TUESDAY, APRIL 29TH. 3:27 AM
Dean looked around, feeling a faint sense of deja vu. The desolate three story building, the red dirt in dunes all around them, the cold wind nipping at his face. He looked to his side, expecting to see Castiel standing next to him, but the space was empty. He heard a sudden shout and looked up. Cas was crouched over, several feet away, blood dripping through his fingers. Dean could feel panic crash through him like a tidal wave. Cas was hurt. Cas. Cas.
"Cas!" He shouted, hearing a faint beeping. The other man looked up, eyes wide.
"Dean! Go!" He yelled, looking too pale, red dirt coating his clothes and smeared all over his face. Someone grabbed at Dean's shoulder but he shook them off, running towards Castiel. He was a couple feet away when the man collapsed, and Dean started running at top speed, vision going red.
Fear gripped him like he'd never felt before. It slipped into his veins and clutched at his lungs, making every breath hurt.
He could hear the beeping getting louder and someone yelling his name, but he ignored it, dropping to his knees and gently lifting Cas up and into his lap. All that mattered was the man in his arms. He shook him, called his name, received no response. He looked up, and the building exploded, fire engulfing everything.
"Dean! Dean, hey, it's okay. I'm right here." He was being shaken, a warm hand on his chest.
Dean shot up, too hot and too cold, shaking and flicked on the light, suddenly realizing that it was just a dream, and Cas was right there. Perfectly fine. He let out a breath that ended in a small sob, reaching over for him, and was enveloped in warmth. Castiel's hand stroked his side, trying to soothe him. They stayed like that until his tremors subsided, his breaths evened out.
Cas shifted, moved them so that they were lying on their sides. "Which one was it?" He whispered.
Dean closed his eyes and pulled Cas closer to him, touching foreheads. "The one where you get stabbed. And then everything explodes." Dean had never told him the exact details of this nightmare. He never wanted to.
Cas sighed. He'd been doing much better lately –– this was his first one in two months. He leaned in and shared a slow kiss.
"We've still got a couple hours until you need to get up…" Cas trailed off. Dean gave him a small smile, understanding Castiel's intentions.
"Do we?" Dean teased, nibbling at Cas' bottom lip.
Cas hummed and smiled, letting Dean's hands roam. They grabbed at his ass and his breath hitched; Dean's leg slotting through his. They continued to kiss with years of practice, sucking hickeys into each other's skin, letting their arousal build into a slow simmer.
Dean groaned and rolled away, rummaging in their drawer for the lube. He pressed it into Cas hand, flipping them so that he was straddling his hips, hissing at the brush of skin against sensitive skin.
"You sure?" Cas breathed, a hand on Dean's hip. Dean was still fragile, and Cas knew they shouldn't be fucking like two horny teenagers in a bathroom stall at a Led Zepplin concert. But it was tempting. Very tempting.
He nodded, moving farther up Cas' chest. He felt nails drag up and down his sides before the click of a cap and the coolness of fingers trailing around his rim. One pushed in up to the first knuckle, but pulled out before Dean could really get used to it, and he huffed. Cas slapped his ass and told him to be patient, knowing that Dean wanted it rough and fast to drown out everything in his head, but that would only be a temporary bandaid on the whole thing. He dipped two fingers in this time, but still pulled them out barely two seconds later, and Dean groaned.
Cas dug his nails into the flesh of Dean's ass and growled. "I'll tie you to this bed if I have to."
"Oh yeah?" His smirk was back. "And then what'll you do to me, hmm?"
"Exactly what I'm doing now." Castiel replied.
Dean narrowed his eyes and called him a tease, earning another slap; but let Cas continue until they were both flushed and panting, little groans escaping through sloppy kisses.
"Sam –– fuck –– Sam's coming over for dinner tonight." Dean gasped, slowly lowering himself down onto Cas' erection.
"What should I make?" Cas asked, letting out a shaky breath as Dean started slowly rocking back and forth.
"Some of your – some of your garlic bread – 'n spaghetti."
"Okay. Will you be home by the time they get here?"
"Yeah." And then Dean moaned, having shifted a little to get to the spot inside of him. "God, Cas. Fuck me."
