that I saved her; she was so angry, she hit me and cursed me and she looked so beautiful, she had long blonde hair and blue eyes, I fall in love with her straight away, but it took her slightly longer."
Gabriel rubbed the back of his head and continued.
"My brothers, Michael especially, had always thoughtI was too close to humans, so when they found out that I had developed a soul connection they were furious and tried to break the connection by keeping us apart, but we just got sick and I fought and got back to her."
"What did they do?" Castiel asked, his voice small. Dean turned to him to see his face paler then usual and his eyes looking scared. Dean saw his hand reaching towards his own, almost subconsciously. Dean took his hand and squeezed. Castiel kept looking at Gabriel but squeezed back.
Dean looked back to the Archangel who was looking at Castiel and Dean's entangled hands. Dean would normally feel self-conscious at showing any kind of affection in front of other people, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
"They gave her visions," Gabriel answered, "Visions of me killing her Mother and her brother just so I could get her all to myself; they were so intense that she believed them and hated me, and our bond broke."
Gabriel turned around and stared out of the window. His trademark Trickster smile had gone, replaced by years of sorrow and grief.
"Her body couldn't cope with the lose and slowly shut down; she died still hating me and I never returned to heaven."
The room was silent and a blink later Gabriel had disappeared in a flap of wings.
"Where do you think he went?" Dean asked quietly.
"He's been angel and demon proofing the whole place for days now," Sam answered, "Maybe he's gone to check on them."
He said that quietly. Dean and Sam were no strangers to grief. They understood it all too well, but they had never been betrayed by each other.
"I'll fill Bobby in," Sam said and then left Dean and Castiel alone.
"That won't happen to us," Dean reassured Castiel.
"It could," the Angel told him. Dean looked at him and was shocked to see Castiel shaking and looking scared.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Dean asked, scooting closer and wrapping his arms around Castiel's shoulders.
"They know about our connection," Castiel told him, "The Angels know and they're going to try and break it." He clutched Dean's t-shirt tightly and looked up at him, his eyes wide and full of fear.
"They're going to give you visions and you will hate me."
Dean shook his head.
"I could never hate you, Cas," he promised, "never."
"I don't want you to die," Castiel pleaded.
"I've been in hell, Cas, nothing them Angels throw at me can compare."
He held Castiel close, worrying his lip. This display of very obvious human emotion showed how far Castiel had already fallen.
"Stop worrying about me; doesn't it concern you that you're falling?"
"Do not blame yourself," Castiel told him, leaning back and looking at Dean with his blue eyes, "I was already falling before we connected."
"Because you rebelled for me," Dean argued.
"Not for you, for humanity," Castiel told him, "Lucifer was escaping and I knew my orders were wrong, I knew my Father wouldn't want Lucifer to take over his most loved creation."
"I was the one that convinced you to though," Dean told him, "You are going to fall because of me."
"It doesn't matter, Dean," Castiel tried to reassure him.
"It does Cas! It does matter!" Dean yelled, shaking with anger and fear.
"It doesn't Dean," Castiel smiled, "If I fall then I can grow old with you, I don't have to watch you age and then die."
"You... you want to fall?" Dean asked, clutching Castiel's arms tightly. Castiel reached up and cupped Dean's face. He turned his face into Castiel's hand.
"I want to be with you, Dean," he answered. Dean shook his head, dislodging Castiel's hand.
"I can't... I can't take it, Cas, I can't shoulder the guilt of you falling along with everything else."
"Then don't, it's not your fault Dean," Castiel told him, cupping his cheek again. He had that small smile on his face again. The one that Dean adored. The one he dreamt about.
He knew the guilt wouldn't go, and so did Castiel, but it was probably best to leave it for now. They had to deal with one problem at a time, and Lucifer had to be dealt with at the moment.
So Dean just nodded and sighed. Castiel's hand felt soft and warm and he leant into it again. Castiel's thumb slowly stroked Dean's cheek.
They were really close to each other. Dean could feel Castiel's breath on his cheek and it smelt sweet. Without realising it, Dean shifted closer and reached up to touch Castiel's face. His chin was rough with stubble but his cheek was smooth. The combination was weird but Dean liked it. It felt very Cas-like. He found himself looking at Castiel's lips. They were slightly parted and looked soft.
"Dean," Castiel whispered as they moved closer. Dean's eyes flickered from Castiel's lips to his blue eyes.
They lips were almost touching when a bang at the door broke them apart. They straightened up and their hands went to their laps. Dean stood up, his cheeks red.
"Yeah," he called, rubbing his neck and facing away from Castiel.
Sam walked in, oblivious to what he had interrupted.
"Bobby wants to make sure you're ok, but he can't-," Sam started, not noticing Dean's red cheeks and Castiel's disappointed look, "-he can't get up the stairs."
Dean nodded.
"I'll be down in a sec, just let me shower and stuff," Dean told him. Sam just nodded and left.
Dean closed his eyes and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He then reopened his eyes and grabbed his towel. He turned around and saw Castiel looking at him. Dean smiled at him.
"I'll be down soon," he told the Angel. As he walked past Castiel, he ran his hand down his arm. He saw Castiel give a small smiled, almost hidden. It made Dean chuckle as he left the room and went to the bathroom.
Dean lingered in the shower, thinking about what nearly happened.
He and Castiel had nearly kissed!
Dean had never kissed a guy before. He had never thought about guys that way before. He couldn't decide if he had always felt this way about Castiel or if it was because of the connection. He must have felt the attraction beforehand, otherwise it wouldn't have formed. He just hadn't realised.
But it must have always been there, ever since Castiel had pulled him from hell.
Dean remembered Castiel walking through that barn door and thinking he was this amazingly powerful being. Dean hadn't known he was an Angel at that point but he knew he wasn't a demon.
And that night in Bobby's kitchen. Castiel had been so close and so powerful and dominate. It had pissed Dean off, but also caused a warm, exciting feeling deep in him. He had thought it was anger at the time, but he knew better now as he still had the same feeling.
Dean closed his eyes, leaning his head up so the water ran down his face. He thought of Castiel's blue eyes and his long fingers over his body. Dean thought of his smile and his dark feathers.
A noise at the door broke Dean's thoughts.
"Yeah?" Dean asked, sticking his had out of the shower curtain. There was a sound at the bottom of door, like a dog sniffing at the gap. Dean frowned and turned off the water. He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, before opening the door.
Nothing and no one was there. The hallway was empty. He frowned again and went to the bedroom to get dressed.
Castiel was in the living room with Bobby and Sam when Dean walked in bare chested and rubbing his hair with his towel.
"Put a damn shirt on, idjit," Bobby grumbled. Dean grinned, pulling his shirt out of the back of his jeans. He looked at Castiel, whose eyes were lingering on his chest. He realised Dean was looking at him and blushed. Dean winked at him, finding it amusing that had had made an Angel of the Lord blush.
"Have you adopted a dog or something?" Dean asked, pulling his shirt on.
"I've got enough strays with you lot, I don't need another one," Bobby answered.
"Oh," Dean said, confused, "I swear I heard one upstairs."
He just shrugged it off though. He didn't notice Castiel looking at him worried.
Sam and Bobby filled them in with the information that Gabriel had given them about Lucifer and the research that they had done while they had been unconscious. Castiel decided it was best if he stayed with them as he didn't want the Angels to catch him again. Dean was glad of this but wasn't glad when Sam shoved a load of books in his face and told him to help research.
Gabriel turned up the next day and assured them that the Angels or any demons could get into Bobby's land. To them the place didn't even exist anymore. The wards he had placed around the house and junkyard recognised himself and Castiel as friendly forces though so they were able to stay there.
It meant that none of them part from Gabriel could leave thought and that drove Dean mad.
They did research and Gabriel did his best to sort out Lucifer's aftermath. Despite trying to keep up with his older brother, Lucifer was too fast and killed a lot of people. He seemed to realise that Gabriel was trying to find him and was taunting him by leaving a thick trail but disappearing suddenly every time Gabriel turned up.
Sam was doing his best to keep track of unusual patterns in weather or animal behaviour, or just anything that could indicate where Lucifer or any of the horsemen could be. Bobby was researching how to kills the horsemen and Castiel was helping Gabriel with the plans to kill Lucifer, even though Gabriel wouldn't let his little brother leave.
Dean tried to do research and help but he just seemed to get in the way so he was banned from the house and Bobby ordered him to go work on some of the cars instead. That was fine with Dean. It was sunny and working on something that didn't include words was what he needed. Working with his hands was what he was good at.
He had his head inside that boot of an old Ford one afternoon when he heard a bark. He lifted his head up to see a black tail disappear behind a pile of cars. He frowned, taking a step forward to get a closer look.
"Beer?" A voice behind him asked. Dean turned to see Gabriel holding a beer to him. Dean nodded, taking it and twisting the lid off.
"How's it going in there?" He asked.
"The tension is high," Gabriel told him, "It's wise to be out here."
"Do you think you'll get him?" Dean asked, leaning back against the boot of the car. Gabriel sighed and leant against the workbench. He looked tired and worn, and Dean could see the haunted look in his eyes.
"Lucie is clever but he gets too cocky and he will begin to make mistakes and I will get him," Gabriel said, but his words were weighted.
"But?" Dean asked, knowing Gabriel wasn't saying something. Gabriel looked up at him with hard brown eyes.
"The reason I spent so much time watching you humans was because my brothers and sisters were always fighting," he told Dean, "It started with Michael and Lucifer and it just kept going, so I sat on the side of heaven and watched over Earth; that was why God gave me the duty of delivering his massagers to humans because I was the one Angel hat loved them like he did," he sighed and rubbed his temple, "When I bonded with Liz I was so happy and ready to fall but my brothers couldn't accept that and they forced the bond to break. I was furious but I came back to heaven because Liz didn't want me near her, but she got sick and I went back to her but she wouldn't even look at me. She died and Michael met me at heaven's gates. I thought he had come to consol me but he told me it was for the best and to forget about her, so I left heaven, hid myself and never went back."
"So you hate your family?" Dean asked. Gabriel shook his head.
"No, quite the opposite," he answered, "I love my Father and I love all my brothers and sisters, including Michael who tore my only love away and Lucifer who rebelled against our Father and twists damned souls into unrecognisable monsters; I still love him and I have to kill him. Can you imagine how that feels, the knowledge that you have to kill your brother?"
Dean swallowed and nodded, looking down at his feet. He could never kill Sam, no matter what he had done. Thinking about it made him feel sick.
"I'm sorry you have to do this," he said quietly and he honestly meant it.
"He has killed hundreds of humans already and Michael won't want you as a vassal while you're bonded with Castiel and if they break it you will die and Castiel will have to live for eternity with that grief and I can't stand the thought of my little brother going through that," Gabriel told him, "and I really don't want Lucie to destroy Earth. I quite like living with you lot and I know our Father does not want this apocalypse to happen."
Dean took a long gulp of his beer and Gabriel did the same. It was slightly amusing to see an Angel drinking alcohol.
"Do you think the other Angels will try and break mine and Castiel's bond?" Dean asked, thinking of the things he kept seeming to see and hear. He woke in the middle of the night to howling. He went to the window to see only darkness. He had stared out of it for a while and two red eyes appeared in the darkness, staring up at him.
Castiel had appeared next to him, as if sensing something was wrong. Dean had jumped and cursed him before looking back out the window. The eyes had disappeared.
Dean had been having nightmares as well. Dreams of things that had happened in hell. Alastair mostly, and fire. Lots of fire. He woke up, drenched in sweat and panting. He saw things out of the corner of his eye and heard barking and growling.
Castiel seemed to always be hovering around him and he was worried. Dean knew he was and it was hard to tell them blue eyes to leave him alone. It was like kicking a sad puppy.
"Does it worry you?" Gabriel asked.
Dean thought of them blue eyes and how much grief was already in them from just thinking about their connection breaking. Dean couldn't bear the thought of that look always being there.
"Yes," Dean admitted.
"They will try but that doesn't mean they will succeed," Gabriel told him. Dean nodded and downed the rest of his beer.
"Can I ask you a question?" He asked the Archangel.
"Fire ahead, Grease Monkey."
"Does the connection...make you develop... feelings?" Dean asked, thinking of the inappropriate thoughts he had been having. Gabriel smiled knowingly.
"Having thought you never thought you'll have?" He chuckled, downing his beer and putting down on the workbench. Another two appeared in his hands and he gave one to Dean with a grin.
"The connection doesn't give you feelings, it just makes the ones you have more obvious," Gabriel told him. Dean nodded, easily accepting the truth.
Castiel suddenly appeared next to him, holding a plate of sandwiches. Dean jumped, spilling his beer down his front.
"Can't you walk Cas!" He growled but there was no real conviction in his tone. Castiel looked at him and smiled. It caught Dean off guard and he stared at him longer then he probably should have.
"It is quite amusing seeing you jump every time," Castiel told him. Dean chuckled and took a sandwich off the plate. He didn't notice that Gabriel had disappeared.
Castiel spent the next couple of hours with him as Dean attempted to teach him about the different parts of a car. It was long work but enjoyable. He almost forgot about fire and white eyes and ignored the dogs that seemed to be stalking him.
Being with Castiel made him forgot about his problems and relax. Everything else seemed far away when Castiel was beside him in his trench coat and that small, subtle smile on his face.
But Castiel couldn't always be by his side and the nightmares kept occurring.
He woke that night with a scream. He was drenched in sweat and felt so hot that I felt like his blood was boiling. It was dark in the room and he felt like he was suffocating as the covers trapped his legs together. He heard a growl in the darkness and he froze. As he looked into the black, two red eyes appeared and the growling started again.
"No," Dean whispered as they came closer. He tried kicking the sheets off but they just got more tangled. He grabbed the knife which he always kept under his pillow and held it towards the eyes with shaky hands.
"Stay away from me!" Dean yelled as it slowly stalked towards him.
The door flew open and light flooded into the room. Sam and Castiel were standing there, looking in at him. Dean looked at them briefly before looking back at the eyes.
But they were gone. The light from the door lit up the whole room and it was empty.
"Dean?" Sam asked, stepping into the room.
Dean untangled his legs and got out of the bed, still holding the knife up.
"Dean?" Sam asked again as Dean checked the room.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked, worried that his brother hadn't said anything.
"I thought I saw something," Dean told him once he was sure the room was really empty. He looked out of the window and saw the red eyes looking up at him.
He jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Sam was standing behind him, looking out of the window as well. The eyes were still there but Sam didn't seem to see them.
Dean tore his eyes away from the red eyes and his eyes landed on Castiel. He was still standing at the door. His eyes seemed wide and fearful, probably matching Dean's.
