Ahh thank you so much for the support. I am glad you are enjoying this. :D.
Let's hope this isn't too confusing.
. . .
Dean just lay in his bed as he thought about Alastair being at the prison. And his father. His dad was alive and fine…he was going to get him out one way or another. Now he just had to find this 'Sam' guy that had the same name as his grandfather.
"Hey Cas," Dean said, not even realizing he already nicknamed the guy until he spoke.
"My name is Castiel…or are we acquainted enough for pet names," Castiel said in a low voice.
Dean lifted his eyebrows, "Uh…Sorry, I didn't mean any offense," he said.
Castiel chuckled, "I'm just messing with you," he said, "What's going on?"
"Do you know someone named 'Sam Campbell'?" Dean asked casually.
It was completely silent for a few moments before Castiel rose, his eyes narrowed, "What do you need with him?"
Dean bit his lip as he sat up, "I just need to talk to him about something."
"I know Sam," Castiel said, his eyes returning to their former softness, "I will tell him you asked."
"No, I need to talk to him," Dean said, narrowing his eyes back, "Either you tell me or someone else does."
"Alright. Tomorrow at lunch. Table in the back, you'll find me with him," Castiel said slowly, "I suggest you aren't late."
Dean nodded, now wondering what his dad was getting him into with talking to this Sam guy. He watched as Castiel turned before sliding his shirt off. Dean wanted to look away but he found his eyes roaming over the smooth, lightly tanned skin. He also noticed the several scars covering the guy's lower back. His eyes then set on the two large, intricate and absolutely bad ass looking feathered wings tattooed on this guy's back. It all then clicked into place. He would recognize that tattoo anywhere. That and the name. He now remembered who Castiel was and how he knew him.
"I've seen you," Dean suddenly said, "Well, I've seen you on TV."
"Have you?" Castiel asked before sliding on a new shirt.
"Yeah…there was a special on about you," Dean said, wondering if he was digging his own grave.
"There is a show about me?" Castiel asked with a head tilt.
"Well, an episode about what you did and when you were caught," Dean said, staring at this guy who just seemed too innocent to have killed eight people.
"Well, what is said on television is not always true," Castiel said flatly.
"Some call you a hero," Dean said after a moment before lying down on the bed. He felt as Castiel slid into his own spot. It was silent for the rest of the night.
. . .
Dean scanned the chow area for where he was supposed to meet Castiel. He stiffened when he felt a hand wrap around his waist before pulling him against a body. All he needed to hear was the familiar sound of purring to know it was Alastair. Dean took a deep breath, fear icing his veins as memories piled through his brain. He couldn't even react as lips brushed his ear, "Been a while. Did you miss me?"
"Go screw yourself," Dean snapped, spinning around to be face to face with one of the men who ruined his life.
Alastair smirked and Dean noticed he was a lot bigger than he remembered, "You disappoint me, Dean. Did you not listen to anything I taught you?"
Dean ground his teeth, noticing how a lot of eyes were on them. A few guards were moving closer, each making sure a fight wouldn't break out.
Alastair smirked at Dean before winking and walking away. Dean watched closely, his heart pounding against his ribcage. He could feel his body start to shake as more memories seared through his mind, making him feel sick to his stomach.
He gasped, his heart leaping as he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He spun around, lifting his fist to slam into the culprit. He felt his knuckles connect with bone as the culprit stumbled back from the hit.
"Hey!" a guard shouted and Dean instantly snapped out of it, watching as the room became silent and he was face to face with a tall, muscular man with shaggy brown hair.
The man stared down at him, his eyes filled with a darkness and Dean wasn't sure why but something about this guy was familiar. The man wiped his mouth with his sleeve before taking a deep breath, "I heard you wanted to talk to me," he said, glancing around as the others went back to what they were doing.
"Who are you?" Dean asked firmly.
"My name is Sam Campbell," he said, "come over to the table."
Dean nodded and began to follow Sam over to a table near the back where Castiel was sitting with two other guys. One of them was short with amber-gold eyes and the other was taller and thin with light blue eyes.
"Hello Dean," Castiel said slowly.
Sam sat down in his spot beside the shorter guy, "Alright…what do you have to say?"
"I was told to tell you that the righteous man sheds blood," Dean almost whispered as he leaned over the table.
Sam, Castiel and the short guy each glanced at each other knowingly and the taller guy with blue eyes just seemed amused.
Sam gave him a long look, "take a seat then."
Dean took a deep breath and glanced around to where he could see Michael standing up to watch him on one side and Lucifer on the other. Dean sat down between Castiel and Sam.
"You are going to tell me where you heard that," Sam said first.
"From a guy I work with," Dean said flatly, "I won't say his name but he told me to find you and tell you that."
Sam nodded and glanced over at the shorter one, who Dean realized had a very unique aura about him.
"He's got the top secret clearance," Sam said after a moment. He turned back to Dean, "Someone really cares about you."