They both picked up the pace, thrusts getting harder, Dean falling down on Cas' dick the same time Cas' hip snapped up. Dean gripped the headboard, letting out breathy moans as Castiel dragged his nails over Dean's ass and lower back, heat blossoming and adding to the fire already raging underneath his skin.
"Fuck, Dean. Dean." Cas moaned, his vocabulary reduced to curses and Dean's name. He took a deep breath and rolled them over, their rhythm barely broken. Dean gasped, a rush of lust burning through him, having forgotten about Castiel's strength. They slowed down and breathed for a minute, Dean gripping the base of his cock so he wouldn't come with just the feeling of Cas throbbing inside of him.
"Are you at the Shelter today?" Dean panted.
"No."
Cas hitched Dean's legs up so that they wrapped around his waist, still buried balls deep inside of him. He placed a pillow behind Dean's ass, and Dean's dick twitched, fairly certain he was about to get the fucking of his life. Cas leaned forward and captured the other man's mouth with an open kiss, licking into his mouth, dominating him in a way that made him shiver. Something between a growl and a moan slipped from one of them, neither sure who it was but not caring either way.
He thrust forward with a snap of his hips, hard enough that Dean could feel it in his throat. Dean could tell the regular Cas was gone. This was the Hot Bedroom Cas, the one who dominated Dean for pleasure. Which turned Dean on in a weird way he hadn't really examined and really didn't want to.
Cas' mouth wandered, moving to the sensitive part behind his ear and down to his jaw, nipping and sucking and marking until he was out of breath. He pulled back and snapped back in, making the headboard hit the wall with a dull thump. Dean almost shouted, hands fisting the sheets like his life depended on it. Again, Castiel pulled back until only the head of his cock was left inside, then shoved himself back into Dean with enough strength to make his insides burn. He was grazing Dean's prostate with almost every other thrust. He set up a ruthless pace, thanking god that there were no neighbors on the other side of the wall, murmuring filth into Dean's ear. Dean was nearly whimpering, looking completely debauched and wanton, muscles clenching eagerly around Cas.
Dean's soft chant of Cas, Cas, Cas matched the knock knock knock of the headboard and the loud slap of skin agains skin. Castiel could feel his impending orgasm and picked up the pace, chasing his building pleasure. He ducked down and planted his mouth right on Dean's adam's apple, making the man gasp loudly. He nibbled and sucked a hickey onto the fading one, getting a broken Cas, please that made him groan. He rested his head on Dean's chest, letting his arm press lightly into Dean's throat, the man's gasps getting shallower.
"Cas. Cas, g-god please. Please Cas, need you. Need you to come." He pleaded, and Castiel moaned loudly, slamming into Dean again and again.
"Come for me, Dean." Cas choked out, brushing Dean's hand away and stroking him once or twice and then he was coming with a shout, white-hot pleasure burning through his body, honest-to-god seeing white behind his eyelids. Cas removed his arm and thrust into him a couple more times before coming, brushing against Dean's prostate and sending a new wave of pleasure blazing through him. That was it, he was done, gone, buh bye. He was fairly certain his brain had fried, reducing him to incoherency and whimpers. Castiel gave two stuttered thrusts before pulling out and collapsing next to him, both of them panting like they'd just ran a marathon.
Dean couldn't move his limbs, didn't want to. He was getting the beginning of that pleasant ache that came with a rough fuck, losing a battle to keep his eyes open. They stayed like that for a while, riding out their post-orgasm haze for as long as they could.
Dean fell asleep and woke up again to the sound of a shower running, his naked lover smiling at him from the doorway. He couldn't help but smile back, his brain still foggy with endorphins.
"Hey."
"Hey. There's a double expresso on the table, I figured you'd need it."
"Hmm. Love you."
Cas smiled at him and turned, walking back into the bathroom.
Dean reached over and fumbled for the expresso, squinting as the alarm clock swam into view. 7:34 am.
Shit.
He scrambled out of bed, grimacing at the dried come that made the sheets stick to his stomach. He stumbled and groaned, his ass aching as he stood up. What was he, a virgin? He limped into the bathroom and saw Cas toweling off, stopping for a second to give him a chaste kiss before rushing into a two-minute shower, cleaning out the come from his ass and chest. He was still sensitive from their early-morning fuck, and tried not to grimace as his hand brushed his swollen hole. He was so gonna get shit for this.