"It must have been a dream," he reassured them, putting the knife down and closing the curtains. Sam still looked worried, while Castiel looked terrified.
"I'm fine, it was just a dream," Dean lied, patting Sam on the back to reassure him, "Sorry I woke you."
Sam nodded, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder in a comforting gesture before leaving the room.
"Stop looking at me like that, I'm fine Cas," Dean sighed, sitting down on the bed, his eyes on his knife as he assessed whether it was near enough or not.
"What did you see?" Castiel asked, coming nearer so he was standing over Dean.
"Nothing, it was a dream," he told him, tired. He rubbed his temple, leaning his head down as he felt the weight of sleep on his shoulders.
"Dean, if you're seeing things you should tell us," Castiel told him.
"It's just nightmares!" Dean told him. He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Castiel or himself. He looked up and his eyes softened as he met Castiel's blue eyes.
"The pain just caused my nightmares to resurface," Dean told him, "They will go soon."
Castiel nodded and sat down next to him on the bed.
"Do you want me to help?" He asked. Dean didn't say anything but pulled at his arm until they were lying side by side, ignoring the fact that Castiel was still wearing his trench coat and shoes.
"Do you want me to close the door?" He asked. Dean shook his head, needing the light for the first time since he was a child. He faced Castiel so he couldn't see anything else part from tanned trench coat and blue tie. Dean closed his eyes as Castiel rubbed his arm slowly. There was a sudden rush of air and Dean snapped his eyes open as he felt warmth surround him.
Castiel had released his wings and one was covering Dean's body. It was the first time he had seen them without all the damage. He looked at them awe.
"They're beautiful," Dean whispered. Castiel smiled, moving his wing so the tip stroked Dean's cheek. As the soft, sleek feather ran over his skin, Dean's breath hitched. It felt amazing.
"You can touch them...if you want," Castiel told him, sounding nervous.
Dean was nervous as well, he knew how fragile the wings were and he was scared that he might hurt Castiel. He reached out but hesitated. Castiel, as if sensing Dean's worried, took his hand and guided it so his hand was pressed against the black feathers. They felt so soft.
"Wow," Dean breathed, rubbing his hand through the long feathers, his fingers caressing the wings. Castiel sighed, closing his eyes and relaxing. It was the first time he seemed this relaxed and laid back. A soft moan fell from his lips as Dean dug his fingers in a little bit.
"Feels nice?" Dean grinned. Castiel nodded and smiled, keeping his eyes closed as he leant his head down on the pillow beside Dean. They were so close that Dean could feel Castiel's breath on his cheek. Dean smiled, leaning his heard down so his forehead was resting against Castiel's.
The red eyes were forgotten for now.
As Dean continued to stroke Castiel's wings, something came loose. Dean looked into his hand to see a black feather in his palm. It wasn't the longest and was about the length of his hand. Dean looked at it, shocked.
"I'm so sorry!" He said, his voice shaking with guilt. Castiel opened his eyes and followed Dean's glance to the feather. The Angel smiled.
"Sometimes they just come out," he explained, "it doesn't hurt and another one with grow in its place."
"So I didn't hurt you?" Dean asked. Castiel shook his head and then covered Dean's hand with his, closing Dean's hand over the feather.
"Keep it," Castiel told him. Dean smiled, pulling their hands up so he could kiss Castiel's knuckles. He then leant his forehead back against Castiel's and closed his eyes. Castiel wrapped his wing around Dean's body, keeping him warm and surrounding him in dark feathers. Dean fell asleep feeling safe in Castiel's hold.
The next day Dean was back in the yard, fixing up a car.
He had slept really well that night, embraced in Castiel's body and wings, and he was in a good mood. It was sunny bit there was a cool breeze making working outside pleasant. He had grease on his hands and a smile on his face.
His head was buried in the trunk of a car when his mood changed. He heard a bark and his head snapped up. He looked out over the stacks of cars. He didn't see anything but he heard another bark. He reached for his knife, which was at the side of his belt. He moved slowly, his fingers tightening over his knife.
The barking had stopped but he could hear growling. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he edged around a stack of old cars. He peered around them and his blood ran cold.
Standing there was not just one but two hell hounds.
He recognised them from his time in hell. They didn't really look like dogs, with no fur and skin pulled tight over every bone. The ribs stuck out violently and the grey skin looked nearly transparent. One had no skin over its head and its skill was completely visible, its teeth sharp and its eye sockets black and empty but still staring at Dean. The other had some skin worn away around the ribs and back so its spine was visible.
They were both looking at Dean, growling low in their throats. Dean started to shake as he held the knife out defensively. He didn't take his eyes off the dogs as he slowly backed away. The one with just a skull lifted his head up and barked, while the other hutched down and growled. The bark made Dean jump backwards and both the hounds prepared to pounce. Dean realised this and turned and ran.
He heard the hounds chasing behind him, snapping at his heels. He ran past the workbench and on his way past pulled the tool box over in the hope it would slow the hounds down. He heard a yelp as he jumped up the steps on the porch and ran through the back door. He slammed it shut behind him. Sam, who was sitting at the kitchen table, looked up in surprised as Dean locked the door, panting.
"Dean, what's wrong?" Sam asked as Dean rushed to the cupboard and grabbed the salt in there. He poured some over the windowsill and then rushed back to the door, lining the bottom.
"Dean?" Sam asked, coming up behind him. Dean jumped as Sam placed his hand on his shoulder.
"They're out there," Dean hissed, peering out of the window through the curtains. He could see the two hounds stalking around the yard. Sam looked out as well and frowned.
"There's nothing there," he told Dean.
"You can't see them because they're hell hounds, but I can because I saw them in the pit," Dean whispered. Sam looked at him, worry all over his face.
"Dean, there's nothing there," Sam told him. Dean glared at him.
"Of course there is, I'm not blind or stupid, Sam!" Dean told him, anger in his tone, "I know what I see."
"What's going on?" Castiel asked from behind them. Dean jumped, hiding the bag of salt behind his back.
"No...nothing," Dean said, paling. Castiel could read through that though.
"Dean thinks he can see-Ouch!" Sam started before Dean stood on his foot.
"Can see what?" Castiel asked, concerned.
"Nothing," Dean told him, faking a smile, "There's nothing else out there, I just came in to grab a beer and have a word with Sam."
He edged forward, stuffing the salt down the back of his trousers and hiding the bag under his shirt. He went to the fridge, ignoring the fact that his hands were shaking violently as he grabbed the beer.
"What's going on?" Gabriel asked, coming in to the kitchen and looking at Dean, who was pale and still breathing heavily, his heart beating very fast. His eyes kept flicking to the window and then to the three people in the kitchen. He was shaking and sweating.
"Nothing is going on!" Dean said, throwing his arms up and avoiding Castiel's glance, "Geez, can't a guy just have a word with his brother without a million questions?"
He grabbed Sam then and began to drag him out of the room. Castiel grabbed his arm on the way past though. Dean kept his head down as the Angel spoke.
"Dean, if something is happening, please tell me," Castiel begged. Dean closed his eyes briefly before putting his fake smile back on and looking up. Castiel's eyes seemed to hold more fear than him and they were glistening.
"I'm fine, Cas, nothing is happening," Dean reassured him and then pulled his arm away from Castiel's grip. Ignoring his hurt look, Dean moved away and pulled Sam upstairs.
"Why aren't you telling Cas?" Sam asked as Dean shoved him into the bedroom and shut the door. Dean didn't answer for a couple of minutes as he salted the door and window.
"Because he's worried enough," he said, looking out the window and seeing the hounds looking at him. He backed away slowly and bumped into Sam.
"Dean, you need to tell him and Gabriel, this is a trick," Sam told him.
"I know it's a trick!" Dean snapped. The problem was he couldn't figure out which part was a trick; the hounds or everything else. He didn't know who was causing the trick; the Angels of Alastair. Normally when it came to his life, the worst case scenario was true, so still being in hell seemed a lot more possible than being on Earth with the people he loved.
"You need to tell Cas," Sam told him.
"No, I don't! What I need is you to go salt the rest of the house and not say a word about this," Dean growled, shoving the rest of the bag of salt into Sam's hands, "Tell Cas I have violent diarrhoea or something and that I want to be left alone."
"They might be able to help," Sam said, his tone soft. Dean just shook his head, licking his lips nervously. He trailed his eyes over his brother, trying to imprint the image of him forever in his memory. He didn't knew how longer he'll be in this world. Last time he was hell he forgot Sam's face by the time he agreed to get off the rack.
"I'm fine Sam," Dean tried to reassure him, but his words were getting caught in his throat, "They're just flashbacks, they will go away soon."
Sam nodded slowly and squeezed Dean's shoulder. Dean closed his eyes at the contact.
It felt real.
He wanted it to be real
Please be real.
Sam left without another word and Dean downed his beer in one. He then dug around in his bag and pulled out a bottle of whisky. He took a swig and sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall under the window. He closed his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control.
"Dean," he heard a voice. His eyes snapped open but he couldn't see anyone. He knew the voice though. It belonged to Alastair.
"I'm here Dean," he said and Dean shivered as he felt a breath on his ear. He flinched away from it.
"I'm all around you," Alastair whispered and Dean felt a breath in his other ear. It was everywhere and he shivered.
"What do you want?" Dean growled, trying to keep his composure but shaking like crazy.
"I want you," Alastair purred, "I miss you Dean, you were such a brilliant subject to work with, such a challenge to break."
"Sam killed you," Dean told him.
"Oh Dean, you still believe that?" Alastair asked and then he was there, sitting on the bed, a long knife in his hands. He was different then when Dean saw him last, chained to that slab. He was in the body that he had in hell; the body he had when he was a human. He was a tall man and skinny. He had a thin face with high cheek bones and broken teeth. The teeth he did have were stained red with blood. He had short grey hair even though he didn't look that old, and completely white eyes. He grinned at Dean, twirling the knife around using his finer as a pivot.
"You died," Dean told him.
"No I didn't Dean," Alastair grinned, "I'm still here and I want you back."
"I'm not going anywhere," Dean growled, his fist tightening over the neck of the bottle of whiskey.
"Yes you are," Alastair told him, and stood up. He walked over to Dean, who tried to back up into the wall.
"Because if you don't do as I say I will send my hell hounds up," Alastair kneeled down beside Dean and got really close, his hot breaths ghosting over Dean's cheek, "And they will drag Sammy and your adoptive Daddy down to hell to join you."
"You can't," Dean said, panic in his voice.
"Oh, but I can," Alastair smiled, standing up, "And I will."
"What do you want me to do?" Dean asked.
"You're favourite thing," the demon told him, "Just get into your car and drive."
And with those instructions, Alastair disappeared. Dean stared at the spot that he had vanished, holding back the tears and holding his head in his hands.
He allowed himself five minutes of getting himself together before he decided that he couldn't hesitate any longer. He needed to make sure Sam was ok.
He didn't bother packing clothes. It would just look suspicious and he was quite sure he wouldn't need them anyway. He took another swig of whiskey before standing up and making sure his car keys were in his pocket. As he pulled them out, Castiel's black feather fell out. He quickly picked it up and stroked the length of it.
Dean thought about leaving it but he couldn't. He put it back in his pocket and took a deep breath. He slowly opened the door and tried to be as silent as possible as he walked along the corridor and down the stairs. He could see Bobby and Sam in the living room, chatting about something. Dean watched them for a moment, silently saying goodbye. He wanted them to be safe so he knew he needed to leave. Ignoring the tears in his eyes, Dean turned away from them and bumped straight into Castiel.
"Are you ok?" The Angel asked upon seeing the tears not yet fallen. Dean swallowed them away and nodded.
"Yeah," He said, trying to look at Castiel's eyes but finding it hard because it hurt so much.
"Where are you going?" Castiel asked.
"Nowhere, just outside to continue on the cars," Dean told him, wringing his hands together, "I've had my beer."
"And some whiskey," Castiel stated, smelling the sprit on his breath.
"Just a little," Dean smiled, wishing he had slightly more to get him through this.
"Do you want me to help you outside?" Castiel asked.
"No," Dean said, firmly and then felt bad as Castiel's face fell.
"You're more useful in here," Dean told him, "I can handle outside."
Castiel nodded and then stepped forward. Dean had to force himself not to flinch as the Angel placed his hand on his cheek. Dean closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. He reached forward, grabbing hold of Castiel's trench coat, and leaning his face into Castiel's hand. Castiel stepped even closer and raised his other hand to cup the back of Dean's neck. He then kissed Dean's forehead, resting his lips there briefly. Dean's breath hitched and he allowed himself this moment. This last moment.
"Will you stay with me tonight?" Dean asked, knowing he couldn't but needing the image in his mind, "To help me sleep."
"Of course, Dean," Castiel told him, his voice quiet as he stroked Dean's cheek with his thumb, "I'll do whatever you want."
Dean nodded, his clutched fists loosening as he wrapped his arms around Castiel's stomach and leant into his body, burying his face into his neck. Castiel hugged back and it felt so real that it had to be real.
Alastair was lying, surely?
All this couldn't be a trick or an illusion because no one could create feelings like this, could they?
But Dean couldn't risk it. Sam and Bobby's lives were on the line.
So Dean stepped backwards out of the embrace and smiled at Castiel, letting his hands fall to his side.
"I'll be outside then," Dean told him. Castiel silently nodded and it took Dean awhile to tear his eyes away from the deep blue ones.
He did though and walked away. It felt like someone had grabbed hold of his heart and was squeezing hard. He left the house and the three people he loved the most.
Dean saw the hounds but they just watched him from afar and didn't move. He rushed to his car and stroked the top tenderly.
"Come on baby, one last journey together."
He got in and looked towards the gate. He knew he would have to do this as quickly and as quietly as possible, otherwise someone would follow him. He took a deep breath and started the engine. He took one last glance at the house and then drove away, out of the yard and out of Gabriel's barriers. He looked back in the rear view mirror. No one was out of the house and no one was following him. He was safe for now.
He looked to the road and kept driving, not sure where he was going but just driving.
He drove for half an hour before he was driving down a forest lane. The trees made it look really dark and Dean put his lights on. The lights reflected off red eyes and a hound suddenly ran in front of the car. Dean swerved and went skidding off the road.
He saw a glimpse of white teeth before he hit a tree and darkness claimed him.