Dean nodded, wondering what exactly his dad was doing to get him out.
"So I guess you should meet the gang…you know Castiel," he said.
Dean nodded.
"I'm Gabriel," the shorter man said with a smile.
"Call me Balthazar," the taller, blue eyed man said.
Dean gave them both a nod, "Dean."
"Well Dean, you're entire prison routine is about to change," Sam said, "follow me after this. Don't bother going to your assigned work."
"You realize Zachariah is going to want more money," Balthazar said.
"What part of 'top secret' do you not understand?" Castiel said in a low voice, "Obviously, someone is already taking care of that on the outside. You need to worry about what happens in here."
Balthazar just glanced at Castiel then nodded, "Fine. Then I have to go now," he stood up and left without another word.
"So what was that over there with ol' Al?" Gabriel asked.
Dean shook his head, "Oh that guy?" he asked, motioning to where he could feel Alastair's eyes on him, "He was just trying to intimidate me."
"Really? Because it looked to me like you two know each other," Sam said with narrowed eyes.
"Just someone I knew on the other side…and I can tell you I don't like him," Dean said in a low voice.
The three others at the table exchanged looks then turned back to Dean.
"Well, you're in now," Sam said, "There are things you're gonna need to know."
. . .
Dean was then informed all about the escape. Sam apparently was an absolute genius not to mention he had been working on the break out for three years now. It was all going to happen in two weeks from then. He was informed about what his title, 'top secret' meant. He was to be protected and one of the first to get through to freedom. From there, the ones working on the outside would take care of the rest.
Sam told him all about who was escaping. It was going to be Sam, Dean, Castiel, Gabriel, Michael, Lucifer, Balthazar and Crowley. Balthazar and Crowley were the go to guys if Dean needed anything. Balthazar would charge a lot but he was amazing as getting weapons. Crowley was great at gathering information and drugs or whatever else anyone wanted. He would either make a price there or strike a deal and collect later. He was warned to watch out about that part for if he didn't make good with his deal, he'd be dead that same day. Zachariah and Uriel were the two guards who were in on the break out.
Dean followed the others as they were walking out to a building that was in between two guard towers. It looked halfway broken down with the other half brand new. They were stopped outside of it by Uriel, who gave them all a nod before opening the door.
The moment the doors closed, Dean found himself being backed against the wall by Lucifer.
"Knock it off, Luce, we have work to do," Sam snapped as he yanked the boards off of a section of the room.
Dean just glared at Lucifer, who smiled and stepped back to help yank on the wood panels.
"Ignore him and you'll be fine," Michael whispered as he walked by to pick up tools.
"So how did you get so lucky as to join this little operation?" Crowley, as Dean guessed, said in a smug accent.
"None of your business," Dean said flatly as he walked over to see the supposed hole that had been being dug for the escape. It was behind the wood paneling, an open space with no doubt a fairly large tunnel.
"So how did all of this start?" Dean asked as he painted one of the other walls to make it look like work was getting done.
"I'll tell you more later," Castiel whispered to Dean as he glanced at Balthazar and Crowley. Dean remembered the 'security' thing and how only certain people knew certain things.
Dean nodded before continuing his work.
. . .
Dean bit down on his lip as he stared at the open stalls where the prisoners showered. He wasn't so much afraid of being naked around other men as he was with worrying about the questions that would no doubt rise once he showed his body.
"Get going or we'll share," a voice growled and Dean felt himself shoved by a man he didn't recognize. He took a deep breath before dropping his towel to stand under the surprisingly warm water. He could feel it washing away the filth of prison.
"Ooh look at those scars," Alastair's voice rung out and Dean closed his eyes, praying he was just imagining it. He turned to see Alastair staring at him with hunger in his eyes.
Dean knew his scars were bad and he had tried to cover some of the worst ones with tattoos but that didn't hide hardly any of them. All of the scars were from the four months with Alastair, who was too good at what he did.
"How I'd love to work on that canvas again," Alastair said before licking his lips and walking away.
. . .
"You have a lot of scars…what are they from?" Castiel asked as their rec time went on.
Dean glanced down from his bunk. Castiel was leaning against the wall.
"Not really in the mood to talk about it," Dean said simply before hopping down. He watched as Castiel nodded and pulled out his notebook.
"Do you want to know the real reason I started to kill?" Castiel asked.
Dean lifted his head in interest, "Yeah," he said.
Castiel nodded and closed his notebook, "It started when I was 17," he said, "I was living in my home with my father, brother and adopted siblings."
Dean lifted his eyebrows, "How many adopted siblings?" he asked.
"Three," Castiel said flatly, "the brother who still lived there, his name was Raphael. Gabriel had run away years before."
"Gabriel?" Dean questioned, wondering if it was the Gabriel who was there.
"Yes, the Gabriel who is here," Castiel said.
"I didn't know you two were brothers," Dean said, honestly surprised, "That was never mentioned in the show."
