Accepting the Dark
Summary: 1-shot. Sam's lured into a trap, which shows him just how far Dean's fallen and what this side of his brother will do to gain what he wants. *hurt/in shock/angsty!Sam and very dark!DemonDean.* See full warning. Spoilers for season 9 finale. Dark fic!
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Warning: Alright so I'm flat out saying this is a dark piece. It's basically hurt with very little to no comfort so be aware of this and the following: this piece contains graphic non-con/rape so it will also have a trigger warning. It also has violence so please read this warning carefully before reading the story.
Spoilers: Yes, there will be some.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Beta'd By: Jenjoremy
Author Note: So I'm finishing up a fluffy piece of J2 when this evil, dark, super dark okay fine pure dark plot bunny pokes its head up and won't let go so…this is a take on just how far demon!Dean might go when still wanting Sam. Blame the bunny as this is one of the few that I end like this one does.
SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN
Present, a warehouse someplace in Kansas:
"Why did you call me here, Dean? You and Crowley made it quite clear that the man you were is gone. You will remain the creature you are now until Sam and I find a way to remove that mark…and even then I'm not certain that you will return to your old self given the damage that's been done."
Castiel had been wary when he'd received the sudden call from a man he once had called friend, a man he had personally dragged out of the pits of hell to save him from becoming what it now appeared he had become anyway. His only reason for meeting the former hunter at this out of the way warehouse was the name he'd mentioned.
"You spoke of Sam, so I came out of the loyalty I still have towards your brother. I know the man you once were, the man who used to threaten me for insulting either your brother or your car, would want me to take care of Sam…if he will let me. So tell me why you called." The angel took a wary step into the building, very much suspecting either an attack or a trap but he was not expecting what he found. "No. No! What in my Father's name have you done, Dean?"
Dean Winchester, or whatever he had become, took a step back as the trench-coat wearing angel forgot about traps or risks and hurried across the bloodstained cement floor to kneel beside the unconscious, bloody, nearly broken young man lying naked and shivering, chains loose on the floor, as if no longer needed to bind him.
"I called you to heal him…and to make certain this doesn't happen again." His tone was nearly normal, only the slightest hard edge betraying the emotion he felt as he looked past the furious angel to the unconscious form of his younger brother…the brother he'd once sworn to protect with his life…the brother he'd loved in every possible way…the brother he'd just spent the past 12 hours violating in the worst ways imaginable…the brother he knew he'd use again when the time came to appease the need of the Mark.
"What have you done to him?" Castiel's voice was hard and cold; he no longer sounded like the friendly, human-loving angel who had been sacrificing for humanity, for the Winchesters, since he'd met them. Instead, he sounded very much like the pissed off angel that he was as he knelt beside his battered friend, wincing as he realized that not only had Sam Winchester been raped, but he had also been marked in ways that only a demon could have managed. "Remove them!"
Dean smirked, green eyes darker than normal, but not fully black. "What? You still can't pick a lock?" He sneered, and then frowned as the building shook. "Temper, Cas. If this blade could've killed Metatron, I think it could take you out."
"Remove the spell chains around Sam's throat!" Castiel could easily see the invisible chains and marks, but he knew that humans couldn't. He realized that Dean could also see these, but he suspected Sam would only be able to feel them. It made him sick to think of how far this proud hunter had fallen, so quickly and so fully, that he could have done this to his brother. "What did you do?" he demanded again, palm lying flat over the barely rising chest, and he took in all of the damage that the younger boy had endured. "Dean!"
"I did what I had to do." Dean shrugged, but this time his tone changed just a bit, and he turned away to look to where a long narrow cage hung near a bed and a low bench, all of which were covered in blood and other things the angel knew were bad. "I made him accept the dark…I made him mine…"
Twelve Hours Earlier:
"Cas? Hey, why didn't you just come to bunker instead of asking me to meet you here?" Sam Winchester was tired and it showed in his voice as he stepped into the darkened rundown warehouse where the text message from their…his…angel ally had said to meet him.