"Dean," a voice woke him up. Dean slowly opened his eyes and jumped violently as he recognised his surroundings. There were cave walls around him, damp with grime and blood. The place looked cold but there was heat radiating from every surface and a harsh orange glow seemed to surround him, joined by black smoke that rose from invisible fires. All he could smell was flesh. Rotting flesh and burnt flesh. It filled his nostrils like acid and he chocked as it engulfed him. He heard screams all around him but he couldn't see anyone
What he could see was that he was strapped to a metal table with thick leather bounds. He pulled at the ones around his wrists but they held tight. Beside the table was another metal table, this one smaller and filled with different instruments. Rusty knives and sharp rods, scalpels and clamps, a metal bat and matches, among other things. Blood seemed to be all over the table and the different bits of equipment. Blood was everywhere.
"Welcome back Dean."
Dean turned his head around to see Alastair standing by his head, holding another leather strap. Dean growled and shook his head as the demon leant down to wrap the strap around his head and the top of the table so Dean's head was kept in place. He glared up at the smirking Alastair.
"What did you do?" Dean scowled. He was trying to put on a brave front but he was in fact terrified.
"Oh, I just brought you back to reality," Alastair said, stalking around the table and picking up a scalpel. He twirled it around in his fingers, grinning. Dean kept his eyes on him, watching his every move.
"You dragged me back down here?" Dean asked, trying to move his head or any of his limbs, but he was bound tight. He even had a strap around his chest and the top of his legs so he couldn't move at all.
"Oh Dean," Alastair purred, "You've always been down here, I just decided you needed a break so I gave you some pretty pictures."
"No," Dean whispered, trying to shake his head.
"Yes!" Alastair grinned, his teeth red and black and rotten, "And the best thing is you now know what you did."
"What?" Dean asked, but already knowing what he was going to say.
"You broke the first seal and now Lucifer is roaming Earth, trying to get into Sammy's body," Alastair told him, licking his lips.
"No, he won't get into Sam," Dean told him.
"He's already breaking down, little Sammy isn't the same without his big brother to protect him."
"No, he's stronger than that," Dean insisted, clutching his fists.
"Really? He is so close to being like one of us anyway, the way he is gulping down Ruby's blood like a filthy vampire."
Dean felt sick because he knew it was true. He had been the one to help Sam get rid of his demon blood addiction. He was alone up there and the apocalypse had probably started and Lucifer was roaming about, and Dean hadn't managed to keep Sam safe.
"Enough of the chit chat," Alastair said, running his hands up Dean's body, making Dean shaky with how sick it made him feel, "I've missed this."
Dean squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the pain he knew was coming. Alastair tutted.
"Dean, you should know by now that that doesn't work; what is the first thing we do to our subjects?"
Dean didn't have to answer as he felt the cold sharp scalpel on the top of his eye lid. He screamed as Alastair cut along the eye lid and peeled back the skin so Dean had not choose but to look up at the demon's grinning face. Everything was tainted red.
"Now you have to watch everything I do," Alastair grinned as Dean thrusted around in pain and fear.
After Alastair was done for the day, several agonising hours later, Dean's body fixed itself.
The fingers that the demon had sliced off re-grew and the gashes on his stomach that had been whipped there knotted back together. His eye lids grew back and his broken bones clicked back together. Despite the pain and the fact that Dean's throat was raw with how much he had screamed, Dean knew Alastair had been easy on him. He knew the demon was only getting started. Tomorrow was going to be worse.
Dean could barely keep his eyes open as Alastair pulled thick chains over the table. They seemed to come out of nowhere and had giant hooks at the ends.
Dean screamed as Alastair pieced one through his shoulder. His body arched in pain and he gritted his teeth. Another went through his other shoulder and then through both his calves. The last one was forced through his left side and stomach.
"It's so nice to have you back," Alastair smiled, undoing the straps. Dean was too weak to fight.
"I must admit, shoving you into fantasy land was a brilliant idea of mine," Alastair lent his face close to his and grinned, "I get to break you all over again."
Alastair laughed as the chains tightened and Dean was pulled into darkness.
But then it wasn't dark and he was surrounded by other bodies, all screaming and weeping and begging. Chains crisscrossed all around him and it was hot with fire. Dean shut his eyes, trying to block it all out.
"Cas," he sobbed without realising it before he started crying with fear and pain.
Hell was exactly the way Dean had remembered. There was no breaks, no calm. Just pain.
Alastair tortured him whenever he waited to and when he got bored Dean was hung from the rack. There was screaming and begging, all of the time, and it was never dark, but at the same time it was never really light. Just an angry glow all of the time.
Alastair got more and more sadist in his tortures as the days went on. Dean tried to be strong and not give the demon the satisfaction of receiving a reaction but sometimes it was too hard. He ended up screaming out and whimpering and Alastair grinned every time.
"You know," he said, three days after Dean had arrived back in hell, "before I gave you those visions you use to call Sammy's name but now it is a different name."
The demon said this with a smirk while cleaning a knife with a dirty rag. Dean tried to blink the blood out of his eyes but he couldn't as his eyelids were gone. He could barely think through the pulsing pain but his mind responded to Sam's name. He looked to Alastair, trying not to shake. He scowled with anger though at the use of his little brother's nickname.
"You cry out oh-so-sweetly for the holy Castiel," Alastair licked his lips and grinned as Dean's eyes narrowed.
"Don't say his name," he snarled.
"Cas?" Alastair asked, setting the knife down and straightening his instruments.
"Shut up," Dean growled through gritted teeth.
"I never really thought you would believe my visions," Alastair told him, "I mean really, why would an Angel of the Lord save you?"
Dean shook his head, or at least tried to. The straps kept him from moving though.
"He cares about me," Dean told him.
"He has never meet you," Alastair laughed, "Castiel, the Angel of Thursday, would never dirty himself with rescuing a sinner from hell."
But Dean wouldn't believe it. He couldn't. He knew Castiel cared about him. He knew that Castiel had raised him from hell. He had the scar to prove it.
"Really?" Alastair laughed, as if he was reading Dean's mind. He then picked up a saw from the table and Dean shook as he realised what he was going to do. Dean bit his lip as Alastair put the ragged blade to his skin at the top of his arm. He screamed as the blade started to move, digging into skin, muscle and bone.
Alastair did it slow, allowing the agonising pain to last as long as possible. Dean tried to shut his eyes but couldn't so he was left to stare up at the dirty stone ceiling through red covered eyes. His vision started to black out around the edges, Alastair wouldn't allow him to pass out completely. He wasn't allowed that.
Dean forgot why Alastair was doing this by the time the demon had finished the sawing and his arm fell to the floor with a sickening thud.
He felt hot with the pain but his blood ran cold as Alastair held the arm up for Dean to see. It was covered in dark blood but other than that the arm was smooth. There was no handprint there.
"So you see now, Dean?" Alastair purred, his face close to Dean's, "You're always been here."
"Cas," Dean mumbled every time he was on the rack. He would squeeze his eyes shut, trying to block out the screaming. He would pray because he knew that no matter where he was, Castiel would hear him.
"Cas, Cas," he mumbled, like a lullaby, "Please, I need you, I need to see you and Sammy and Bobby, I can't do this, not again... if you can hear me, please, please let me know...I don't know if this is real or not, but it feels real and I...I'm losing it, Cas. I can't fight it anymore."
He would sometimes think he heard Castiel talking back. Not saying much, normally just his name.
"Dean, Dean," but it sounded quiet and far away. Dean was sure he was imagining it.
It didn't matter though because even though Alastair was doing anything to make Dean believe that he had never gone home or meet Castiel, that distant voice kept him believing that the demon was lying.
"Really Dean?" Alastair said one day as Dean was pulled from the rack and strapped to the table, "I don't understand why you keep praying to Castiel."
Dean didn't say anything. He didn't even look at Alastair as he sharpened the scalpel. Dean knew what was coming and wanted to stay as relaxed and shut off as possible before the pain brought him back to the stone walls and white eyes.
"He isn't coming to save you," Alastair told him, "he doesn't care about you or earth, he is up in heaven, watching the world fall apart, Sammy is alone and you are alone."
Dean stayed silent, not wanting to react. That was what Alastair wanted.
"I seriously never thought you would believe my visions," he laughed, "I mean really, Dean? Why would an Angel of the Lord save you, let alone fall in love with you? You're not that special, no matter what you think."
Dean still didn't respond. He thought of Castiel's blue eyes instead and of Sam's laugh. These things kept him grounded.
"The really sad thing about all of this, or should I say amusing, is that Castiel can hear you," Alastair told him, coming up to Dean's face; the way he always did when he had something practically cruel to say. He ran the scalpel down Dean's cheek, not hard enough to cut but enough for Dean to feel how cold and sharp it was.
"He can hear you begging and he isn't coming for you, he doesn't even care. You're just a fly buzzing in his ear, annoying and unimportant. He hears your pain and he knows how much you love him but he doesn't care, he isn't coming for you."
Dean felt the tears run down his cheeks before the sharp blade was slicing though his eyelids once again.
Dean soon lost track of the days. There was no way to count the hours and days but Dean knew weeks had gone past. The only reason he knew he had been in hell forty years before hand was because Alastair always seemed to remind him, but for some reason he wasn't this time.
Dean knew it had to be weeks though.
He could already feel himself losing faith. He didn't know what was real and what was not anymore.
Was he really in hell or was it just a trick?
Had he ever met Castiel?
He must have. He must have! Dean refused to believe that Alastair could make up the feelings that he felt for Castiel. There was no way Alastair could do that; create feelings of love and compassion.
Could he?
Dean was also confused why they hadn't saved him yet. Gabriel could find him easily but he had been there for weeks, months maybe, and there was nothing. But they wouldn't save him if they had never met him. Gabriel, the Trickster Gabriel, didn't care about him. He just liked making his and Sam's life terrible. The Gabriel that they had met recently only cared about them because he didn't want Castiel to hurt like he does.
And Alastair was right. Why would Castiel care about him if they had never meet? Dean found it hard to believe that Castiel cared about him in any situation.
Alastair always seemed to want to remind him. An Angel of the Lord falling in love with a sinner that stank of hell. Impossible.
Dean felt himself slipping. It was happening quicker than before but that was probably because he had more to lose this time. Before he had his little brother and his adoptive father. This time he had them both and an Angel he may or may not have a soul connection with, but someone he loved very much.
So Dean was slipping. He was getting use to the tortures quicker than last time and he felt broken and empty. He screamed and cried but he was begging less. Praying less. He didn't know who to pray to. Before it had been Sam. He had known that his brother couldn't help him but saying Sam's name had helped him remember who he was and to hold on to his humanity. This time it had been Castiel's name because Dean had though he would be able to find him and save him.
But that hadn't happened.
He had been left to rot and he was beginning to believe that he had always been down here.
It wasn't just the physical and mental torture that Alastair liked to use. Some days Dean wasn't strapped to the table but forced to his knees while Alastair over him and used him how he wanted.
Dean learnt to shut himself off during these times but as soon as he was back on the rack he would sob. He cried because he felt guilty, like he was betraying Castiel. He also felt humiliated and so weak. Dean Winchester shouldn't let anyone hurt him in that way. He was stronger than that. He had tried to fight back at the start, biting down on Alastair's hard length as he tried to shove it into Dean's mouth. The demon had just grinned at him and a whip had appeared in his hand. He had whipped at Dean's back until the human could no longer kneel and was curled up in a ball on the floor, trying to protect his face with his hands. Alastair had easily pushed his hands aside and had shoved his penis into Dean's mouth. Dean was so weak then he could only whimper and take it as the demon fucked his mouth.
Dean had done the same thing several times after that; tried to fight back, but it always ended up the same. In the end he learnt just to kneel and take it. It was over quicker that way. All he seemed to picture during those moments was Castiel's face. Hurt and sad. Disappointed. That was the worse one. He couldn't bear the thought of Castiel being disappointed in him. Sometimes he wished that he would never be saved because he didn't want to see Castiel's reaction to it. He would hate him for sure. It was only ever a flashing thought. Gone as soon as it came as Alastair started to peel his skin off and twists his bones into dust. No thought lasted long in hell as the pain was too much to keep thinking.
One day Dean woke up in a different place then the cave that Alastair used. Woke up wasn't really the right word though because in hell you don't sleep. One moment he was on the rack, the next he was laying on the floor of an old warehouse. He was fully clothed which was strange as Alastair had ripped his clothes off as soon as he had arrived back in hell. He had been naked ever since. It was also cold; so much so that he was shivering.
Dean tried sitting up but he couldn't. He felt weak and impossibly tired. Everything felt so surreal, like he was only half awake. There was a needle in his arm, linked to an IV drip that was on a metal frame above his head. He pulled it out with shaky hands, not feeling the pain it should have caused. He let his head fall back to the floor, lying on his side on the cold ground. He saw something black on the ground in front of him and he squinted, trying to get his brain to work long enough to figure out what it was. He reached out and his fingers touched the long, soft feather. It was covered in blood and broke in many places but Dean recognised it as Castiel's. He brought it closed to his face and rubbed it against his cheek. He closed his eyes and imagined it was the Angel caressing his face.
Dean must have blacked out because the next thing he knew someone was calling his name and hands were grabbing him. He flinched, knowing it was Alastair coming to strap him back to the table again.
He tried to open his eyes but only managed to slide them open a little bit. He got a glance of dark hair and a tan coat before his eyes shut again. He clutched tightly at the feather, knowing Alastair was going to appear soon. Maybe he was trying make Dean believe that Castiel was there but then he was going to turn around and torture him. Alastair use to do the same thing last time he was in hell. Sam would just be there and Dean would smile, thinking Sam had found a way to save him, but then Sam's eyes would go black and he would pull out a knife and start cutting away at Dean, sometimes pulling his heart out. Dean knew it was a matter of time before Alastair used this form of torture again soon. It was one of his favourite ones.
"Dean," Castiel's voice rang through his head, loud as a bell. Dean turned his head away from him, knowing it was a trick.
"Stop it," he begged. Any torture was better than this one. Arms wrapped around him and Dean flinched again, trying to get away but feeling too weak to get far.
"Dean, please," Castiel said, his voice laced with grief, "I'm going to take you home."
"You can't," Dean told him, his whole body tense as he shivered and leant away from the warm body.
"I'm taking you home to Sam and Bobby," Castiel promised. Dean relaxed slightly at these names.
"Sammy?" Dean asked, going still.
"Yeah," Castiel replied quietly, "To Sammy."
Dean relaxed completely then, letting himself lean into the arms. He knew Sam was real. He should enjoy Sam while he could, even if this was a trick. He could believe in Sam. Dean felt himself slip into darkness again, the feather still clutched tightly in his hand.
Dean woke up slowly and he felt warm. That was the only thing he could process at that moment. It was not as hot as hell, but a comfortable heat. It felt weird. It felt wrong. He slowly opened his eyes and found hazel eyes staring back at him.