Dean shut the shower off and dried himself off in record time, rinsing with mouthwash and completely forgoing the razor, hoping his stubble would cover up the brand new red-purple hickeys on his jaw and throat. It didn't.
He rushed back into their room and was promptly handed a pair of black slacks and one of his button-ups. He mumbled a thank you and was pulling the slacks up his legs when he suddenly realized that he wasn't wearing any underwear. He quickly contemplated going commando, but the secretaries would have an aneurism and his ass was having none of it. So he sat back on the bed with a wince, yanking his pants off, cursing when one of his feet got stuck. He looked up to see Cas staring at him bemusedly, Dean's briefs still in hand.
Dean groaned and glanced at the clock, now 7:44. He felt his pants being tugged off of his foot and looked down to see Cas helping him, a small, amused smile still on his face. He handed Dean his underwear and left, probably to get his husband a donut or whatever for breakfast so he wouldn't be puking everywhere by midday. Dean dressed in a hurry, resolving to put on his coat and tie in the car. He grabbed the expresso and chugged it, stepping into his shoes with one of the socks not on all the way because he just didn't have time for that and why wasn't the coffee working yet, damnit.
He bumped into Cas in the kitchen, a travel mug of coffee in one hand and one of those muffin-and-egg-and-bacon things they had made the other day, warmed up in the microwave. He smiled and gave Cas a kiss goodbye, finishing the expresso in his hand and grabbing the one in Cas', shoving his keys into his pocket, and making it downstairs by 7:53.
TUESDAY, APRIL 29TH. 8:11 AM
"You're late, Winchester!" Ash shouted, and suddenly everyone's attention was on him. Dean Winchester, assassin extraordinaire, was late. Yeah.
"Yeah, yeah. Can we all just get back to work?" He replied, keeping his chin down, noticing that his shirt wasn't tucked in and a button was open. So much for playing it cool. He flopped down in his chair and then immediately regretted it, wincing and adjusting himself. He took off his coat and loosened his tie, which, in between the rush from the elevator and starting up his car, had become really much too tight.
He took another drink from his mug and scrubbed his hands over his face, taking a deep breath. Traffic had been weirdly congested, and the adrenaline from earlier had worn off around ten minutes ago.
Ash whistled. "Rough night?"
"You could say that." Dean replied, leaning back before remembering the marks Cas had left on him and pitched forward, pretending to sift through the papers he had read yesterday.
"What was that?" Charlie asked, and Dean tensed.
"What was what?" Ash leaned forward, trying to get a better look at Dean's face.
"It's nothing." Dean tried, but Charlie stood up and leaned over her monitors.
"Is that a hickey?"
Dean looked helplessly between them, trying for a smile. "What? No!"
"Then what's that?" Charlie asked, bending forward even more, poking Dean right where the bruise was. It pulsed underneath her finger, making him hiss.
"I – Okay, fine. Yes."
Ash looked personally offended. "You banged some chick last night and didn't invite me?"
Dean and Charlie frowned at him, and Ash seemed to understand the implications of his words. "I mean –– I was watching reruns of King of the Hill while you were fucking–"
"Alright, spill the deets. What did she look like?" Charlie interrupted, getting up and sitting down at the chair at the end of their table, where she wasn't blocked by five monitors.
"Uh– brunette, bright blue eyes – great ass," Dean said, stopping himself before he blurted out "cock sent from heaven".
"You have a thing for brunettes with blue eyes, don't you?" Charlie replied, staring at her nails. She shrugged. "I can see where you're coming from though. I still have fantasies about Hermione and Uhura eating me out." She smiled, and Dean could hear Ash choking on his coffee.
She leaned forward conspiratorially while Dean slapped Ash on the back. "So what was it like?"
"It was, uh – rough. And bendy."
"Come on, we're friends. I deserve something better than 'rough and bendy'." She waggled her eyebrows, obviously wanting the dirty details. But Dean shook his head, and she sighed, leaning back. "Fine, I get it. A gentlemen doesn't kiss and tell. Did you get a name?"
