Desperation.
A human emotion, devastating in its simplicity. It creeps silently into the heart and into the mind, burrowing deep into the soul. It leaves a gaping hole in the chest. It controls the very actions of its victims, forcing them to do things they'd never dream of doing on their own.
Castiel had hit desperation days ago.
It's a funny thing, that an angel would feel such a human emotion so poignantly. Perhaps it was because he was an angel that he's been so incapable of quelling the ache inside him. Castiel hasn't had enough practice processing the feelings swirling inside of him. He feared he'd never be able to. He feared a lot of things.
His search for Dean has only gotten more and more frantic since he parted ways with Sam. Unable to cope with the growing hole in his chest, Castiel had let Sam down. He'd let his guard down for only a moment, but it'd cost Sam the use of his arm for weeks. Castiel wondered if Dean would be angry with him.
If I find him, I'll ask. Castiel thought, then sighed deeply. "When, not if," he said aloud.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Castiel turned his attention back to the task at hand. The last demon Castiel had gotten his hands on told him that this particular demon, the one he was about to summon, would be able to tell Castiel where Dean was. Muttering the incantation under his breath, Castiel dropped a lit match into the bowl of ritual ingredients at his feet. Immediately, he found himself face to face with what looked to be a slightly irritated accountant.
"Well isn't this an unpleasant surprise," the demon drawled. Castiel fiddled impatiently with his angel blade.
"You know what I want," he said. The demon glanced nervously at Castiel's blade.
"I'm not sure what you mean," he replied.
"So you don't know where he is?" Castiel took narrowed his eyes. "That's not what I've heard.
"It's not that I don't know where he is," the demon began, fiddling with his tie, "but there's nothing you could give me that would make ratting on him worth it."
Castiel stalked forward and raised his angel blade, pointing it directly at the demon's throat. He didn't have the patience for the slimy ways demons talked. Summoning demons was something he never enjoyed and Castiel was growing increasingly irate.
"Not even your life?" He threatened. The demon shifted his weight from foot to foot, glancing behind him before cautiously pushing the blade away from his throat with a single finger.
"Look," he whispered, leaning towards Castiel, "You can't tell anyone I even talked to you, alright? You don't know what he's like. Death would be a gift compared to what he'll do to me."
If there's one thing you can count on, Castiel thought, it's the cowardice of demons.
Castiel remained silent, twirling his angel blade and regarding the demon suspiciously. The other demons he'd come across had said similar things. So far, none of their leads panned out. Castiel wasn't feeling optimistic.
"I'm listening," he deadpanned. The demon sighed, straightening his cuffs.
"Last I heard⎯" The demon cut himself off with a strangled cry and pointed behind the angel. Alarmed, Castiel whipped around as a blade flew past his head and embedded itself in the demon's chest. His heart skipped a beat when he recognized the intruder.
Dean laughed jovially as he walked past Castiel and pulled the First Blade from the demon's corpse.
"There's just no such thing as loyalty anymore, is there Cas?" He quipped.
Castiel was frozen.
Dean looked exactly the same. Same cocky smile, same bowlegged stance, same everything. Castiel knew every inch of this body and soul; he had rebuilt each molecule himself.
It was the eyes that created a pit in Castiel's stomach. A flash of black, empty as the night. Soulless orbs. Dean smirked and blinked, returning his eyes to the summer green Castiel was accustomed to. Castiel could feel the desperation clawing its way up his throat, choking him.
This was not his Righteous Man.
"Still, it was a good throw," Dean continued speaking, either unaware or uncaring of the tornado of emotions crashing over the angel. Castiel strongly suspected the latter.
"Dean⎯" Castiel's finally found his voice, although it was strained from the effort.
"What's the matter Cas? Aren't you glad to see me?" Dean took a step towards Castiel, twirling the first blade. "I hear you've been kicking up a storm trying to find me. You know I can't resist when you get all smitey," a wink, "Well here I am!" Dean flung his arms open in a mocking invitation.
"Dean, please. Come with me." Castiel replied. He wished he had some way of restraining Dean. The demon handcuffs, a spell, anything. He wasn't sure if his fading angel strength was a match for a knight of hell. He certainly hadn't prepared to come across Dean today. "Sam and I, we can fix you. We can⎯"
"I ain't broken, Cas." Dean interrupted, eyes flashing.
Castiel glanced to Dean's forearm. The Mark of Cain was covered by Dean's clothing, but Castiel could feel the darkness emanating from it. An involuntary shudder ran down his spine.
"The Mark. It's corrupted you. You wouldn't be this way if it weren't for Crowley⎯"
Dean cut him off with a wave of his hand.
"Don't bring your hate-on for Crowley into this," Dean snapped. "As for the Mark? All the Mark did to me was take away my inhibition. This is who I really am." Dean took a threatening step towards Castiel, still fiddling with the First Blade with a false nonchalance.