"Sammy?" Dean whispered, not sure if he should believe that his brother was right there in front of him, elbows on the bed as he rested his chin on his hands. He looked tired as he smiled at Dean.
"Hey Dean."
Dean reached out a hand, which was shaking, and touched Sam's face to make sure he was really there.
"I'm real," Sam assured him. Dean shook his head, his hand still on Sam's face.
"You're not, but its fine," Dean told him, "At least I get to see you before Alastair starts to torture me again."
Sam's breath hitched and he looked shocked.
"Dean, it was all a trick," he told him, "The Angels took you."
Dean frowned, bring his hand back slightly. Alastair had just spent weeks convincing him that he was back in hell; why would he try and change that now?
"You disappeared and we've been trying to find you for over a month," Sam told him.
"A month?" Dean asked, trying to sit up. He was too weak though and just fell back down. It was then he realised he was still clutching the black feather. He looked at it while Sam nodded.
"The Angels kept a drip on you to keep you alive," he told Dean, leaning back and shaking his head in anger, "Castiel found you and you've been out of it for a couple of days."
"I feel like crap," Dean moaned, his fist tightening over the feather. It felt like he had been hit by a bus. His whole body felt heavy and ached. He couldn't focus properly and it felt like he had the flu. His throat was sore and his head was spinning. He was shivering and this just made him feel sick to his stomach.
"Well, you would," Sam said, "You've been undernourished and you've been away from Castiel for more than a month, he looks pretty bad as well."
Dean closed his eyes, confused. He had spent weeks being forced to believe he was in hell and now he was being told he wasn't.
"Dean?"
Dean opened his eyes to see Castiel standing by the door. He looked pale and he had dark purple shadows under his eyes. He looked worried and cautious, as if he was unsure if he was welcome.
"I'll go make you some food." Sam said, standing up. Dean grabbed his wrist and looked up at him, panic in his eyes.
"I'll just be downstairs." Sam tried to reassure him. Dean swallowed a lump in his throat away and released his grip. Sam gave him a small smile and then walked out, patting Castiel's shoulder on the way past.
Dean watched as Castiel approached. He looked nervous. Dean tried to sit up again but struggled. He leant on his hands to push himself up but ended up falling forward. Castiel was suddenly there, holding him up. Dean's hand was now on his chest and their faces were really close. Their eyes connected and Castiel's eyes looked as empty as Dean felt.
"How are you feeling?" Castiel asked, helping Dean back onto the bed so he was sitting up against the pillows.
"Like crap," Dean repeated. He leant back on the pillows, trying to catch his breath. Castiel nodded, sitting down on the chair and looking at Dean with big sad eyes.
Dean pulled the blankets over him and leant his head back against the wall, looking away from Castiel.
It hurt too much.
Just seeing those blue eyes looking so sad and desperate, it was too much.
"What did they show you?" Castiel asked, his voice quiet and nervous. Dean worried his lip, picking at a hole in his blanket.
"Dean?" Castiel asked when he didn't answer. Dean shook his head, tears coming to his eyes. He clutched the blanket tightly and shut his eyes.
"Ok, Alastair," he said, "You can stop now."
"Dean?" Castiel asked, looking half confused, half terrified.
"I already know your torture skills are especially sadist, you don't need to prove it again," he said, ignoring Castiel.
"No," Castiel said, and he sounded so angry that it shocked Dean enough to open his eyes. Castiel was leaning forward, his hands clutched in tight fists on his legs.
"You don't believe that, at least not all of you anyway," he told Dean, "Because I would know if you did, a little bit of you does because I can feel our bond...tearing-," And then Castiel was crying and reaching for Dean's hand like he needed to touch him, "-But we're still attached so deep down you know that I'm real."
"Of course you're real," Dean told him, "But we've never meet."
"No," Castiel told him, his face becoming calmer but his grip on Dean's hand was tight.
Dean didn't know what to believe. It felt like his head was split in two. It had been for a while and he didn't know if it would become whole again.
"I saved you from hell, I pulled you from its fires and burnt my wings as a result, and then I rebelled and we are trying to save the world together," Castiel told him and it was hard not to believe him when his eyes were screaming the truth.
"You burnt your wings?" Dean asked. Despite thinking that this was all a lie, he felt guilty about damaging Castiel's wings.
Castiel's eyes softened and it looked like there was a hint of relief in his eyes.
"My wings use to be white, but I like their colour now, they remind me of my greatest achievement."
Dean looked down at his hand, to the black, broken feather that was resting in his palm. He felt sad for Castiel's wings but as he imagined the feather while he couldn't see it suiting Castiel. All the other Angels had white wings and they were all dicks. Castiel was different from them and it seemed only right that he had different wings.
"Did it hurt?" Dean asked, imagining the hell fires licking at Castiel's wings and the hell hounds snapping at his hells. Dean didn't like the thought of Castiel in hell.
"No," Castiel told him, squeezing his hand. He started to slowly stroke Dean's hand with his thumb. It felt good. It was the first thing to feel good in weeks. Dean squeezed his eyes shut as tears slid down his cheeks. He felt fingers against his face and he flinched away.
"Don't," he mumbled.
Castiel withdraw his hands and Dean could feel his distraught look on him.
"You're just going to disappear again," Dean told him, "So just do it now; it will hurt less."
And Castiel did. He disappeared and Dean was wrong. It hurt. It hurt worse than hell.
He laid back onto the bed and curled into himself, the tears still flowing.
He only stopped when Sam came back into the room with some toast. Dean didn't say anything or eat the food. He just laid there, listening to Sam's attempts to get him to ear or him talking about what had happened over the last month.
Castiel had been desperate to find Dean, as had Sam, and they had looked everywhere while Gabriel and Bobby did their best to keep up with Lucifer and the horsemen. Gabriel had managed to get War and Famine's rings but had started to forget about the other horsemen as the last week all they had done was look for Dean as Castiel had started to feel the connection breaking, and he had gone on a rampage trying to find Dean. Castiel had ripped apart places where he had known the Angels had been and threatened every Angel he had come across. Sam said it had been very scary.
Gabriel had been worse though. He had taken on Zachariah to get to Dean and had even had to confront Raphael. They had fought while Castiel had got to Dean.
Dean listened, trying to imagine an angry Trickster and his calm, doe eyed Castiel threatening other Angels. He knew he had it in him, but the thought still scared Dean.
Dean fell asleep still listening to Sam's voice.
Dean didn't get out of the bed for a couple of days. He felt too weak to begin with and he didn't want to get back into a routine around Bobby's house again just for it to be torn away.
While he had been in hell, Gabriel had healed Bobby's legs so the old man had come up to try and kick Dean out of bed. Nothing had really worked so instead Bobby sat by the bed and talked, just like Sam had.
"Damn Angel had the mojo to fix my legs the whole time and didn't do a thing about it," Bobby grumbled, "He just turned to me one day and said, 'you sit down a lot, old man' and then fixed my legs with just a quick touch," Bobby shook his head, "Dumb idjit!"
Dean smiled at that and a small chuckled escaped. It felt weird, unnaturally even. He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled. Bobby smiled back and patted his shoulder.
"It will get better, son," he said, "just give it time."
Dean sighed, hoping it was true. He wanted all of this to be true. He hoped that it was the Angels that had taken him and given him visions. He hoped he was back at Bobby's and Alastair was actually dead.
But there was a bigger part of him that knew he wasn't.
One morning, about a week after Dean had been brought back to Bobby's, he awoke on the floor of the bed room. The bed had disappeared and Gabriel and Sam were standing over him.
"Right, now you have no excuse to laze around in bed," Gabriel told him, "Get up and do something."
"I was hung from the rack, do you think lying on the floor is really going to bother me?" Dean asked and Sam grinned because it was the longest sentence Dean had said all week.
"Probably not but we'll all start kicking your arse if you don't move," Gabriel told him.
"Dean, you're just making yourself more ill by staying in bed," Sam told him, kneeling down next to him, "You need to get back into the swing of things and get some fresh air, and we need you to help us, Lucifer gets stronger every day and we need to stop him."
Dean sighed and slowly pushed himself up so he was sitting. He hadn't eaten much in the last couple of days so he was still weak.
"Just let me get dressed then, and I'll be down," he told them. They left, Sam reluctantly, and Dean slowly got himself ready. His movements were weighted, like there was lead in his veins. He pulled clothes on and slipped into the hoodie he always wore when he felt ill. He still felt cold though so he pulled a blanket over his shoulders. He then slowly walked downstairs, trying to ignore his spinning head.
Bobby had cooked breakfast and it was ready for Dean on the table. Dean didn't say anything but just sat down. It was waffles and bacon. It looked good and he poured a healthy amount of syrup on it, earning a smile from Sam and Bobby. Sam poured him a cup of coffee and Dean had to hold the mug in both his hands as they were shaking so much. Sam sat opposite him, opening his laptop up and starting to type away.
"What you doing?" Dean asked, cutting his waffle and putting a small piece in his mouth. Sam looked surprised that Dean had asked. Dean hadn't really been speaking lately and this was the first time he had spoken without someone speaking to him first.
"We need to get all of the horsemen's rings because they can open hell and Gabe wants to put Lucifer back in hell and not kill him if necessary," Sam told him.
"Gabe?" Dean asked, crooking his eyebrow. Sam's cheeks flashed.
"What? You get to nickname Castiel but I can't do the same for Gabriel?"
"No, no," Dean grinned, amused at Sam's defensiveness, "You can name him whatever you want."
"Anyway-," Sam said but there was a hint of a smile on his face, "-I am trying to find anything that will give us a clue about the whereabouts of Pestilence and Death so we can get their rings."
Dean nodded, picking at his breakfast. It wasn't as if he didn't want to eat, it was just he had seemed to have lost his appetite. If he ate too much he felt nauseous. Sam had reassured him that it was normal for someone that had been starved of food for so long to be unable to eat huge amounts for a couple of weeks afterwards. It didn't make a lot of sense to Dean but Sam had listed a load of scientific reasons and Dean hadn't wanted to argue or question it.
He ate about half of it and finished his coffee. Sam watched him out of the corner of his eye and Bobby hovered over him like a mother hen. It annoyed Dean so he went outside, pulling the blanket tight around him. It was cloudy and the wind made Dean shiver even worse.
He smiled though as he spotted his baby near the work shop. He walked over to the impala, but frowned as he spotted a figure in the backseat. As he got closer he realised it was Castiel. Dean stilled for a moment, his heart feeling heavy. He hadn't seen Castiel since he had told the Angel to away. Dean knew he had been in the room watching over him while he slept though as he woke every morning with a black feather on the pillow next to him.
Dean opened the car door and looked in.
"Hey," he said quietly. Castiel looked at him a small, sad smile formed on his face.
"Hello Dean."
Castiel's voice made Dean's legs feel weak and he slid into the back seat next to him.
"It's good to see you up," Castiel told him.
"Yeah, your dick brother and my bitch brother stole my bed," Dean grumbled, folding his arms tightly to his body to try and stop the shivers.
"It seems to have been effective," Castiel commented.
"Where have you been?" Dean asked a heart beat later. He looked at the Angel who was staring right ahead, avoiding Dean's eyes. He was pale and looked very tired. There were dark shadows under his eyes and he just looked ill and worn. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes looked bloodshot and red rimmed.
"You asked me to leave," Castiel answered. It was true. Dean had, but he hadn't expected Castiel to stay away. It had upset Dean. Even though he still thought that he was in hell, he had missed Castiel. He had missed the touches they shared and the glances and even the feeling of their connection even though that normally involved pain.
Dean sighed, feeling the weight of exhaustion on his shoulders. He moved forward and laid down so his head was in Castiel's lap. The Angel made a small sound of surprise but his arms automatically went around Dean's shoulders. Dean buried his face in Castiel's stomach and then pulled at his shirt so it untucked and Dean was able to run his hand over Castiel's hip bone. Castiel made another sound, a bit like a moan. A content sound. Castiel's skin was soft and warm. It decreased the shivers slightly. Castiel pulled the blanket over so it was completely covering Dean's body and then ran his hands through his hair, rubbing his scalp in circles.
Dean smiled, forgetting everything for a moment while he was engulfed by Castiel's smell and touch. It was exactly how Dean had remembered. Fresh air and vanilla. Soft hands that seemed to know every touch that Dean needed and wanted.
"I really missed you," Castiel told him, his voice quiet, "I thought I was going to lose you."
Dean didn't say anything to this, just shamelessly snuggled closer to Castiel and closed his eyes.
"So why are you ok with seeing me now?" Castiel asked, a hint of hope in his voice.
"It might hurt a lot more later but I might as well enjoy it now," Dean replied.
"You still think this is a trick by Alastair?" Castiel asked, the hope gone.
Dean left the question unanswered and went to sleep listening to Castiel's breathing.
When he woke, they were still in the impala and Dean felt better than he had in a while. He felt fresh and alert, and his limbs didn't feel as weighted anymore. He sat up and looked at Castiel, who no longer looked sickly and tired. There was colour back in his cheeks and his eyes looked bright again, even though there was worry and sadness in them. Dean smiled at him and a spark of happiness flashed through Castiel's blue orbs.
"How do you feel?" He asked.
"Good," Dean told him, shrugging the blanket off, "I don't feel like the last month happened."
"It's because we've been close," Castiel smiled, "The physical closeness healed both of us."
"How long have I been asleep?" Dean asked, looking outside to see that it was getting dark.
"All day," Castiel answered. A rumble filled the car as Dean's stomach made itself known. Dean laughed, feeling himself.
"I'm hungry," Dean stated the obvious but it was such a great, normal feeling.
"Good," Castiel nodded, "Come on, Gabriel can get us some food."
They got out of the car and walked together back to the house.
Sam looked shocked to see Dean up and looking healthy. Bobby smiled and offered him a beer and Gabriel crossed his arms and leant against the doorframe, a grin on his face.
"So, what's for dinner?" Dean asked, taking a sip of the beer.
Gabriel mojoed up burgers and fries, along with apple pie and they all sat around the table in the kitchen and ate. It was a good atmosphere. Sam sat opposite Dean and Castiel was next to him, close enough for them to be touching. They all joked together and ate and drank beer. They didn't talk about Lucifer or the horsemen or the Angels. Responsibilities were forgotten for the night and everyone just enjoyed each other's company. Dean ate half of the pie himself and he felt so happy. He looked around the table and saw everyone else was happy as well. Bobby stood up as the food was finished and moved the dishes over to the sink. He hated sitting down tor too long after spending so much time in a wheelchair.
"So do you feel better then?" Sam asked Dean.