He opened his mouth but a name wouldn't come, and he had already used Cassie and Kassidy and Clara and Carrie and Caroline and Cassandra and Carla and Kathy and Kora and his imagination was still asleep. He was saved by Jo, who approached their table almost silently, eyebrows raised at Dean's appearance.
"Meeting in ten. There's a new mark in town." She glanced over at Charlie, who was suddenly extremely interested in her shoes. "I like the shirt, Char."
Charlie blushed and smiled, toying with the edges of her shirt, which was a light grey with a pocket and a cat in the middle. Jo smiled back, sauntering away. Ash snorted a laugh and shook his head.
The first few minutes of the meeting was boring, with the last of VM's assassins filing in five minutes late. The techies, of course, were all on time, and as Dean counted as both, he got to sit in the very front of the room. He got quite a bit of attention with his appearance, with one or two "good on you!"'s and a couple slaps on the back. Bobby stared at him for a good five seconds before snorting and mumbling something about 'young couples'.
The whole room was packed ten minutes after they were supposed to start, but Bobby only sighed before turning on the monitor that was mounted to the wall.
"Alright. We got a new hit." He started, and murmurs followed the announcement. "Hush, this is important. There was a hunter APB sent out late last night. You all know about Nick?"
There were a few "No, sirs" from the back, and Bobby sighed again, unbuttoning his suit coat. His tie was purple today; they were being assigned a new case. Bobby liked to have his ties match the color levels for VM – light blue or white for all good, purple for new hit, blue for during an investigation, green for planning, orange for alert, yellow for high alert, red for success, black for failure. His tie-code made things easier; all you had to do was ask the secretaries what Bobby was wearing.
"Fine, for those of you who don't know, Nick is an extremely skilled – and extremely unstable assassin. He's not attached to any company or organization. He runs as an independent hit man. He's had run-ins with the law and other organizations, includin' ourselves, but we were lucky. He managed to kill seventeen civilians last year and then around June just up and disappeared. He's best known for the bomb that went off last April, where he killed five civilians, along with his target."
Jo coughed out something that sounded a bit like 'satan' and Bobby rolled his eyes. "He also goes by the name Lucifer, but if you feel more comfortable callin' him Nick, then by all means."
"Anyways." He clicked something with the button in his hand and the screen switched to a shot of the guy's face with his height, weight, age, etc. He had a somewhat manic look in his eye and a light smirk, his short sandy hair blowing back in the wind. He had a light covering of stubble and a scar near his temple. Bobby pointed to his hairline.
"This was taken last May, and I'm presumin' that he's probably grown out his hair a little, mostly to cover this scar. If you ask me, he's got kinda a unique face, so he shouldn't be that easy to mix up with someone else. We're sending you pictures of him in your email and to your homes, so you best memorize that face, you got me? I don't want a repeat of last time."
"Yes sir."
He shook his head. "Alright." He switched to a new slide. "Last seen April 11th, in the uptown area, by 17 year old Ruby Cortez. She said that he'd been hangin' around her friend Meg Masters, also 17, for around a month. Meg went missing around two weeks ago. Neither her or Nick have been seen since. Both Ruby Cortez and Meg Masters are emancipated teenagers, and Ruby lives uptown in a house she inherited from her grandparents. Meg was reported to police, but they haven't been able to do much except send out an amber alert.
"Now, because of Lucifer's state of mind, which is probably around psychotic at best, and the fact that there is now two underage civilians involved, this case is being moved up to highest priority. I fully expect those of you in technologies to work hard on this case. We want that girl recovered alive."
He looked up, seeing a hand in the air. "Madison?"
"Is there a reward for … Nick's capture?"
"As a matter of fact, there is. The AMT organization on the west coast has a reward of twenty thousand grand for his recovery, dead or alive." There were a few whistles, and he nodded, eyebrows raised. "I know. Uh, Madison?"
"Is there a specific team assigned to this case?"
Bobby glanced at Dean, clearly thinking hard.
"Actually, I think we're gonna have all teams working on this one. All of you need at least three tech people, and before you go out after him, or scope, or think you've got him in position, you need to come to me, Garth, or Dean first for approval."