Even since he'd learned what had happened to his brother, Sam had been burning the candle at both ends. He not only needed to find a way to remove the Mark that had been tainting his brother, but he also needed a way to heal him once he did since technically Dean had died the night Metatron stabbed him.
"Castiel?" Sam frowned, stepping a little further into the building, but freezing as he felt the air around him change. The door slammed shut behind him and a wash of power darker than anything the hunter had ever felt before, even darker than Lucifer's power, seemed to grab hold of him and force him to his knees. Something sharp touched his throat and a strong hand grabbed a handful of his long hair to pull his head back. "No," he groaned, terror building because he knew the touch of the hand even before he looked up to see the familiar ruggedly handsome face of his older brother…or what had been his brother because this Dean, his Dean, had pure coal black eyes.
"Guess you'll never stop falling for that fake text message trick, little brother." Dean's smirk was cruel, the knife he held drawing blood, as he watched the flicker of emotion cross the face of the brother he'd once cared for…the one he still cared for…when he was in control. "Wanna know why you're here, Sammy?"
"Don't…call me that," Sam gritted, hissing at the feel of the blade edge skimming his throat. He tried to fight against the power holding him, but he was helpless as he was jerked to his feet. His stomach clenched as he felt invisible hands tugging at his belt. "No! No way! Let me…argh!"
Pain shot up his arm even though Sam didn't feel anything break…yet. He panted through the pain, icy fingers crawling up his spine as he heard Dean continue speaking.
"Y'see, little brother, this Mark doesn't just want blood. It also wants sex…and it doesn't want sex with just some random person." Dean reached up to dig his fingers into the soft flesh of his still straining brother's jaw to hold it still while he ran the tip of the blade, a normal blade, not the one made of bone, down to the hollow of Sam's throat, enjoying the fear he could see on that pale face. "It wants sex with the same person that I want sex with and that, little brother of mine, is you."
"Fuck you!" Sam spat, trying to jerk his face out of the fingers holding it. He continued to struggle helplessly against the power that began to move him across the floor of the warehouse, deeper into it. "You're not my brother! Dean wouldn't…he wouldn't do this…not like this!" He had to still believe that.
From the second he had learned the truth Sam had been fighting against what his gut wanted him to accept. His brother, the man he'd grown up idolizing and loving, was dead and this black eyed thing inside his brother's body was not Dean. Because out of all the dark and kinky games they'd played since crossing that line years ago, Dean would never rape him, but as he was dragged across the floor to see what was inside the building, he knew this thing had every intention of doing that and more.
Sam already knew holy water and the demon-killing knife wouldn't work, but so far he hadn't been able to try an exorcism. When he looked to where he was being taken and saw a large bed with chains and ropes attached to it and a low bench with several clamps and restraints, he began trying to fight the power more, but it was the sight of the long narrow gilded cage hanging from the ceiling that had him truly starting to panic. The cage was low to the ground and barely large enough for a man to fit in, and the hunter knew he had to try something so he began the exorcism ritual.
He'd only gotten the first few words out when a surge of the dark demonic power swept over him and it felt like something filled his mouth, choking him and cutting off his air.
"No…there won't be any of that exorcism crap, Sammy." Dean shook his head, twisting the handful of hair again to force his little brother to look at the cage while those invisible hands finally got his belt off and began to work on his jeans. Cold black eyes met watery hazel ones that were wide with both fear and knowledge. "The Mark controls big brother, or the piece of him that's still inside, the piece that might not normally do this. The demon inside the man wants to play, little boy, and when you come back around, it'll be time for you to accept the dark that has just claimed this ass."
Sam wanted to refuse, he wanted to fight, to even beg Dean not to do this, but no sound would come out of his mouth. He could feel it opening and closing, but it still felt like it was filled with something that kept sliding deep into his throat and making him gag and gasp for air.