"Yeah," Dean smiled, "I thought I might as well enjoy this while I can, Alistair will get bored if I'm just sulking in bed."
And with that statement the atmosphere completely changed. Sam's face fell and Castiel grew tense next to him. Bobby sighed and rubbed his hand over his face and Gabriel pressed his lips together tightly.
"What?" Sam asked.
"Alistair...he'll drag me back to reality sooner or later so I should spend this time enjoying you lot."
Sam looked frustrated as he said,
"Dean, Alistair is dead, remember?"
Dean shook his head sadly. He did have that memory. He remembered Alistair coming off that slab and beating the crap out of him before doing the same to Castiel. Dean had passed out seeing Castiel's red blood. He had awoken hours later in a hospital and Sam telling him not to worry about the demon anymore.
But he had a more recent memory of Alistair cutting his eyelids off and sawing away his limbs. Of beating him with a red hot whip, hanging him from the rack and fucking his mouth with his dick.
"I killed him Dean!" Sam said, slamming his hands on the table and standing up, "Don't you remember the demon blood!? Don't you remember the anger and disappointment because I do! You can't forget emotion like that."
Dean sighed because he did. He remembered it well, and the hatred he had felt towards Ruby.
"It's just a trick," Dean told him, "the last thing that happened was when we tried to take down Lilith and the hell hounds took me."
"No," Sam told him, his voice shaky, "Cas got you out and we tried to stop the seals but we failed because of Ruby and Lucifer got out of hell. I killed Alistair and we meet Chuck, remember? Zachariah put us into that alternative universe where you wore suits and I was tech support. Michael wants you as a vassal and Lucifer wants me, remember? You and Cas have a soul connection and I wanted to break it and you were so angry with me. You must remember these emotions. Alistair couldn't make all this up."
Dean took a deep breath and looked down at the table.
"It's all a trick," he mumbled.
Sam seemed to want to say something else but he bit his lip and shook his head before leaving the room. Gabriel followed him and a couple of minutes later Dean could hear Sam's voice upstairs, ranting. There was a whoosh of air and Dean looked beside him to see that Castiel had disappeared. Dean felt his shoulders drop as he sighed. He felt bad for making everyone upset. He suddenly felt a beer being pushed into his hand and he looked up to Bobby, who was looking at him with soft eyes.
"They're just scared for you," he told Dean, "It's not your fault; they just want you to get better."
"How can I get better?" Dean asked, "There's nothing wrong with me."
"Don't worry about it at the moment," Bobby said, "You'll realise the truth sooner or later, now help with the dishes."
Dean stood up and walked over to the dink, dragging the tea towel off the side and picking up a plate. He looked outside as he started to dry it. He could the impala and he could see that Castiel was back sitting in the back seat.
"He's always out there," Bobby told him, "I think it probably smells like you or some romantic mumbo jumbo."
Dean tensed his jaw, thinking about Castiel sitting out there alone every day. He knew that the Angel must feel useless and trapped.
"The car was pretty banged up when the Angels and Sam found it," Bobby continued, "the front had completely caved in but Gabriel mojoed it back together."
Dean was glad. He didn't think he could cope with looking at a broken impala along with the disappointment in everyone's eyes.
He dried the rest of the dishes in silence before sitting back at the kitchen table and pulling the laptop towards him. He wanted to get his mind off everything so he started to research weird weather patterns and unusual animal behaviour; anything that could suggest that something big was about to go down.
Bobby sat opposite him, reading from a thick leather bound book. It looked hundreds of years old. The house was quiet, the only sounds being the topping of the keyboards, pages turning and the occasionally sipping of beer.
Dean found a couple of areas that may have some activity going on and noted them down to tell everyone else in the morning. Bobby had gone to bed but Dean was still wide awake, probably because he had been asleep all day. It made quite a difference from how he had been feeling the last couple of days. He had felt weak when he had been in bed but too tired to care. He was glad he was more alert now. He could help now and despite the argument earlier, Dean knew Sam and Bobby were happier with him up and about and not stuck in bed.
Dean could see Castiel still in the impala if he looked out of the window. He was sitting there, staring straight ahead. Dean wondered if Castiel knew he was looking at him. Dean also wondered if he would have got better sooner if Castiel had been around him more the last couple of days. Probably, because that is how the connection works. They could heal each other. Dean felt a need to be near Castiel. It wasn't sudden or surprising. Dean had felt this need for weeks now, but staring out of the window, seeing Castiel all alone, made the need even more prominent. He was itching to be near Castiel. To just touch him and see that small smile that was mostly in the eyes and the confused head tilt. Dean needed it more then he need the beer that was clutched in his hand right now.
Dean didn't want to go out there and start getting attached again though. It would hurt even more when Alistair decides to drag him back down to hell.
Dean sighed heavily and placed the empty bottle of beer on the counter, but he must have drunk a bit too much because he missed the counter and the glass fell to the floor and smashed. Dean cursed and knelt down to pick up the pieces.
"Ouch," he frowned on reflex as he cut himself and saw red pouring from his hand. It didn't hurt at all, but it wouldn't after all the torture he had gone through the last couple of weeks. It was just a small cut.
The kitchen suddenly filled with a green light as Castiel appeared in the room, the light coming from his eyes and hand. Dean looked up at him, shocked.
"Dean, are you ok?" Castiel asked, kneeling next to him and reaching for his bleeding hand.
"Yeah...it's just a cut," Dean said, confused. He had forgotten that Castiel felt pain when he was suppose to. It had only happened once before and it felt like a lifetime ago. Castiel took hold of Dean's hand and examined it, his expression worried and pained. Dean watched as Castiel ran his hand over the cut. As his fingers went over the gash, the skin knotted back together and the blood disappeared. The green light coming from the Angel slowly disappeared.
"Are...are you still falling?" Dean asked after a moment. He was looking at their hands.
"Yes," Castiel answered.
"You shouldn't heal me then," Dean told him.
"I don't like you in pain," Castiel said quietly, leaning over the glass to cup Dean's cheek. Dean bit his lip, feeling like shots of electricity was going through his skin at the touch.
"We only realised you were gone when you got hurt. You had a head injury and you hurt your leg, and we tried to find you, but we couldn't, just your car crashed against a tree," Castiel told him, his voice full of pain.
"Did you feel it... the whole time?" Dean asked, still looking down.
"Yes, but it was good because it meant you were alive."
Dean nodded, looking up and looking into Castiel's eyes. They were moist with unshed tears and Dean felt his heart drop with guilt. He wished he could take the pain away. He squeezed Castiel's hand and gave him a small, broken smile.
"Well, I'm here now," he said but Castiel didn't look that convinced. He broke the grip he had on Dean's hands and started to pick up the broken glass. Together they got it cleaned up.
It felt slightly awkward afterwards. Dean wanted to feel close to Castiel but he couldn't when he thought everything around him was going to disappear any second and he thought Castiel knew that so was keeping his distance. They both wanted to be close but neither was making the first move.
"You should go to bed," Castiel told him. Dean rubbed his face with his hand, feeling the weight of exhaustion finally setting in. He nodded and then made a snap decision. He grabbed Castiel's hand and pulled him along, out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Once inside the room, Dean turned around and pushed Castiel's trench coat off his shoulders. Castiel took the hint and started to peel off his jacket and shoes as well. Dean stripped down to his boxers and then crawled into the bed, holding the covers open for Castiel to climb in next to him. Castiel laid on his back and Dean leant up on his elbow, looking down at him.
"How is your head?" Dean asked, thinking of the headaches that he always got when Castiel had been hurt. He put his fingers against Castiel's temple and slowly rubbed circles in his skin.
"I'm ok," Castiel told him, closing his eyes, "It only hurts a little bit."
He leant into Dean's fingers and made a soft moan of contentment. Dean smiled down at him, glad he was making the Angel feel good. He continued to do it for a couple of minutes, until Castiel looked completely relaxed. Dean then laid down, sighed softly as his body snuck into the mattress. He was caught by surprise as Castiel rolled over and rested his head on Dean's shoulder, his arm slang loosely over Dean's stomach.
Dean smiled and ran his hand up underneath Castiel shirt and stroked his back in lazy lengths. It felt peaceful and right and for once Dean didn't worry about tricks and illusions, and Angels and Demons.
Just Castiel in his arms.
The next day they all ended up in Iowa, in the Serenity Valley Convalescent home, on the trial of Pestilence. Some of the research Dean had done the night before had led them here and the five of them were standing outside.
"There are demons here," Gabriel said, as if he had x-ray vision and could see all over the hospital. He probably did, Dean reasoned.
"How many?" Sam asked.
"Not that many, just enough to stall us," Gabriel answered and then turned to look at the three humans, "Now remember, Pestilence will use his powers against you so just be prepared."
Dean, Sam and Bobby nodded. Dean was excited about being on a case again. If he got caught up in the adrenaline and the action then he might forget about everything for a little while. And if it wasn't all a trick then it will help get rid of Lucifer, and that was very important.
Dean stopped for a moment and frowned at himself. That was the first time since he woke up a week ago that he had thought that it wasn't all a trick. It was a surprising thought but Dean didn't have much time to dwell on it as everyone started to move towards the building. Gripping his knife tightly, Dean followed.
Gabriel led the way, followed closely by Castiel. The hunters brought up the rear. The Angels knew straight away which of the workers at the hospital were demons and they exorcised them as they went along, leaving vassals alive but unconscious. Workers who weren't demons and patients started screaming.
"It's okay," Sam said to a nurse who was kneeling down next to an unconscious porter, "We're helping, they will be ok."
"What do you want?!" The nurse asked, tears in her eyes.
"Patients have been dying, haven't they? With no reason whatsoever?" Sam asked. The nurse nodded and an elderly male patient said,
"Yes, they've been fine one moment, just a cold or something, and dead the next, it's been terrifying around here."
"Well, we're to help, these people weren't who you thought they were," Dean told them, "They will wake up soon and be fine."
But they couldn't linger any longer as the Angels were disappearing down the corridor, so Dean grabbed hold of Sam and dragged him along, leaving Bobby to deal with the distressed workers and patients. The brothers ran down the corridor after the Angels who were fighting a group of demons.
"Cas!" Dean shouted as he saw a demon approach Castiel from behind with a knife. Castiel turned around at the yell and the demon shoved the knife into his stomach. Dean gasped as he felt the knife go through his own gut.
"Dean!" Castiel shouted and then exorcised the demon, shoving him against a wall. The next second Castiel was next to Dean, who was holding his stomach as the blue light flooded out.
The blood on Castiel's shirt frightened Dean more than the pain though. He reached forward to press a hand against the wound.
"I'm fine," Castiel told him, "I will heal soon."
Dean looked from the blood to Castiel's eyes that looked even more blue than usual with the light shining from Dean reflecting in them.
Sam was next to Dean, holding him up even though he was holding himself up, and Gabriel was standing at the end of the corridor with the demons' vassals around him.
"Are you ok?" Castiel asked, grabbing hold of Dean's shoulder. Dean smiled and nodded, because he was. The pain wasn't too bad and it was the good kind of pain. The pain was Castiel's and it meant that their connection was still there and still strong, and it wasn't too late. Dean hadn't even realised he had been scared of their connection breaking until that moment.
So Dean smiled.
"Yes, I'm fine," he told Castiel, "Now go with Gabriel before Pestilence gets away."
Castiel looked unsure for a moment but then Dean stood up straighter and pushed on his arm slightly.
"We'll be right behind you," Dean told him and Castiel nodded, turning around and following Gabriel, trailing blood after himself. The Angels disappeared and Dean pulled away from Sam, feeling a need to follow quickly.
"Come on, I'm fine," Dean told his brother. Sam nodded and they hurried after the Angels; Dean holding his stomach where the light was spilling through. Castiel and Gabriel had disappeared and they rushed down the corridors, opening every door as they went.
"Something's wrong," Dean said as the pain worsened instead of getting better.
"Come on," Sam said, grabbing his arm and dragging Dean along towards where there was noise. They stormed into a room, where Gabriel was standing facing a man who had to be Pestilence. Castiel was lying on the floor, clutching his still bleeding wound.
"Cas!" Dean gasped, kneeling down next to him. Castiel looked up to him with glazed over eyes. He was shivering and breathing very fast. Dean touched his arm and his skin was boiling.
"What's wrong?" Dean asked, putting his hand on Castiel's cheek.
"I feel funny, Dean," Castiel said, his speech slurred. Dean frowned at the uncharacteristic speech and looked up at Gabriel, who held his glance with Pestilence.
"Blood poisoning," the horsemen grinned, "I was surprised it worked so well, there really isn't much Angel left in you, is there Castiel?"
Castiel didn't seem to hear him and clutched Dean's wrist instead.
"You've got really pretty eyes," he said, smiling up at Dean. If there were a less dire situation, Dean would have laughed at him.
Pestilence twisted his ring and then suddenly Dean felt a crippling pain in his stomach. He nearly fell over with now much it hurt and he tasted iron. Beside him Sam crippled to his knees and retched. A paddle of blood landed in front of him. He coughed, barely holding himself up with his shaky arms.
"Sam!" Dean cried out, before growling at the horseman.
"You're no match for me and you know that," Gabriel told him, "So stop your game and leave them alone."
"I have to at least put up a fight," Pestilence said, "And seeing humans in such pain distress is so much fun."
Sam groaned and collapsed, coughing up blood again.
"Sam," Dean gasped again, tearing himself away from Castiel and crawling to his brother, who was near enough that Dean was able to keep one hand on Castiel's arm as he looked down at his unconscious brother.
"Stop it!" Dean shouted at Pestilence, who just grinned at him.
"You are stronger than you look, Winchester," he said, "You should be on the floor in agony as your organs slowly shut down."
"I've had worse," Dean glared at him, and he was being honest. He could still feel Castiel's stab wound and it felt like there was a dozen bullets bouncing around his insides, cutting though organ, tissue and bone, and his head was pounding from the light still bleeding from his eyes, but he had worse, much worse, and he wasn't going to let a snarky dick with man jewellery get to him.
Pestilence just smirked and twisted his ring again.
The pain instantly got worse. It felt like something was crawling around inside him and eating away at everything in its path with razor sharp teeth.
Dean felt himself fall and he started to shake uncontrollable. He didn't realise what was happening and it felt like he was in a dream. The only reason he knew he was lying on floor was because he could see Castiel's blue eyes moving around violently. He heard shouting but he couldn't make out the words.
Dean saw rather than felt Castiel reach out his hand and touch his face.
The next thing Dean realised was that Sam was above him, shaking him awake. Pestilence was gone and Gabriel was standing there with a bloody finger in his hand.