Someone scoffed.
"Uh-uh, I'm not havin' none of that. Tell you what, the team to bring him or his body back successfully gets a bonus." There were more murmurs and Bobby nodded, pleased with his incentive.
"Any more questions?" He looked around the room and then glanced at the clock. "Great. Meeting over."
TUESDAY, APRIL 29TH. 1:43 PM.
Frm: Dean
[1:42PM]
Ass still super sore. feel like a virgin again, damn you. people keep giving me funny looks. x
Frm: Cas3
[1:43PM]
Apologies. Isn't there a break-room with a nice couch or something? I remember you talking about it over dinner once.
Frm: Dean
[1:43PM]
New project, big one. it's all hands on deck, but this chair is getting 2 me. keep imagining u eating me out and stuffing me with your cock again. hard ons are hard to hide, cas. x
Frm: Cas3
[1:44PM]
Maybe you should take care of that.
Frm: Dean
[1:44PM]
Maybe i will. maybe ill scream your name 4 everyone in the building to hear. xxx
Frm: Cas3
[1:44PM]
I'm at work too. I have to talk to people, without an erection. Besides, your brother is coming over tonight, remember?
Frm: Dean
[1:45PM]
Wow. i don't think ive ever met someone who can kill a mood quite like you can. over text. i don't wana think about my brother with a hard on, cas. x
Frm: Cas3
[1:45PM]
Good, because you're only supposed to be thinking about me when you have a hard on.
Frm: Dean
[1:45PM]
You filthy bastard. xX
Frm: Cas3
[1:47PM]
Get back to work, Dean.
Cas stuffed his phone back into his pocket and huffed, throwing the rag in his hand down and sliding the empty magazine back in place. Today he was teaching Alfie how to properly clean weapons. The kid learned fast, and while his presence was one of the least annoying in the building, they had been working for over two hours and both of them were getting bored. Michael was even more of a asshole than usual, and because of the rules Cas had broken completing the last mission, he had been suspended for three days.
He stretched and picked up his weapon, an assault rifle, and carefully put it back into the cabinet. Alfie copied him and put away the ammo, grabbing the rags and towel they were sitting on and throwing them in the laundry basket.
"Alright Samandriel, I think that's enough for today." Cas said, sighing. Alfie nodded. "Just, uh, practice your climbing and first aide. Your tourniquet yesterday was kind of loose."
Samandriel nodded. "Yes sir. It's my turn on bathroom duty, so, I'll see you around, Castiel."
"Sure."
The boy gave Cas a parting nod and left. Cas shook his head. He was tired; but he didn't want to sleep. He wanted an assignment. His muscles were tight, the lack of adrenaline these past few days wearing him out in a way that resting wouldn't help. Crowley would have something.
Cas walked down the narrow hallway, a low murmur of voices getting louder and more distinguishable the closer he got. Should he knock? The last thing he wanted was to piss Crowley off.
He stopped at the door, hearing a woman's voice filter through the wood. A woman?
Cas almost turned back, but he saw Michael approaching and quickly turned. To hell with it. He knocked.
"What is it?!" Crowley shouted.
"It's Castiel."
"And Michael!"
Cas sighed.
"Fine, fine. Come in."
Castiel pushed open the door and walked in, noticing that the woman in the room was, in fact, not on Crowley's lap. Michael followed behind him.
"And who's this brown eyed beauty?" He asked, looking the girl up and down before standing beside her. In Castiel's opinion, she was really quite plain, long brown hair and bangs, brown eyes, pointed nose. She was wearing a simple black tee and jeans, and looked slightly nervous.
"She, is our anonymous source. I'd appreciate it if you two hashed out wether or not you're going to fuck outside of my office, please." Crowley replied, drumming his fingers on the table.
"Oh, so what're we getting this time?" Michael teased, waggling his eyebrows. Cas rolled his eyes.
"Miss, if you'd please." Crowley gestured to her.