"I've owned this tight ass since the first time you gave it to me, Sammy." Dean…no, his brother's voice wasn't ever that low or cruel…this thing spoke low in his ear as Sam's jacket and shirts were pulled off along with his jeans, underwear, boots and socks, leaving him naked and shivering but not just from the cold. "Now I'm going to show you what owning you really means and what the new rules are…once you wake up."
Unable to scream, to shout for help that he knew wouldn't come anyway, to appeal to the piece of his brother that might still be left inside, Sam was reaching a stage of panic that he'd only reached a few times in his life. He continued to struggle, confused to why the asshole would expect him to wake up when he wasn't unconscious…a second before a strong familiar arm wrapped around his throat to skillfully begin to choke him out.
Terror built rapidly because Sam knew he had no help coming and no way to fight against the dark energy this thing with Dean's face wielded. He was quickly losing the battle to stay conscious when he jerked at the feel of hot lips against his ear. This, whatever was about to be done to him, was bad enough but the sudden almost gentle touch of lips kissing his temple was like a dagger in his heart. So were the last words he heard before he felt a cold, slimy darkness begin to pull him down.
"Trust me, it'll be better if you're asleep for this part." Dean seemed to hesitate, arm tightening just enough to take Sam the rest of the way out. "I'm sorry, kiddo."
Minutes? Hours? Days? Sam had no idea of how much time had passed since he'd been choked into unconsciousness. His brain felt fuzzy as he struggled to fully wake up and for the first several minutes he had a hard time recalling what had happened. Then it suddenly all came flooding back and his instinctive reaction was to move, to fight, but he quickly realized to his abject horror that fighting was not only impossible but also useless.
He wasn't just tied in some way, but he could also feel cold metal all around him, so he knew he was trapped in that damn cage. Sam shifted carefully, testing his bonds. His arms had been tied behind his back, and as more awareness came back, the nausea built because he realized he'd also been forced to crouch as much as possible in the cage with chains running up from his ankles to join the ones on his wrists and biceps.
The position would've been uncomfortable and humiliating anyway since he was basically naked in a cage, but being forced to crouch with something keeping his legs spread as far as the cage would allow made it even worse…and that was before Sam started to feel the creepy, slimy dark power oozing around him, near him, and even inside him. He realized that although he wasn't being physically raped at the moment, he was being molested by the new power coursing through Dean's veins.
Finally working up the guts, Sam opened his eyes only to gasp in horror. He could only make out the vague outlines of shapes around him; it was almost like he was looking through frosted glass. Sam tried to scream, but all that came out was a low whimper, and to Sam's sick and broken heart he suddenly realized that whatever was gagging him was also moving around his mouth like a slick tongue.
"Hey, little brother, I did that for you. I figured seeing my eyes right now might hurt you, so I decided to give you a break and temporarily took your vision." Dean's voice spoke from nearby but not as close Sam expected it to be. "I'll give it back when I'm done…maybe. After all, you wouldn't be much of a hunter without your eyes."
Sam was already fighting terror and anger when he felt something else that had him all to close to throwing up. Even without his eyes he could still hear, so he knew Dean was at least a few feet away, probably sitting in a chair or something so he could watch him try to squirm and fight once he woke up. As his head cleared and full awareness returned, he began to feel the full effect of Dean's power, and his stomach twisted in horror. Dean was several feet away, but he was fully in control of the goddamn fucking power that was currently raping him.
He tried to scream as a surge of power that felt like fingers, or worse a whole hand, was shoved up into his ass, moving with intent while a thinner tendril of power could be felt wrapping up his limp cock. To Sam's horror, he felt it begin to move like it did when Dean's hand used to jerk him off and with a whimper, he felt his body starting to respond to the unwanted touch.