"What happened?" Dean asked, sitting up. All the pain had gone, part from the stab wound and the headache.
Castiel was still lying on the floor, but was now unconscious. Dean bent over him and felt his forehead. He was still hot and he didn't wake at Dean's touch.
"I got the ring and Pestilence ran off with his tail in-between in his legs," Gabriel told him.
"Why hasn't Cas woke up?" Dean asked, stroking the Angel's hair back off his sweaty face. Gabriel answered as Bobby ran in.
"Let's get home," the Archangel mumbled, before clicking his fingers.
Dean put Castiel onto the bed just as the Angel was waking up. Dean felt relieved for a moment before he realised that Castiel's eyes were still glazed and his temperature was still high.
"Did we get him?" Castiel asked and he sounded drunk as he slurred.
"Yeah, Gabriel got him," Dean told him, carefully easing his coat and jacket off. Castiel stayed quiet then until Sam and Gabriel came in just as Dean was taking off Castiel's shoes.
"Sam!" Castiel suddenly said, sitting up straight and making Dean jump slightly. He watched as Sam frowned and went over to Castiel's side. Castiel grabbed his arm.
"Sam! We must find Dean," Castiel told him urgently.
"What?" Sam asked, as confused as Dean.
"Zachariah took him and we need to get him back before they break the bond," Castiel continued, gripping Sam's arm tightly.
"Cas," Dean said, stepping forward but stopping as Castiel started to shake his head, looking down and letting go of Sam.
"I need Dean back," he mumbled, and Dean was shocked to hear the tears in his voice. He took another step forward.
"Cas, Dean is back, you rescued him, remember?" Sam told the Angel. Dean pushed his brother aside and knelt down next to Castiel.
"He's hurt, we need to go and find him," Castiel cried, fisting the duvet, "before its too late."
"Cas," Dean said, softly, putting his hand on Castiel's thigh, "I'm here."
Castiel looked up and Dean's heart stopped for a second as he saw those blue eyes filled with tears and looking so desperate. Castiel reached up and grabbed Dean's t-shirt in weak fists.
"No, you're not, not really," Castiel whispered and shook his head again, tears slipping down his cheeks, "I miss you Dean, I want you to come back, I don't want our bond to break, it is the most important thing to me," he cried, speaking fast. He learnt forward and buried his face in Dean's neck. Dean, shocked speechless, wrapped his arms around Castiel's shoulders and pulled him close before looking up at Gabriel, seeking answers that he hoped the Archangel could give.
"This is the first time he has got ill," Gabriel said, "And Pestilence was really trying to hurt him as he is an Angel, it will just take slightly longer for the sickness to run through Castiel's system, he should be fine by the morning."
Dean swallowed the lump in his throat away and nodded.
"Is there anything we can do?" Dean asked. Gabriel looked at him with pity in his eyes and shook his head.
"It just has to run its course," he said, "It will probably be best if you both got some rest."
"I'm fine," Dean told him.
"You're still glowing Dean," Sam said and Dean could see that was true from his reflection in the window. His eyes weren't as bright as earlier but no green was visible yet.
"Ok, go get the first aid kit and I'll sort Cas out," Dean told Sam, who nodded and left. Gabriel looked at Dean and Castiel. It looked like he was going to say something but then shook his head and disappeared. Dean didn't think about it though as he tried to ease Castiel off him.
"I'm going to look at your wound, Cas," Dean told him as Castiel mumbled something. He clung tighter to Dean's chest, desperate not to let go.
"I'm not going anywhere, Cas," Dean told him gently, his voice heavily with guilt. He eventually got Castiel's shirt off and winced as he saw the red angry mess. It looked infected and swollen, and the veins around the gash seemed darker than what Dean would consider normal.
Sam rushed in with the first aid kit. He seemed to hesitate after giving it to Dean, but then left after he realised that Dean didn't need help.
Dean still had pain rushing through him but he pushed it aside easily as he took out the antiseptic to clean the wound. He wanted to heal Castiel but he knew he was too weak to do it.
It was hard to treat Castiel's gash while the Angel was clinging to him so tightly, but Dean managed to get it clean and stitched up. Dean felt every stab of the needle but he ignored it as Castiel muttered under his breath while Dean worked, but the hunter couldn't hear what he was saying. Dean bandaged Castiel's stomach and then laid him down.
"Dean," Castiel mumbled, sounding desperate as Dean moved back to change his blood covered top. He couldn't stand to be away from Castiel when he looked so lost, so he just stripped off his shirt and climbed into the bed next to Castiel. The Angel crawled up beside him, lancing onto him again.
"I missed you," Castiel mumbled onto his skin where his face was buried into Dean's chest. He ran his hands down Dean's stomach, where the light was dimming.
"I missed you too," Dean whispered, licking his lips. They were chest to chest; skin to skin. Castiel's skin felt soft and warm; warmer than he should be but Dean could tell he had cooled down slightly.
"I can't wait until I'm human," Castiel told him, his speech slow and slurred. Dean felt heavy at these words. He didn't want Castiel to fall because that meant he would die.
"I want to feel hungry and I don't want you to feel my pain and I want to share all the pleasures of the world with you," Castiel rambled, his breath ghosting over Dean's skin like feathers.
"Yeah?" Dean asked, swallowing away his grief that Castiel was going to fall because of him.
"I want us to live together and die together, Dean," Castiel told him, and Dean could feel Castiel's smile against his skin. Castiel snuggled closer, shivering slightly. Dean pulled the blanket up so it was wrapped around their shoulders and nodded.
"I want that too," Dean said quietly, rubbing circles into Castiel's shoulder where his arm was wrapped around him.
"Really?" Castiel asked and he sounded so innocent and hopeful that Dean nearly chocked as tears wailed up in his eyes.
"Yeah," he whispered and he felt Castiel relax completely against him. Dean waited for his breathing to even out before letting his barriers break down slightly and allowing a couple off tears run down his cheeks. He rubbed them away roughly, thinking about how unfair it was.
He wanted this. He wanted this life with Castiel by his side and Sam happy and healthy, and Bobby being able to walk around and yell at them, and even Gabriel because the Archangel wasn't too much of a dick anymore. Dean wanted it but he knew he couldn't.
On one hand it could all be a trick by Alastair. He could be dragged back to the pit and that metal table any second and he could go back to a reality where the Castiel he knows doesn't exist. On the other hand, this could all be real and, despite the pain and Lucifer and the need to get Death's ring, he could be cuddled up to a beautiful Angel who is willing to fall for him. However, he can never really be part of this reality when his heart doesn't really believe it.
Dean was stick in what seemed like an endless circle and he wasn't sure how to get out.
He went to sleep, one arm over his blue tainted eyes and the other around Castiel protectively.
When they woke up the next morning, Castiel sat up and smiled down at him. Dean looked up at him through sleepy eyes. The Angel looked better now and Dean could feel from where Castiel's hand was on his arm that he no longer had a fever.
"How are you feeling?" Castiel asked. Dean frowned, reaching out and touching Castiel's bare chest, running his hand down and over the bandage and the now healed wound.
"You're the one who was hurt," Dean mumbled, still half asleep. His movements were sluggish as he tried to wake up fully.
"You felt the pain," Castiel told him. Dean shrugged and sat up. He yawned, stretching the sleep out of his joints.
"It wasn't that bad, I was more worried that you weren't healing and that Pestilence's illness kept effecting you long after we stopped him," Dean said, thinking about the night before. He shivered as he remembered Castiel wanting to find him and being so desperate.
"Sorry for making you worry and for things that I said," Castiel said. Dean looked away and shrugged again. He went to stand up but stopped as Castiel grabbed his hand.
"I just want everything to go back to the way it was, I want you to realise that it was all fake and come back to me," Castiel told him, his eyes soft.
Dean narrowed his eyes and stanched his hand away from Castiel's grip.
"You lot need to stop saying that it was fake or just visions," Dean growled, "Because it is really annoying me," He stood up, clutching his fists, "You weren't there, it was real, I felt the pain, it was very real."
"No, it wasn't Dean," Castiel told him desperately, "It was vi-"
"Even if it was visions, the pain was real!" Dean yelled, "And it was my worst nightmare come true; you lot make out like I have a choice whether I believe this or that but I don't! Of course I am going to believe the reality where I'm stuck in hell and Alastair is just teasing me, and my little brother is all alone and the person I am in love with doesn't give a fuck about me."
Castiel looked hurt but he didn't say anything as Dean went on.
"Because it makes sense that I'm stuck in hell with a sadist bastard because why would an Angel save me? I'm not a righteous man and I have sinned more times than I haven't; I deserve to be in hell."
"No, you don't," Castiel said but he wasn't heard as Dean growled and ran his hands through his hair roughly and in frustration.
"Of course I want to believe that this is all real, I want to be here on earth with you, Sammy and Bobby, I want you to be here with me and for my soul to be bonded to your grace, I want to be able to hold you and kiss you, I want you to love me like I love you, I want-"
Dean didn't finish as suddenly his back was against the wall and Castiel's lips were on his. Dean made a small sound of surprise but then clenched Castiel's bare shoulders and he was kissing back. He felt tears rolling down his cheeks and after a second he realised what was happening and tried to push Castiel back.
"No, stop," Dean cried, "You'll just disappear."
"I won't," Castiel promised, cupping Dean's face and stroking the tears away with his thumb. Dean shook his head and looked down. He wanted to believe. He wanted it so badly.
"I knew that it was going to be me to raise you from perdition ever since the day you were born," Castiel told him, lifting his chin so they were looking at each other, "Zachariah told me while we looked from heaven, he told me your life was going to be hard but I couldn't intervene until I was ordered to, so I watched and it was so difficult."
Dean listened, more tears sliding down his face. He was shaking and gripping Castiel's arm tightly.
"As soon as I knew you were in hell I rushed to get you but Uriel and Zachariah held me back; it was the first time I had ever questioned an order but I was told to wait. I hated it, watching you in so much pain. I had to look away because I felt angry for not being able to help and confused because I had never experience such emotion before. I watched over Sammy instead but I knew I was failing there as well because he was being corrupted by Ruby. I was ordered not to intervene with him either because it was all part of God's plan. I felt ashamed and I questioned God's plan. When I was told you had been broken in hell and the first seal had been broken as a result I felt angry again at my superiors allowing it go that far but I didn't think about it for long as I was told to finally rescue you. It took me ten long hell years to get to you and when I did you were so broken," Castiel's voice caught on a sob, startling Dean. He moved closer to Castiel and placed his hand on the back of the Angel's neck. He pushed their foreheads together and looked into Castiel's blue eyes. Dean didn't remember being rescued, something that had made him sad because it was the only time he had seen Castiel's true form. That was probably why he didn't remember; seeing an Angel's true form messes with human's heads.
"You were reluctant to believe that someone would come and rescue you then as well, but you were desperate to see Sam so you let me take you back. I rebuilt your body and I touched your soul. I felt close to you straight away but I tried to ignore these emotions because we weren't suppose to get close to humans, but the Angels found out," Castiel told him before leaning forward and softly pressing his lips to the corner of Dean's lips.
"What I'm trying to tell you, Dean, is that I have cared about you long before I saved you from hell and we began to work together. I have watched over you since you were born and I did not develop feelings for you because I was ordered to but because you are strong and kind and very righteous."
Dean shook his head again, closing his eyes as these words seemed to stab at his heart.
Please be real. Don't be a trick.
But he still didn't know. His heart was screaming that this was all real and Castiel was telling the truth. His head was telling him something different though. He suddenly felt warmth surround him and he knew it was Castiel's wings. He shook and his knees gave out. Castiel went down with him and they ended up kneeling on the floor, covered by black wings. Dean clutched Castiel's arms as the Angel held him close and they both cried.
"I want to believe," Dean told him, "I want this to be real...I want you to be real."
"I know," Castiel whispered.
"I'm scared Alastair is going to take you away again and I don't think I can handle it again," Dean confessed, "Not seeing you and being back down there."
He leant completely against Castiel, burying his face in his neck.
"You won't go down there again," Castiel told him, stroking his back and wrapping his wings tightly around Dean's body, "As you have contacted with my grace you have a place in heaven, nothing will change that."
With these words Dean felt like a massive weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He didn't know why because if he thought this was all a trick, why should these words affect him at all?
But instead of dwelling on it, Dean lifted his head up and smiled. It was slightly broken and messy but there was hope in it. He felt it and he knew Castiel saw it. Dean stroked his fingers down the tear tracks on Castiel's face, before leaning forward and pressing his lips to Castiel's.
Castiel brought his hand up to rest on the back of Dean's neck, the other on his hip. And this is what Dean had been waiting for. This kiss, this closeness, for too long. Their lips moved together and it was soft and warm and everything Dean hadn't known he was looking for. Castiel's stubble rubbed his skin, creating a slight burn but it felt nice. His hands felt strong on his body but they were also unbelievable gentle.
Dean wasn't use to this tenderness. The girls he hooked up with ere normally feisty and most of the time drunk. He was use to rough and messy and too fast.
But right now it felt like they had all the time in the world. Castiel's wings caressed his body from head to foot, every feather sending waves of pleasure through him. It felt amazing.
They stooped to take a breath and Dean opened his eyes. Castiel was staring back, his eyes glowing a soft blue. Dean quickly realised his eyes were glowing as well; green reflecting off Castiel's face. The Angel was smiling widely as they looked at each other.
"What's happening?" Dean asked.
"Our bond is reacting to our intimacy," Castiel answered, "It is healing."
"What is?" Dean frowned.
"Us," Castiel replied, before leaning in to kiss Dean again.
"He just gave it to you?" Sam asked, staring at the ring in Dean's hand. They were in Bobby's kitchen, with the older hunter and the two Angels. The other three rings were on the table.
"Yeah," Dean said, still feeling surprised. He had gone to Chicago with everyone because there was massive demon activity and they thought Death may be there. When they had got there they had started to fight demons and Dean found Death in a diner, where the horseman had just gave him the ring. Castiel had ran in after Death had disappeared, panicking that the horseman was beating Dean to a pump or something. Dean was just sitting there shell shocked though.
"He said that he was fed up of being Lucifer's bitch or something like that," he told everyone, setting the ring down next to the others.
"That would be understandable," Gabriel said, "Death takes his job very seriously and to lose control of that must be very frustrating."
"Well, we have all the rings now," Bobby said, going to the fridge and taking out a six case of beer, "we can finally get rid of the damn devil."
"Yes," Gabriel agreed, taking a beer from Bobby and looking away from the rings to the people around him, "but for now we should celebrate," and he held his beer up to clank it with everyone else's. Dean smiled and nodded. He tapped his bottle against Castiel's, who smiled back at him.