She looked at the both of them before uncrossing her arms. "So … the AMT organization on the west coast sent out a blast, that, the independent assassin Nick had gone rouge last year and then disappeared, but then he turned up again in uptown a couple weeks ago, but then he disappeared again, but with a teenager this time. And they want everyone working on it, because he's psychopathic at best and likely to kill people he hasn't been hired to take out."
"You forgot to mention the best part, sweetheart."
"… They're offering twenty thousand dollars for him, dead or alive."
Cas' eyes widened and Michael let out a low whistle.
"I'm assuming we're taking this one?" He asked.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Crowley growled. "Of course we're taking this. Twenty grand boys, imagine what I could do with an extra twenty grand."
"Probably kill more people." Cas answered.
Crowley shrugged. "That's true."
"I'm sorry, Crowley, but I came in here for an assignment." Cas stated, tired of watching Michael flirt with the 'anonymous source'.
"Ah, but I have one for you! Actually, it's for the two of you and Zachariah. Hold on a second." Crowley bent over and picked up the phone connected to the intercom, barked out "Zachariah", and a minute later, said man walked through the door. He looked vaguely impressed to see so many people there.
"Am I in trouble for something? Tell me I'm not in trouble for somethi–"
"Shut up." Crowley snapped. "You three have been assigned to a case."
Michael looked up from the girl's ass.
"The girl Lucifer took off with, she had a friend she was living with. Ruby Cortez." He glanced at the girl. "She lives in a house in uptown, I want you to get as much information from her as possible. If she dies, make it look like a home invasion or something of the like. I don't care. Take whatever you want. She's an emancipated teenager, I doubt anyone will miss her." He handed the folder to Zachariah, and Castiel glared at the carpet.
"Just the three of you, got that?" He glanced at Cas. "Right. Keep it silent. I want you to go after dark."
They nodded. "Good. Now go."
Everyone filed out, Cas and Zachariah back to the stock room, Michael following the girl. He stepped in front of her in the hall, blocking her path.
"You smell really nice, did anyone tell you that?" He smiled gently.
"Not today, no." She gave him a polite smile in return.
"Hmm. Well you do." He looked her up and down again. "Can I get a name to go with the face, miss?"
"Just – Just call me Missy." She answered, eyes raking him up and down.
"Missy. Huh. Well," He leaned forward so that his mouth was right at her ear. "I hope to see you around."
She shivered, and he leaned back and smirked, turning and walking into the room labeled 'Equipment', where Cas and Zach already had duffel bags open. He grinned.
"You get her number?" Zachariah asked, dropping a handful of zip-ties into his bag.
"No, but I got a name. Missy."
"Missy. Huh. What about you, Castiel? You plan on jumping her pants too?"
Castiel looked up, hoping he could have been excluded from this conversation. "No." He coiled up a length of rope and tied it, dropping it on the floor next to his bag.
"No?" Michael laughed, staring at him. "Why not?"
"I'm not interested."
"Not interested? What about all those times you came into work covered in hickeys? That doesn't scream 'not interested', Castiel."
Cas sighed.
"I'm not interested in her."
Michael stared at him incredulously. "Okay."
TUESDAY, APRIL 29TH. 6:34 PM
"Sam?"
"Hey, Dean, uh, your apartment's locked."
Dean frowned, getting up from his seat and making his way to the bathroom. "What? Cas' supposed to be there."
"I know, but, the apartment's locked and I knocked and no one's answering."
"You didn't try picking it? I know you know how, I taught you myself."
"Dean." He could practically hear Sam's bitchface through the phone.
Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, I'll call him. Just, wait in the Lobby, something might've come up."
"Sure."
He hung up, looking around. Ash was staring at him with an eyebrow raised. Dean held up a hand, signaling that he'd be right back, and walked down to Bobby's office.
He knocked twice and entered.
Bobby was sitting at his desk, papers spread all around him, an eyebrow raised. Dean nearly growled.
"Would you all stop with the judgmental looks? I had a rough morning, so what?"
Bobby just shook his head. "Whaddaya need?"
"I need to call Cas."
Bobby snorted. "Keep it PG."
Dean rolled his eyes and eased down on one of Bobby's leather chairs, sighing in comfort. "That was one time."
"It was a time I'd like to forget."
Dean huffed and pulled out his phone. Cas picked up on the second ring.