"Y'see, the thing with this power now is that I can do anything I want to you without even putting a hand on you, Sam." Dean sounded amused by that. He also sounded aroused by what he was seeing. "I wish you could see what I see, little brother. That long hard body crammed into a tiny gilded cage, forced to crouch like that with a bar between your thighs to keep them spread while my power fucks your ass…while it rubs your cock…oh yeah…I want you hard, Sam. I want to make you so hard that even though you want to fight this, even though you're probably cursing at me in your head, if I back off what's fucking your mouth and gagging you, you'll end up begging me."
Dean smirked as he watched the cage shake as Sam's body shuddered. He'd been hard from the moment he'd finished tying his brother up and placing him in the narrow cage the way he wanted. Now as he watched the body try to resist the power he was using on it, as he watched those trapped hips be moved by the force of his power, he had to clamp down on his own desire to avoid ending things too quickly. He relished the feel of his power taking his brother like he had once and would do so again…when he was done playing.
Unsnapping his jeans and lowering the zipper to get some relief for the moment, Dean pushed up from the chair that he'd been lounging in and gazed at the naked flesh. If he concentrated enough, he could feel his brother's skin under his hand, and he gave a cold smile as he moved closer to the cage.
"You will beg me before I'm done, little brother. But for the moment, if you don't want to gag yourself or choke, then I'd start pretending that's my cock in your mouth. You need to suck because that's the only way it won't keep growing." He slid a finger between the gilded bars and pressed against Sam's bottom lip. "Suck, Sam."
That was the last thing Sam wanted to do. He didn't want to pretend or participate in this horror more than he was being forced to already, but as he felt the power currently roaming his mouth grow suddenly and begin to slide down the back of his throat, he realized he had no choice if he didn't want to be choked to death.
"That's my boy." Dean's voice dropped, and it sounded like he was congratulating a pet on learning a new trick as he felt Sam's lips shakily close over the tip of his finger to begin to hesitantly suck. "Good boy, pet. Now suck faster. I'll let you use my finger until you get used to doing it."
Now Sam was glad he couldn't see. This was bad enough without having to look into those damn black eyes as soft fingers stroked back through his sweat soaked hair before beginning to trace over his throat.
"Use your tongue," Dean commanded. His finger slipped in more, and he used this distraction to trace invisible sigils into Sam's already abused skin. He also allowed the power he was using to move inside Sam's ass and against his prostate to thin from hand shaped to a tendril with little offshoots that could touch, rub, and probe around the red, torn rim along with the inner muscle walls and over his sensitive prostate.
The Mark required blood as well as sex, and it had taken great pleasure in physically abusing the unconscious hunter with both fists and knife before putting him in the cage. A small piece of the man left inside him cringed at the bruised, bloodied body, but Dean's lips curved at the tears he watched roll down pale cheeks.
"Let me explain the rules of this new relationship," he began as the sigils he traced glowed until forming something only he would be able to see over Sam's throat. "I could so easily keep you a slave 24/7. I could keep you caged or chained up for my amusement all the time…but I don't want you like that, Sam. I don't want to break you. I still like to see that little spark inside that believes I can be saved, and hell, I won't even try to stop you from doing that…so long as you understand how this works."
Sam was struggling to pay attention, but it was difficult to concentrate with the invasive power sliding over and around his prostate while also rubbing over his cock and squeezing his balls. The sounds he made came out as whimpers or moans which only served to increase the strength and feel of the energy tendrils currently assaulting him. As he suddenly felt warmth wrapping around his throat, his useless eyes went wide as a memory flooded over him… he'd felt this before…in the Cage. Lucifer had put a collar on him that was invisible to anyone but those with the power to see it. Sam hated collars under any circumstances, but this one, this one he hated most of all.
As he helplessly arched his neck against the feel of the collar, he forgot to keep sucking. "… …no…" He managed to get the word out even as he was choked. "… …De'n…ple…please."