Castiel stood his ground. "You're wrong," he insisted, "let us help you."
Deep green eyes surveyed him; Dean seemed to be considering whether or not he'd like to murder his former best friend. Castiel wasn't entirely sure he could stop Dean if he decided to try. After a long pause, Dean smiled mischievously and tucked the First Blade into the back of his jeans.
"You came here to make a deal with a demon did you not? How about you and me make a deal, Cas?" Dean stepped forward once more until he was less than a foot away from Castiel. His free hand came up to fiddle with the lapel of Castiel's trench coat.
Castiel stiffened. He honestly hadn't expected to make any kind of headway in his quest to locate Dean, and suddenly Dean was within arms reach. The angel was feeling woefully underprepared for this. He swallowed.
"I don't have a soul to trade, Dean." Castiel replied, steadfast. Dean's face betrayed no emotion.
"I suppose you don't," Dean's hand moved to Castiel's tie, pulling on the knot and tightening it around his neck "but I want to know what you're willing to give up."
"Anything." Castiel's reply was immediate. He was determined to save Dean's soul, no matter the cost. Wasn't that the goal? Dean's answering smile sent another chill down Castiel's spine. He'd never seen such a malicious expression on that face.
"Your Grace? Your life?" Dean's breath ghosted Castiel's face. He was only inches away now.
"Anything," Castiel repeated. "If you come with me to the bunker and let Sam cure you, I'll give you anything you want." Castiel could do this, for Dean. He'd die a thousand deaths for Dean. The angel cautiously raised his hand, a little awkwardly due to the lack of space between them, palm up. "Do we have a deal?"
Castiel barely had time to flinch as Dean's fist collided with his mouth and sent him tumbling to the ground. Castiel scrambled to get up, but Dean was faster, pinning him down before he could move. Perhaps Dean had decided he'd like to murder Castiel after all.
"A handshake, Cas?" Dean teased in a surprisingly light tone, given the circumstances, straddling Castiel's waist and pinning the angel's arms above his head. "You of all people should know that crossroad deals are sealed with a kiss."
Castiel was suddenly painfully aware of the compromising position they were in. Was Dean really suggesting..?
Dean seemed to take a sick pleasure from Castiel's conflicted expression. He released Castiel's wrists and threaded one of his hands into the angel's hair, pulling his head back sharply. Dean's other hand gripped him roughly by the throat.
"Pucker up, angel."
Dean's mouth smothered Castiel's protests. His lips pressed violently into Castiel's own, and Castiel found himself unable to resist much at all. The kiss was heady and hot and strangely metallic, and Castiel idly realized that Dean had bitten his lip so hard that he'd drawn blood. Castiel's head felt muddled. He could feel the wrongness of the kiss; Dean was too violent, too vindictive. Despite this, it still smelled and felt like Dean, and Castiel's body was responding in an embarrassingly human way. Dean's tongue felt both violating and arousing as it invaded his mouth. The angel found himself arching subconsciously into the kiss, groaning quietly as Dean's hand tightened around his throat.
This isn't Dean, Castiel told himself as Dean moved his mouth to Castiel's neck, sucking roughly at the sensitive skin.
"De-an," Castiel tried to speak, but it came out as more of a moan. This was so wrong. Castiel knew this was wrong. Dean captured Castiel's mouth again and he barely suppressed another groan.
"Not complaining, are you Cas?" Dean murmured sarcastically against his lips. Castiel attempted to compose himself as Dean began unfastening his tie.
"Our deal, Dean," Castiel breathed, pushing Dean back a few inches and sitting up on his elbows. Dean stilled his hands and leaned back to look Castiel in the eyes. His hair was mussed (when had Castiel run his fingers through his hair?) and his lips were slightly swollen. Castiel swallowed, trying to dampen his shame. It scared the angel, how much he'd enjoyed being ravished by Dean.
Castiel just needed to get him to the bunker. Everything would be okay if he could just get Dean to Sam. Although, Dean was probably going to punch Castiel in the mouth for kissing him like that.
After a moment of deafening silence, both interlocutors carefully examining one another, Dean burst into cruel laughter. He shoved Castiel back onto the concrete floor and pushed himself up. Castiel sputtered ungracefully as Dean began to walk away, trying to ignore the surprisingly devastating loss of Dean's body heat. He leapt up after Dean, clothes and hair in disarray. Dean had managed to get his tie undone, after all.
"Dean! We made a deal!" Castiel cried after him. Even if it meant his life, Castiel would deliver Dean to Sam, to salvation. Dean turned his head and replied with a sly smirk.
"I'm not a crossroads demon, Cas. I don't make deals. But thanks for the kiss!"
Castiel sunk to his knees, and Dean was gone