"Dean?"
"Hey, Cas, where are you? Sam's at the apartment and he says you're not."
"Oh, shit– yeah. I was roped into overtime, there's some idiotic event that I have to help set up and clean up at the community center. I'm sorry Dean, I meant to call you and let you know."
"Oh. It's fine, I'll just get off early." He looked up at Bobby, who was giving him a look that clearly said 'you're doing what?'.
"Okay. Great. Apologies again."
"No worries. Love you. Bye."
"Goodbye."
Dean hung up and tried to imitate Sam's puppy face, but by the way Bobby was glaring, it wasn't working.
"Just what, exactly, is going on?"
Dean sighed. "Okay, see, Sam is coming over for dinner tonight, and Cas was supposed to be at the apartment because he gets off work before me, but Cas was roped into overtime, so now Sam's at the apartment with Jess, alone, and probably hungry, … and I promised that someone was going to be there ..."
Bobby stared at the paper in his hands, looking resigned. "Fine, you can get off early. But this is an exception. And I do expect you to invite me and Ellen next time."
Dean smiled. "Sure thing, Bobby."
He called Sam and told him he was coming and then rushed out to his table, telling Charlie and Ash and Andy that Sammy needed him for something and who was to deny that kid anything, right?
THURSDAY, APRIL 29TH. 6:45 PM
Cas frowned at the side of the van. They were sitting in the back, waiting until the sun had set enough for them to infiltrate the house. Cas had a pistol in hand and his knife tucked into his jeans, but the whole thing felt wrong. There was no proof that the girl Ruby had ever really done something bad, and on top of that, he had completely forgotten about the dinner once their assignment had been handed over. He was supposed to be joking around with Sam right now, and gushing over how gorgeous Jess looked, but instead he was in a van, about to torture a possibly innocent girl for basic information. It just didn't feel right.
Michael peeked over the front seats, staring at the sunset. "I think we're good. The sky's going purple."
"Fantasitc." Zachariah clapped his hands. "Gentlemen, we ready?"
Michael was the only one who answered, but they were used to Cas' quietness; wrapping scarves around their faces before pulling up the hoods of their jackets, a precaution against the frequent security cameras in the area. The three men piled out of the van, bags slung over shoulders, and walked casually up the lawn of Ruby's house. Cas went around back, only seeing one light on upstairs. He dismantled the security system with ease and picked the lock, stealthily moving from the back room to the kitchen, where a set of stairs led to the second floor. He saw Michael and Zachariah out of the corner of his eyes, and motioned to stay put and keep quiet. He knocked three times on the wooden banister, waiting a couple of minutes before knocking again. He heard Michael sigh and move over to the door, rapping hard and loud. They heard a shift upstairs and moved quickly, hiding themselves from view in the dark room.
Cas heard light footsteps coming down the stairs and jumped as soon as the girl stepped near the light switch, wrapping an arm around her neck and smothering her sudden screams with a gloved hand. He saw Zachariah grab the ropes as Michael dragged a chair into the center of the room, the girl kicking and struggling, breath coming in short pants as Castiel tightened the arm around her neck. He stumbled over, surprised at the strength in her as she continued to fight him as he tried to force her into the chair, Michael grabbing ahold of her legs. Her eyes widened and she began thrashing wildly, muffled shouts escaping Castiel's hand.
Michael looked fed up and punched her in the stomach, giving them a moment of opportunity as she curled up. Castiel kept his arm and hand in place as Michael and Zachariah tied her arms and legs down to the chair, before handing Castiel a gag, which he promptly placed in her mouth. He stepped back and removed his hood and scarf, breathing hard. He dully noted that Ruby was in a basic tank top and boy shorts. She was actually kind of beautiful.
Michael and Zachariah pulled off their disguises and looked around, turning back to her. "There anyone else in this house?" He asked, sending Zachariah off to sweep for cameras or another security system. She paused and nodded, and Michael sneered. "Don't lie to me, sweet cheeks. I'm gonna ask again. Is there anyone else in this house?"
She shook her head slowly, still slumped forward.
"That's a good girl."