Whether it was the shortened form of his brother's name or something else, Sam wasn't sure but suddenly whatever was gagging him was gone and strong fingers gripped his jaw. "Speak!" Dean's voice was hard but there was just something under that crack of power that still gave the captured hunter a faint hope. "You feel what's on your throat, don't you? You feel the collar that marks you as mine, and unlike the real chains, when I let you go…this will stay on to remind you of who you belong to…and when I want you? When I want to fuck you or touch you? Then no matter where you're at or what you're doing, all it takes is a snap of my fingers and you'll be wherever I am. You will be where I am…and this is how I'll want you to be."
The sound of the cage opening rocked Sam but not as much as the burst of power that pulled him roughly from inside the narrow confines to land painfully on the cold cement floor. He landed on his knees but before he had the chance to realize the heavy chains had moved, Sam gasped when those same fingers gripped his throat even as the tendrils still moved and he felt his cock dripping as it was stroked and his balls fondled with invisible hands and power.
"When I call for you, you will be naked and chained either at my feet, on a bed, over a bench, or in this cage. You will learn to accept what I do because while I won't break your will or spirit, I also won't let you fight me too much." Dean saw the twitch of a jaw and knew how much those words would affect his brother since controlling Sam had never been a thing between them before…but he wasn't that man anymore or not all of him was. "If you don't fight me, or at least don't fight too much, then I won't hurt you too badly and I'll control the amount of power I use when I fuck you without touching you." His fingers touched dry, cracked lips and he heard a small whispered plea to not fill his mouth again.
"You…you think I'll…just let you rape me…whenever you're bored?" Sam's voice was low, ragged and shaking, his throat raw as he tried to tense his body only to feel it forced to move in whatever fashion Dean and this power desired.
"Learn to not fight me and it doesn't have to be like this, Sam." Dean cocked his head as if considering while moving his hand enough to get Sam's body on his hands and knees before locking the chains back on his wrists, adjusting the spreader bar to open his legs wider, and adjusting the other chains to so the space between wrists and ankles was shorter. "I can give you pleasure like I am now even if you're still too stubborn to give in to the power and accept it, or I can take what I want with a lot of pain."
Sam couldn't help the snort that burst free even if it came with a harsh painful slap to his bare back. "You…you think this doesn't…hurt?" he gritted, trying to ignore the feeling of the tears on his face. He was torn between wanting to see so he could glare and being glad he was blinded so he wouldn't have to watch what else would be done to him before this nightmare was over.
"Ask yourself how much more pain you'd be in if I wasn't being careful or numbing it, smart ass." Dean grabbed a handful of hair to jerk Sam's head back painfully and detested the inner cringe at the sight of those damn tears. He felt the Mark burn on his arm and a surge of power made the younger hunter scream as it felt like his ass was suddenly being split in two by the dark energy.
"D…don't do me…any damn…favors," Sam gritted between clenched teeth before his brain could remind him that this was not the brother he could push to a certain point before Dean backed off. No, this was something totally different and he knew he'd made a mistake a second before it felt like his whole body was lifted off the ground and driven back onto his hands and knees with so much force that Sam was certain had just broken a kneecap and possibly a bone in his arm.
"Okay then, maybe next time you'll learn when to keep that mouth shut…learn to be nice to the guy who owns this ass." Dean's eyes somehow looked even more hollow, blacker, as he eyed the metal bench with a slow smile, fingers pulling long hair while something in his hand hooked to the collar only he could see and control. "Now, the gloves come off and I stop being nice."
Heavy metal clamps flipped open with a look and he dragged a still struggling Sam across the floor by the lead he'd attached to the collar before yanking him forward to close the first restraint over his neck. "You're gonna figure out, Sammy, that pushing me now won't get you anywhere but locked over a toy like this bench or hooked to a nice little piece that will make things in the Cage look good." He fastened both wrists into their slots while driving his knee into the small of Sam's straining back to force him down more while power pulled long legs apart and his ankles were clamped down.