It had been a week since their kiss and not a lot of had changed. Dean still wasn't sure what was real or not but he was getting better at not treating everyone as a vision. Dean was having more and more moments where he thought that this was real and that it was the Angels who had taken him and filled his mind with images. He felt this warm feeling in him every time he had these thoughts. It was like he was pulsing with happiness and he knew it was his and Castiel's bond reacting to the fact that Dean didn't think Castiel was a lie anymore.
Dean wouldn't say it out loud though as he was scared. He was scared that it was all a lie and he was going to wake up in hell at any moment. Castiel could feel that Dean believed more in the reality he was currently in though so Dean didn't have to tell him.
That night they drank and laughed. Having Angels as friends was quite useful as they were able to conjure up alcohol at will so they were never short. Dean spent the night laughing at an unconscious Bobby, leaning against Castiel as they sat side by side on the sofa, and watching Sam try and fail to out drink Gabriel. It was quite an epic fail as well as Sam soon was lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and unable to get up. Gabriel didn't even look affected by the drink as he laughed at Sam.
"Come on, bed," Gabriel told him.
"No, I can keep on going," Sam argued, trying to sit back up. He fell back though.
"It's not fair, you're cheating Gabe!" Sam pouted, causing Dean to burst out laughing. He still found it amusing when Sam called the Archangel Gabe. At first they had both hated him but now Gabriel had done so much for them, it was hard for there to still to be hate there. Sam and Gabriel had seemed to get closer while Dean was gone. It had been a whole month though so it was understandable that they were closer than Dean was to Gabriel.
Dean watched as Gabriel easily picked Sam up and half carried, half dragged him up the stairs.
"Where does he go at night?" Dean asked as Gabriel and Sam disappeared.
"Gabriel?" Castiel asked, "He checks out any leads we have and makes sure all of our wards are secure and safe, he will probably be searching for Lucifer tonight."
Dean nodded, feeling tired and worn out. It had been a long day and the alcohol had left a pleasant drowsiness over him. He wanted to snuggle up against Castiel but Bobby's snoring stopped him.
"Come on," Dean mumbled and then stood up slowly, the alcohol making him sluggish but in a good way. He heard Castiel huff out a breath of amusement as he stood up and took Dean's hand. Dean smiled at him and dragged him upstairs.
Dean stumbled as he entered the room and Castiel caught him.
"You should go to bed," he said.
"That's where I'm going," Dean laughed, straightening up and turning so they were face to face, their chests touching. He leant forward to kiss Castiel slowly, moving his arms so they were wrapped around Castiel's waist.
"Come to bed with me," Dean mumbled on his lips.
Castiel nodded and Dean pulled away, taking off his shirt and trousers. He climbed into the bed and Castiel climbed in next to him. Dean shamelessly curled up next to him, his hand over the Angel's heart.
"What's wrong?" Castiel asked, sensing a very quick fall in Dean's mood. Dean was thinking of what Death had told him earlier. He had tried to shove it to one side because he didn't want to upset anyone but now that it was just him and Castiel it was hard to keep it buried. He wasn't good at keeping anything from Castiel.
"Just something Death said," Dean told him.
"What did he say?" Castiel asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
"He made me promise to get rid of Lucifer, using any means possible, even if it meant letting him take over Sam's body and Sam jumping into the pit with the devil in him," Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, his hand tightening into a fist, clutching Castiel's shirt, "And I agreed."
"Gabriel wouldn't let that happen," Castiel said straight away, his tone strong and sure, "He is strong and he doesn't want any harm to come to you."
"I just keep thinking of Sammy in hell though, I don't think I could bare it if I knew he was down there...getting tortured," Dean said, shaking.
"You don't have to worry about that," Castiel tried to reassure him, stroking patterns in his shoulder blade.
"But if it did happen, would you save him?" Dean asked, looking up at Castiel.
"Yes," the Angel said without hesitant, "I would save him."
Dean felt himself relax and his head fall back down onto Castiel's shoulder.
"Thank you," he mumbled. He felt fingertips on his forehead and then he fell into a pleasant sleep.
Dean panicked as he felt his hands and legs bound. He opened his eyes, expecting fire and chains and white eyes. Instead he saw Castiel unconscious and tied to a metal frame in a crucifixion position, mirroring the position he was in himself. There were circles and patterns around the base of the frame, keeping Castiel trapped and weak. They were in a warehouse which seemed empty apart from their selves and a few fog lights lighting up the space they were being held in.
Dean heard a sound to the side of him, a groan, and he turned his head to see Sam in the same position.
"Sam!" Dean hissed. Sam groaned again and his head lolled to the side. Dean could see blood on his face.
"Sam!" Dean yelled, feeling his blood run cold.
"Dean?"
Dean looked over to Castiel, who had woken up and was looking at him.
"Cas," Dean gasped, "Sam's hurt."
Castiel looked at Sam, studying him.
"He's in no danger, just a slight concussion."
"What happened?" Dean asked, feeling nervous, "Where are we?"
The last thing he remembered was arguing with Gabriel because he had found Lucifer and he was refusing to let them go with him. Eventually Sam had something to him and Gabriel's eyes had softened and he nodded.
The next thing Dean knew he was here.
"I don't know," Castiel told him, "But don't worry, we will get out of here."
Then suddenly a man appeared in the middle of the three frames. He looked like just an ordinary guy, with casual clothes and short dirty blonde hair, but the atmosphere in the room told Dean that this was Lucifer. It felt cold and the hairs on the back of Dean's neck stood on end and he felt scared. More scared then he had been of Alastair. He didn't let it show though.
"What have you done to Sam?" Dean demanded straight away.
"Just tried to get him to say yes, but he is being reluctant, as always," Lucifer sighed slowly walking over to Sam, "I've been trying to get him to let me ride his body since he released me from hell but he is very tight lipped."
Dean felt fury go through him as he thought of Satan in his little brother's head, torturing with God knows what.
"Stay away from him!" Dean hissed as Lucifer stroked the side of Sam's face. Lucifer laughed, turning to Dean and walking over to him slowly.
"It doesn't matter now, because I can claim another vassal," he told the human, "I don't need Sam if he insists on not letting me inside him."
Dean clutched his jaw tightly as Lucifer got closer. Dean looked over the devil's head to Castiel, whose eyes were wide in horror. He was struggling against the straps around his wrists.
"Michael is too fussy with his vassal, he could have chosen anyone like me," Dean had to control his snort as he looked at Lucifer's red and peeling skin, "He could have Sam if he wanted but he wouldn't go near a human who had drowned their selves in demon blood while having sex with them, and his one true vassal is you, and you have been in hell and fallen in love with another Angel, so Michael is not going to touch you with a ten foot pole, which benefits me as it gives me two compactable vassals to choose from."
"What do you mean?" Dean asked, but already knowing.
"You are destined to be Michael's vassal, as your Father was, and Sam is destined to be my vassal, as your Mother was, but because you have her blood in you I can use you as a vassal as well and you wouldn't waste away as quickly as this meat suit I'm currently wearing."
"No, stop," Castiel demanded, and Lucifer turned to him, smirking. Dean's blood run ice cold as Lucifer walked over to him. Dean started to pull against the straps keeping him trapped. He felt the ropes cut against his wrists and Castiel winced slightly, a soft glow appearing in his eyes but not enough to hide his blue iris. Green came through the ropes around his wrists and Dean stopped struggling, realising he was hurting Castiel.
"Sweet, little Castiel," Lucifer said, steeping over the circle and going up to Castiel, "When I last saw you, you were very young, just created and so naive; you, Balthazar and Anna were always attached to Gabriel's hip, asking about humans and God and Earth."
"Stop!" Dean shouted as Lucifer got closer to Castiel, circling behind him.
"And you snooped to his level and fell in love with a human; Michael's vassal of all people, it's incredible that he hasn't smite you down yet," Lucifer grinned, running his hand down Castiel's back. Dean could feel his fear.
"But it's all worked out for me because now you're going to help me get a vassal that doesn't fall apart."
Dean began to struggle against the ropes against, fearing what Lucifer meant. Lucifer grinned over Castiel's shoulder, looking right at Dean and then snapped his fingers.
Castiel gasped in shock as his wings erupted from his back, spreading out to their full length. Dean began to panic as two chains with hooks at the end appeared near the tips of each of his wings. Lucifer snapped his fingers again and Dean screamed in pain as the hooks attached to the wings, cutting through feathers, flesh and bone.
"No, stop, stop!" Dean begged, fearing the damage to Castiel's wings. Castiel was ashen white as he watched Dean struggling in pain and panic.
"I'll stop," Lucifer purred, so like Alastair, "When you say yes."
"Don't, Dean, you can't," Castile told, trying to claw his way out of the ropes. They were held tight.
"I am the one feeling the pain, why would I say yes?" Dean asked, gritting his teeth and glaring at the devil.
"Because he will be the one that dies," Lucifer replied.
"If he dies, then I die," Dean snarled. Lucifer just grinned.
"And then I will bring you back to life and wear your broken, empty shell," and then he grabbed a handful of Castiel's feathers and tore them out.
Dean's back arched forward as another scream erupted from his mouth. He bit his lip, panting as he looked at Castiel, who was staring back, shaking but not feeling the pain yet. Lucifer tore another handful out and feathers seemed to be everyone.
Dean managed to control the scream that time and glared up at Lucifer with his blue lit eyes, his jaw clenched tightly. The room was filled with the blue light flooding from his back. His heart beat picked up though as he saw a gleam in the devil's hand. Lucifer raised the Archangel's knife and Dean pulled hard against the ropes, twisting his wrists to get out and punch the song of bitch in the face.
"Leave him alone!" Dean shouted, knowing Castiel will feel it when the knife slices through his wings.
But of course Lucifer ignored him and placed the knife against the soft flesh of Castiel's wing. Dean shivered as he felt the coldness of it.
And he was screaming again as the knife was slowly dragged down. It felt like someone was burning his back with fire and it was eating slowly at his flesh.
"No, stop," he heard Castiel beg, tears in his voice, "He's only just started to believe that this is all a real."
Lucifer laughed, a hollowing sound.
"Yes, I heard about that," he said, "How our dear brothers took him and made him think he was back in hell."
Dean looked up, sweating and panting heavily, but glaring nevertheless. Lucifer was looking up at him, over Castiel's shoulder.
"I'm disappointed you actually believed it Dean," Lucifer smirked, "My brothers couldn't have captured the real beauty of the pit."
Dean didn't reply, instead saving all his energy to keep his glare on Lucifer and trying to get out of the hold, which was failing miserably.
"My brothers don't know about real torture," Lucifer continued, cutting another gash, this one quick and sharp. Dean bit his lip, his teeth cutting through skin as he barely kept the screams away.
"They know nothing of real pain, those visions would have been nothing compared to the real thing."
"What would you know?" Dean growled.
Lucifer sliced another gash and Dean shook, his back pulsing in pain. He could see Castiel shaking, pale and obviously in pain.
"I've felt pain," Lucifer said slowly, his eyes on Castiel's back as if he was concentrating on a painting, "My Father turned his back on me and then my brother, who I loved with all my heart cast me out of my home and locked me away in the darkest place in existence; left to rot amongst the vile humans who had caused all of it in the first place."
His eyes seemed to glow red for moment before he lifted his knife and began to lash out, fast and furious, at Castiel's back.
Dean didn't have time to comprehend what was happening as the slices were too quick. He heard Castiel cry out but Dean couldn't look up as he clutched his fist tight and squeezed his eyes shut. He screamed and felt the tears on his cheeks. His throat was soon red raw but he couldn't stop screaming. The pain was too intense.
Slice after slice. It was like Lucifer was taking all his anger out on Castiel's wings, and he had a lot of anger.
"Stop!" A voice suddenly bellowed throughout the room and it did stop. Dean opened his eyes to see Gabriel standing in front of him, looking at Lucifer, who was grinning back.
"Cas," Dean breathed when he saw the amount of blood on the floor. Castiel looked up, his eyes dull and his body limp.
"If it isn't my sweet little brother, Gabriel," Lucifer smiled, wiping his Angel blade on Castiel's coat to wipe it clean, "How nice of you to join us."
"Gabriel," Dean whispered, his voice more pained than he could stand, "Sam's hurt."
The Angel looked over at Sam and then back at Lucifer.
"He's fine, Dean," Gabriel told him under his breath.
"Still caring for the humans?" Lucifer asked, coming around Castiel and facing his fellow Archangel, "I heard all about your love affair with one of these filthy humans."
Dean could feel the anger radiating from Gabriel as he stepped forward. He had his Angel blade in one hand and his other was curled into a fist, covering the four Horsemen's rings.
"I also heard about how our brothers tore you two apart and killed her," Lucifer smiled, "And you thought I was bad."
"Release them," Gabriel demanded, circling around Lucifer so he was standing in front of Sam. Dean was glad because that meant Sam was protected. It gave Dean the change to concentrate on Castiel, who had his head bowed and Dean was sure he was unconscious. His wings were limp and bare in too many places. Blood was dripping on the floor into thick, red puddles.
Dean bit his lip, his whole body vibrating with pain. He felt sick to his stomach and his head was pounding from the blue light that was filling the room.
"Come on, little brother," Lucifer said, "I need another vassal, this one is so unattractive now."
"I'm not letting you take either of their bodies," Gabriel told him, "your argument is with our brothers, not them."
"The humans caused our Father to turn against me, it is only right that I take their home," Lucifer snared, "And it wasn't just our brothers that did this; Michael may have been the one to drag me down to hell, but you just turned your back on me, you hid on that little cloud of yours, watching the humans."
"I was doing what our Father had ordered me to do, don't blame me for your downfall," Gabriel growled, his fists tightening over the rings.
"So have you come to send me back to my cage?" Lucifer asked, his face turning angry.
"I've come to do Michael's job because he is rejecting his duties," Gabriel told him, "I would give anything for you to come back to heaven but I know you would just ruin it, like you ruined billions of humans' lives and afterlives."
"It's not my fault that humans like to sell their souls so they come become rich or more attractive, or more powerful," Lucifer nearly screamed.
"What about humans like Dean, who just wanted their brother back?" Gabriel demanded.
Dean could barely hear their exchange though as he was too busy trying to keep an eye on both Sam and Castiel.
"I have to listen to God's orders," Gabriel said, his voice quiet, "Earth and the humans are his most beloved creation, he doesn't want you, Michael or anyone else to ruin that."