"Of course it wasn't…hardly anyone knows," Castiel said simply.
Dean nodded, "You look nothing alike," he noted.
Castiel smiled, "We get that," he said, "Gabriel takes after our mother."
Dean nodded and stared down for a moment as he thought about what it would have been like to have a brother. He was supposed to have one. He was four when his mother gave birth but all Dean knew was that it was a still born.
"When I was 17, my father took off without a trace, leaving Raphael custody of me and our adopted siblings," Castiel said, staring ahead, "The first thing Raphael wanted to do was get rid of them. He wanted them back into the adoption agency."
Dean lifted his eyebrows, not knowing this stuff. The show wasn't too specific on the past or details.
"So I started to fight for custody because I loved them and I knew that my father wanted them to be taken care of," Castiel explained, "To make it short, I won the battle. Gained full custody."
"That's good, right?" Dean asked.
Castiel just stared down, "I was supposed to get them the next day after that," he said, "I never got to see them again. Raphael killed all three of them."
Dean felt his stomach turn as a wave of nausea rolled over him. He didn't even know what to say but he knew Castiel wasn't expecting anything.
"When I found out," Castiel started, "Well, let's just say Raphael didn't make it very far. I killed him right in the home where we grew up."
"Sounds like he deserved it…" Dean growled under his breath.
"That was the moment I realized there was nothing left to lose. Gabriel was gone, my father was gone and my younger siblings were gone," Castiel said, "So I turned over a new leaf and realized my mission in life was to take out the evil and protect the innocent."
"You know there is nothing wrong with that," Dean said, "You took out so many bad guys that you were like my idol."
Castiel just gave a small smile, "I've heard that before."
"And the angel wings spray painted around their bodies is brilliant," Dean added, something inside of him fluttering to actually meet the guy he used to admire stories about. His dad actually used to tell him about the murders.
Castiel smiled, "Yeah," he said, "I am an angel of the Lord."
Dean couldn't help but smile as his heart skipped a beat, hearing those words. He had heard about that being Castiel's other trademark saying but he never thought he'd actually hear the words from the man himself without being murdered.
It was silent for a few minutes before Dean spoke, "I used to work with Alastair," he said.
Castiel turned to him, "You did?" he asked, seeming honestly surprised.
Dean swallowed thickly before nodding, "Yeah…from when I was eleven until I was fifteen," he said.
"How did you meet Alastair?" Castiel questioned and Dean figured he knew Alastair's reputation so it was obvious what Dean's line of work was.
"When I was ten…I was taken right off the street while being the look-out for my dad," Dean said slowly, not wanting to relive the memories but it felt so good to get it off his chest.
Dean decided to continue, "I was brought to an abandoned warehouse…Alastair…he started torturing me for information on my dad. Three months straight of pure torture; he was really good at what he did," he explained, shivering at the memories, "He knew how to keep me alive and conscious so I could feel everything."
Castiel's eyes gained darkness to them as he listened.
"I never gave up information on my dad so Alastair changed his method. He said he'd stop if I picked up the scalpel to torture others for him," Dean said, his stomach turning with guilt, "It only took me one more month after that to break. I picked up the knife."
"I don't blame you," Castiel said after a moment, "You were still a child. I am honestly surprised you lasted that long. I know of Alastair's methods."
Dean had no idea why but that made him feel a little better, "My dad ended up finding me years later. He brought me to safety."
"How did you get started in the life?" Castiel asked curiously.
"When I was four, a man came into my home and murdered my mother. That's when it all started," Dean explained, "I didn't know anything about what my dad was doing until I was eight."
"Have you found the man responsible?" Castiel questioned.
Dean shook his head, "Not yet," he said, "though with my new set of skills, I was getting pretty close."
"When we get out of here, I promise to do whatever I can to help bring that man to justice," Castiel said firmly.
Dean nodded and gave a small smile.
"Do you have any siblings?" Castiel asked as he glanced out of the cell then turned back in.
Dean shook his head, "No…just before my mom was killed, she had a still born. I was supposed to have a brother."
"I'm sorry," Castiel said slowly, "Do you know what his name was?"
Dean gave a small nod, "Sam," he said, "He was named Sammy."
Castiel thought about it for a moment, "How old are you?" he questioned casually.
"Twenty eight," Dean replied without thinking. He had no idea why but he felt comfortable around Castiel.
"Interesting," Castiel said, recalling that Sam Campbell was twenty four. It could have been coincidental but from the fact that Sam grew up without knowledge of his mother, only that he was given away just after birth seemed to make Castiel more curious.
"How old are you?" Dean asked.
"Twenty six," Castiel replied quickly.
Dean jumped a little when he heard a bang on the cell door before Zachariah appeared, "Winchester, visitation," he said flatly.
Dean nodded and instantly followed the guard.
. . .
Yay! Next chapter written. I hope it was okay for you all. :D
Please leave a review with your thoughts and/or suggestions.