Stepping around to the front of the bench, Dean liked the pale cheeks and the wide sightless eyes that he knew would be clouding with shock by this point as he gripped his jaw with enough force that it would leave deep bruises. "Y'see, I know all your secret, and not so secret hang-ups, little brother. And what I didn't know, what you'd managed to hide from me…well, Crowley picked up on when he visited your brain. Pissing me off? Not a way to earn good merit points. It also might make me change my mind about letting you go when I'm done.
"I could keep you trapped on this bench, bent over just right for me…or I could hold you in place on all fours like the pet I plan to make you one day…hell, I could even loan you out for favors with some of Crowley's pals." Dean smirked at the sound he heard over that final threat but shook his head as if he could be seen while bending close so his lips were against Sam's ear, tongue licking wetly over the shell as he felt a weak shudder. "But I don't plan to do that. You see…the one thing that hasn't changed about me is that I still don't like to share…so unless you really piss me off, that's one threat I won't carry out. You mine," he growled. "Say it!"
"…Y…yours!" The power was no longer holding him in place, the bench was now doing that, but Sam could still feel it molesting him even as he felt the weight of a hard body stepping up behind him. Sam could feel rough denim brushing over the raw skin of his ass and before it really clicked was about to happen, a sharp, burning pain raked through him as Dean shoved his engorged, hard and leaking cock into his ass without any warning or lube. While the power that had been and was still moving inside the tightness, it hadn't been nearly enough to even begin to prepare him for something as huge as his brother's dick.
"Fuck, so damn tight and hot, little brother," Dean groaned, body shoving forward with rough, raw grunts of lust. And while he was now seeking his own pleasure with the need to cause the younger man as much pain as possible, he still hit that spot within Sam to force a reaction even as he used his power to halt Sam from coming if he wanted to. "This…this is what I missed about you. Not the attitude, not the constant arguing, but this tight, hot ass. It feels so damn good to take you like this: no prep, no worry…just using you but…uhh…got more plans for you while I fuck this ass."
Sam tried to bite down on the pain, but it became impossible when the first tendril of power slipped between his trapped legs and over the slit in his cock. His scream echoed in the warehouse until something cut it off, be it power or pain.
There had been a time that Sam thought nothing could be as bad as his time in the Cage with Lucifer and Michael. Now he realized he was mistaken as he struggled to stay conscious despite the brutal violent acts being forced on him. The huge cock never stopped moving in his ass and the power still slid inside him, making him quiver with sick terror. Invisible fingers worked his cock while something held the base so his body would feel the need to come but was helpless to do anything more than thrust although the immovable steel held him tightly.
Sam began to lose consciousness around the third time Dean came in his ass, filling him with come and forcing it to stay trapped there until some small part of Sam thought he could feel it actually distorting his body.
When the crack of leather hit and burning pain shot through him as tender skin tore, all of Sam's resolve to not beg broke and the last thing he recalled before he could feel shock and pain finally pulling him under to the blissful release of darkness was the feel of the onslaught slowly coming to an end.
He felt Dean pull out with a soft groan…heard the dim sound of a zipper being pulled up. He wondered if he really had the strength to flinch at the feel of fingers in his hair, a touch that was so familiar that he thought he'd sobbed his brother's name right before his already blank world went dark.
A snap of fingers loosened the clamps, allowing Sam's limp, battered, and abused body to fall to the cold floor where it lay unmoving.
Dean's jaw twitched as he reached for his phone and placed a call. "Hey, Cas…I think you need to meet me…unless you want Sam to pay the price."
Present:
Castiel had known, feared, when he learned the outcome of Dean's 'death' that it would have dark consequences, but never in all his life as an Angel did he think the man he'd known would slink so willingly to become something he'd been taught to hate and kill. He'd never once believed the man would ever do what had been done to Sam.
He'd known about the unorthodox relationship the brothers had moved into years earlier. It had once been of great concern to his superiors but from the first time he'd seen the Winchesters together, he'd realized that while immoral by heaven's standards and illegal by human standards, Sam was probably the sole living person in Dean's life that he honestly loved.