"How can humans be his favourite creation?" Lucifer snarled, circling around Gabriel. They kept moving until Gabriel was standing on the edge of the circle, opposite Sam and Lucifer was standing in front of the unconscious human, too close for comfort.
"They're just filthy, hairless apes, who only care about their selves."
"That is why God loves them, for their imperfections, they are all his children," Gabriel told him.
"We are his children!" Lucifer yelled, taking a step forward.
"We are his soldiers!" Gabriel yelled back.
Lucifer glared at Gabriel and then his Angel blade was back in his hand and he lunged at Gabriel.
Dean watched through half lidded eyes, the energy draining from him. He was scared for Gabriel; he didn't want anything to happen to him.
Lucifer managed to cut Gabriel's arm and white light mingled with the blue and green light. Gabriel just came back stronger though and he threw his fists out so the four connected rings landed in the middle of the three frames.
Wind filled the room and the frame around Dean disappeared and he crumpled to the floor. He looked up but all he could see was a massive hole that was sucking all air into it. The other frames had disappeared as well and Sam and Castiel were both lying on the floor. Lucifer and Gabriel were standing at the edge of the hole, talking but Dean couldn't them.
Dean curled over to Sam, who was still unconscious and Dean could see that his face was bruised and he had a head wound that was still bleeding. He was lying on his front so Dean leant over him, shielding him from the wind and the loss bits of debris that was flying past their heads.
Dean looked up to see Castiel looking back at him.
"Dean," he heard in his head and Castiel tried to get up.
"Stay down!" Dean yelled but he couldn't hear his own voice over the sound of everything around them being sucked into the hole. Castiel stopped struggling though so he must have heard him. Castiel's eyes were full of desperation and he seemed to reach out to Dean.
"It will be over soon," Dean promised in his head and Castiel nodded. Dean pressed himself closer to Sam, keeping his eyes on Castiel. There was yelling and wind and things flying over their heads and then it was over.
The wind stopped and the hole disappeared. Dean tore his eyes away from Castiel to Gabriel. Lucifer was gone.
But Dean didn't want to celebrate as his brother was unconscious and there were feathers everywhere.
"Gabe! Gabe!" Dean yelled, his voice croaked by all his screaming. Gabriel ran over to them, kneeling down next to Sam.
"He's hurt," Dean told him, begging him. Gabriel just nodded, a silent promise that he would look after Sam, and with that promise Dean tore himself away from his little brother and started dragging his way over to Castiel, who was trying to get to Dean. His wings were too heavy though and were getting stuck in the blood around him.
"Cas!" Dean whimpered once they reached each other. He touched the exposed pink flesh, his hands shaking. Castiel reached up and gripped Dean's wrist tightly.
"Son of a bitch," Dean breathed though his gritted teeth, before placing both his hands against the two torn wings.
"Dean," Castiel mumbled, trying to get up by pushing himself up with his hands.
"Stay down, I'm going to heal you," Dean told him, and closed his eyes, concentrating hard. He felt energy fill him, rushing from his head through his body and down his arms to his hands. The blue light around him brightened and Dean could feel the gashes knotting together. He gasped with pain, only controlling his scream because of the feel of Castiel's hand on his arm.
"Dean, stop, you don't have enough strength to do this," Castiel begged, his grip tightening. Dean shook his head and opened his eyes. Castiel eyes were shiny green as they looked up at him.
Dean opened his mouth to reassure him but a scream erupted from his mouth instead as the feathers began to re-grow, thick through Castiel's bone and skin. Tears were in Dean's eyes as he bowed his head so his forehead was against Castiel's shoulder blades, just above his wings. He faintly heard Castiel calling his name but he couldn't focus on it. His whole body was shaking and all he could feel was pain. He could feel each individual feather growing and stretching and it was agonising.
The pain very, very slowly dulled as the wings become whole again.
As soon as Dean felt the last cut stitch back together and the last feather slot back into place, he fell forward and to the side, next to Castiel. He was panting, his head spinning. He opened his eyes and looked at Castiel, who was staring back, his eyes wide and afraid.
Dean wanted that fear to go away so he reached over and stroked Castiel's cheek slowly. Dean smiled, his mind going foggy.
"I did it, Cas," he mumbled, "I fixed you."
Castiel nodded, covering Dean's hand with his own. Dean tried to keep his eyes but all his strength was gone. He heard Castiel say his name as darkness surrounded him.
Dean gasped as his eyes flew open.
"Dean!" A voice exclaimed as he tried to focus on his surroundings. All he could remember was pain. A lot of pain, and black feathers and blood. All of that seemed a distant memory though, overshadowed by white eyes, and red teeth, and black eyes staring back at him in the reflection of a silver knife.
"Dean?" The voice asked again and Dean turned his head to look at Castiel, who looked pale and tired. He was gripping Dean's hand tightly, the dark shadows beneath his eyes illustrated by the light coming from the lamp on the bedside table. It was dark outside.
"Sa-," Dean started, but began to cough as his throat was dry.
"Sam's ok, Gabriel healed him," Castiel told him, knowing straight away that Dean would want to know how his brother was doing, "He is in bed at the moment."
Castiel then held a glass of water up to Dean's lips for him to drink. Dean gulped it down greedily; the cool water smoothing his sore throat.
"How about you?" Dean asked once he could speak again.
"You healed me," Castiel smiled, though his eyes were moist and Dean could see the agony in them. Dean frowned and reached out to stroke Castiel's cheekbone. The Angel's breath hitched slightly and he covered Dean's hand with his own, leaning into the touch. Dean felt a sense of déjà vu and he realised that he had passed out like this; their hands touching and all he could feel was Castiel's skin.
"I'm sorry," Castiel whispered and Dean stared at him for a moment, confused.
"What for?" He asked. Castiel bowed his head and shocked Dean by letting out a shaky sob. Dean tried to sit up but his arms were two weak.
"I tried to stop the dreams but my powers are weak so I couldn't all of the time," Castiel told him, sounding wrecked.
"What dreams?" Dean asked, trying to gently coax Castiel to look up by pulling his chin up, but the Angel kept his face down, as if he was ashamed to look at Dean.
"You kept having nightmares," he told Dean.
"Really?" The hunter frowned. Castiel looked up then, his eyes red from tears. Dean had seen him cry a few times but he had never had red eyes.
"Don't you remember?" Castiel asked.
"Not really," Dean answered, "bits and pieces but nothing solid."
"I thought you would dream of hell and then forget that this is real again," Castiel told him. Dean smiled softly which was kind of goofy from the fogginess still clouding his mind.
"What does our connection feel like?" He asked, his hand on Castiel's thigh. Castiel was silent for a moment, before swallowing back his tears and smiling shyly at Dean. It hit the hunter how human he looked.
"It is strong, probably the strongest it has ever been," Castiel told him. Dean nodded and then pulled on his arm. Castiel took the hint and crawled up next to Dean, who turned over so they were facing each other. Dean wiped Castiel's flushed cheeks with his thumb, wiping the tears away. His stubble was slightly longer and he looked tired.
"Are you human now?" Dean asked quietly.
"Not yet," Castiel answered, "But the power you used to heal me the other day has speed up the progress."
Dean bit his lip and went to speak but Castiel stopped him before he got the chance.
"Don't apologise," he said, "the only reason I have to regret falling is that I will be unable to heal you or help keep your nightmares away."
"You need to stop worrying about me," Dean whispered, moving closer so his forehead was against Castiel's shoulder. He took a deep breath, inhaling Castiel's scent. He smelt of fresh air and vanilla. Dean could almost smell the faint scent of beer and blood. The smell that Dean knew lingered on himself.
"Won't you lose your wings and your connection to heaven?"
"None of that matters," Castiel told him, running his hands down Dean's back, "I'll be with you, that is all that matters."
Dean could feel Castiel's lips against his temple and he could feel the smile against his skin. Dean looked up and captured Castiel's lips with his own. He felt Castiel relax completely against his as he kissed back. Their hands wrapped round each other as they held each other close. Castiel's lips felt chapped and his stubble was rough against Dean's cheek, but it was still the best kiss Dean had ever had. He could feel his whole body lighten up and a wave of pleasure fill him.
The kiss was deeper than any kiss they had shared before. They broke apart, panting but smiling. Dean cupped Castiel's face, bringing their foreheads together.
"You need to shave," he chuckled, rubbing the dark stubble. Castiel ran a hand over his growing beard.
"I have never shaved before," he said.
"I'll teach you," Dean told him and Castiel smiled. His eyes shone and he got little wrinkles around his eyes. He looked so happy.
"Will you teach me other human customs as well?" He asked. Dean laughed, feeling light and free.
How could he ever doubt that Castiel was fake? They had been through so much and Castiel made him feel so happy and safe. Dean only felt safe when he was with Castiel. Even when he had thought he was still in hell, he felt safe when he was with Castiel, wrapped around his body or knowing that the Angel was near him. And now that Dean had finally realised that he was no longer in hell but on Earth, he felt like everything was going to be ok.
Because he did believe he was back on Earth and it was because of Lucifer. Lucifer had been right. The Angels hadn't made hell as bad as it really is, just enough to make Dean forget. If he really had in hell Alastair would have been more creative in his tortures, and there would have been more hell hounds and raping and Alastair would have changed forms to mess with Dean's head a bit more. He still had nightmares about Sam tearing off his flesh and burning his eyes.
He shook his thoughts out of his head as he watched Castiel yawn. It was weird knowing that the Angel was tired and that was because he was becoming human, but Dean had to smile as Castiel curled up against him, nuzzling the gap between his neck and shoulder. Dean ran a hand down his back, burying his nose in his hair.
"Are your wings ok?" Dean asked, remembering how they were when he last saw them. He shivered thinking of all the blood. The air shifted around them and Castiel's dark wings were around them; black, silky and whole. Dean smiled, stroking a hand down the wing that was covering him. He felt Castiel sigh and settle down against him.
"Can we go to sleep now?" He asked, sleepily. Dean chuckled, still gently running his hand through Castiel's feathers. He kissed his hair and leant their heads together.
"Yeah," Dean mumbled before they both drafted off to sleep.
Dean sighed as he leant back on his elbow, swigging a beer as the hot sun beat down on him.
Gabriel had mojoed them to Greece and they were sitting on an empty beach. Bobby was asleep on a deck chair, his nose pink from the sun. Dean was sitting on a towel with a cool box of ice and beer next to him. Castiel was sitting crossed legged the other side of him, making a sandcastle. He had a look of hard determination on his face.
Sam and Gabriel were in the sea, splashing each other and playing on body boards. Dean wondered if they realised how close they had gotten as Sam playfully nudged Gabriel. They probably had, Dean reasoned. Sam was a lot smarter than he was and caught on pretty quickly. Plus they shared a room all the time.
"Done," Castiel announced happily and Dean had to laugh at how much like a child he sounded. Dean leant over to look at the very elaborate sandcastle. Castiel had managed to add in a lot detail, from windows to individual bricks for the walls.
"Wow," Dean said, leaning his chin on Castiel's shoulder, "My first sandcastle was just lump of sand with a shell on top."
"I'm sure it was beautiful," Castiel told him.
"Well, I punched Sam when he broke it," Dean chuckled, "If it had been as good as this I probably would have killed him."
"Over sand?" Castiel asked, confused.
"Mmmm," Dean said, turning his head and kissing Castiel's bare shoulder, "kids are sensitive."
He then pulled a beer out of the cooler and gave it to Castiel, who twisted off the top and took a gulp. Castiel still had some of his powers, but he now needed to look after his vassal by eating, drinking, sleeping and cleaning. It had been fun to go shopping with him as the Angel was very confused about why he had to change every day. It seemed he was actually really attached to the trench coat and it had been near impossible to separate him from it. Today though he had managed to leave it at home, and was lounging on the beach in just shorts. He had shivered when Dean had put the cold sun cream on him to prevent him burning.
"You forgot to do your nose," Dean told him, touching the pink skin. Dean felt the sting himself and he smiled to himself. He knew the connection was going to be gone soon and they wouldn't be able to feel each other's pain soon. It was bittersweet in a way, as Dean hated it when Castiel was hurting and he didn't want to be the reason behind that pain, but at the same time Dean would no longer be able to take Castiel's wounds for him.
"I still don't understand why I need to put this stuff on," Castiel complained as Dean got the tub out of one of the bags that Sam had brought along.
"To stop you burning, sun burn can be a bitch and if you are serious about being a human you need to learn to do annoying stuff like this," Dean told him, squeezing a tiny amount onto his finger. Castiel watched as Dean rubbed it on his nose, his eyes going criss-cross for a moment. Dean laughed at him and then leant in to kiss him. It was a slow kiss and Castiel smiled at him lovingly at the end of it. Dean didn't mind showing affection for Castiel in front of his brother and Bobby, as they were both understanding and accepting of their relationship, and plus Dean found it hard to resist sometimes.
Dean smiled back at him and then leant against him, looking at their brothers playing in the water. It was peaceful on the beach and Dean found himself smiling, lacing a hand around Castiel's wrist and stroking his skin their absentmindedly.
"You feel happy," Castiel said quietly a little while later. Dean kissed his skin again and he felt the Angel shiver.
"I am," Dean mumbled and then learnt forward as he saw a something buried near Castiel's castle. It was a shell, with the top just sticking out of the sand. Dean dug it out and looked at it. Castiel leant forward to look at it as well. It was small and there was a chip on the side but there was something about it that made Dean think it was beautiful. It was pale, but had light grey lines through it, shining in the sunlight. Castiel took it from him and placed it on top of the sandcastle.
"There you go, now it is our sandcastle," Castiel told him. Dean laughed and nodded.
"Ok."
He pulled Castiel down on the towel and they laid side by side. Dean used Castiel's arm as a pillow and put his own arm over his eyes to stop the sun getting in them. His other arm was stroking Castiel's thigh lightly. Castiel laid on his side, facing Dean. Dean could feel his smile even through his closed eyes. He opened them, meeting the blue orbs.
"The sun feels nice, I never realised before how warm it is," Castiel told him, "And the sand is also warm, like it is happy."
Dean kept looking at him, listening as the Angel continued.
"I'm glad that I am able to feel these textures and temperatures now, I like being human, even hurting is better than feeling nothing."
Dean nodded and smiled at his Angel. He could feel how happy Castiel was through their connection. He wanted it to always be that way and he knew he could fight for the rest of his life to make Castiel smile and be happy, and he couldn't wait for it and he knew Castiel couldn't either. Even when Castiel does fall, Dean knew their connection would still be there. As Gabriel described it, they were no longer two but one, and, as Dean stared at the blue eyed Angel who was speaking so fondly of simple things like sand and water, the hunter knew he would have it no other way.
-Fin-