The often naïve angel had believed that…up until this moment. "Remove the collar. Remove the taint that has blinded him. Remove the other marks you thought I wouldn't see…remove them or I swear on the Hosts of Heaven that I will use every ounce of this Grace that I have left inside me to smite you down!" Castiel had only shown a portion of his true power once to Dean and while he might be running low on power right now, he would risk it. "He's your brother! You once told me that nothing…no one would ever come before Sam in your heart! What happened to that, Dean?"
"My heart stopped beating thanks to your buddy Metatron," Dean replied simply, keeping his back to the angel and the injured hunter when a soft moan was heard, his fingers clenched. "You want me to tell you what happened to that man, Cas?" He turned and within a blink he was in front of the stony faced angel, fingers wrapped in his trenchcoat. "Your side and hell happened to me. Heaven and hell have played us since even before our parents met! You've been playing me! Only instead of Sammy going darkside like everyone thought he would given the whole demon blood addiction and being Lucifer's perfect vessel, it was me who ended up turning." He smirked with just a bit of his old irony. "Maybe you guys were watching the wrong Winchester all these years."
As Castiel considered that another sound, this time a whimper of pain was heard, and sudden sharp green eyes looked down. "Can you heal him?" Dean asked, a slight change in his voice as he took in his brother's naked, bleeding, and shivering body.
"I…I will if Hannah cannot." Castiel knew the injuries Sam suffered would be a strain on his weakening stolen Grace, but he was prepared to risk it if the other angel refused to help him.
"You think another angel will help him given heaven's opinion of Sam from the start?" Dean sneered, fingers that he'd stuffed into his pockets twitching. "Help Lucifer's vessel?"
"Given that Michael's vessel is now bearing the Mark of Cain and has turned into what he hates the most, as well as the mistakes made in Heaven recently, I think very few of my brothers and sisters are in a position to throw stones at Sam." Castiel removed his trenchcoat to lay it gently over Sam, covering him while offering a warning glare. "Remove what you caused."
Dean considered it for a long moment, until a soft whisper that only his ears picked up had his lips thinning and he slowly knelt beside his brother, sensing that the angel had moved closer as if seeking to protect if he felt the need.
With a drawn out disgusted sigh Dean moved his fingers over the bruised skin at Sam's throat to feel hot skin but also felt the mark he'd put there, the collar, melt away. He slid them over his shallowly moving chest to make sure anything else he'd put in place to control was taken back.
Slowly, carefully, more carefully than Castiel expected, Dean turned Sam to his back to stare at the pale, bruised face, the cheeks stained with blood, sweat, and tears before leaning closer to lay his palm over closed eyes while whispering something in Sam's ear that had the angel's brows lifting.
Dean whispered one final thing then paused before standing up to brush a butterfly soft kiss over chapped, bloodied lips.
"Do you still?" Castiel asked with some degree of doubt and mistrust as he moved to ever so carefully gather the injured hunter in his arms to leave this place.
Walking away Dean paused, refusing to look back. "The part of me that still remembers carrying him out of burning house, the part that sold my soul and went to hell for him, the part that has done everything just to keep my pain in the ass little brother safe will always love him." He looked down at something in his hand before turning to toss it the angel while continuing. "It's the black-eyed son of a bitch side that has a harder time remembering that, and that's why you're going to find a way to make sure that this this, what happened here, can never be done to him again…or I will rip your goddamn wings out of your back."
A rush of wings told the former hunter that Castiel was gone and he was alone…nearly. "What I did is on me. If you or any of your fuckin' demons try to put hands on him, then I will use this blade on every single one of you until the halls of every level of hell run with your blood," he growled and shoved past the dark suited, eyebrow lifted King of Hell before he could say a word in return.
"Well, this should be a bloody cheery ride to wherever," Crowley muttered with a deep frown as he took in the warehouse and the leftover images. "Bloody Hell, what have I created?"
The End