She attempted to speak, but it was muffled by the gag. Michael motioned for Cas to take it off, but as soon as the rag left her mouth she was ready to scream, stopped only by Castiel's hand, forcing her head back.
Michael punched her in the face, and Castiel suppressed a wince. "No screaming." He looked at Castiel, who slowly removed his hand again. There was a cut on her cheek and Michael frowned at it as if it had personally insulted him. She opened her mouth to scream again, but all that came out was something garbled as he swiftly punched her in the kidney. She was pulling in ragged breaths, and he grabbed her jaw, nearly nose to nose with her.
"I said, no screaming." He pulled out a dagger and plunged it through the webbing of her finger, staring her straight in the eyes as she let out a strangled moan. "Or what you'll get will be worse. Got that? Much." He breathed the words onto her face and she flinched, "Worse." He pushed her head back and stepped towards a returning Zachariah, and Castiel watched the blood start to pour from her hand.
"Anything?"
Zachariah shook his head.
"Okay," Ruby panted, voice sounding like she was surprising panic, "Are any of you going to tell me what's going on?"
Zach turned to her, smiling. "So she speaks!"
"We need information on Meg Masters and Nick Beels." Castiel answered.
"And so you decided to break into my home, fucking snatch me up, and tie me to a chair?"
Michael looked around the room, pretended he was seeing it for the first time. "I think so, yeah."
"You're– You're psychopaths! I thought you were gonna …" She swallowed hard.
"Look, you just give us what we want, we'll let you go. Everyone wins."
She spat in his face and he stabbed her in the thigh and she pitched forward, hands clenching and struggling against the bonds, screaming through clenched teeth. Michael stumbled back and wiped at his face, staring at her with fury that Castiel had only really seen directed towards himself. Zachariah stepped forward and punched her once, twice, three times, until her hair covered her face and blood was dripping from the corner of her mouth.
"Now, you gonna be a good little bitch and tell us where your friend Meg is?"
"I don't know."
Michael made a sound of disappointment and yanked his blade out of her leg. She shot up rigidly and blinked away tears, panting raggedly.
"I fucking told you, I don't know! I reported her to the police because she's missing, asshole!"
"I don't know, you haven't proved very trustworthy." He dragged the knife across the skin of her chest, drawing a red line of blood, and she hissed.
"I'm the one fucking tied to a goddamned chair. Being tortured by crazy people."
"She's telling the truth, Michael." Cas said, stopping him before he killed her without the info they had come for.
"Yeah, Michael, how about we listen to Mister Strong-and-Silent over there. I'm telling the fucking truth."
"Alright, fine. Fine." He dropped his blade on the floor and walked away, and Castiel heard the blare of a TV start up, some horror movie playing with cheap screams and the sounds of chainsaws filling the heavy silence. Castiel took advantage of Michael's absence and stepped forward, staring her straight in the face. She was already bleeding in several spots, drips of it hitting the floor silently.
"How do you know Nick? How did you meet him?"
"Meg met him. She introduced me to him. He seemed … slightly creepy at first, but he kept to himself mostly, so I didn't think much of him. And then he drove off with her in that van of his and I haven't seen or heard from her or him since."
Michael entered the room, but stood to the side, watching Castiel.
"You say you haven't heard from him. Do you have his cell phone number?"
"Yeah, but it's out of service. I've already tried calling it."
"Give me the number."
She gave him a look. "… But it's out of service."
"I still want the number."
"Okay, let me go get my phone, and I'll give it to you."
Castiel shook his head, and motioned for Zachariah to go upstairs and grab it. He came back minutes later with the red device in hand, and handed it off to Michael, who pulled out paper and a pen.
"There's a passcode on it." He said, motioning to the lock screen. Castiel looked at Ruby.
"It's … 2020." She answered. Michael shook his head, and Castiel stabbed her in the hand. She screamed and Cas pulled the blade out, dully noting that it had cut part of the rope.
"2408!" She yelled.
"Thank you." Michael growled.
"What about Meg's number?" Castiel inquired.
"I think it's shut off." She panted. "She hasn't picked up."
"Alright. Can you describe Nick's van for us?"
She looked up at him. "Pussy wagon." She hissed. Castiel stabbed her in the other hand. She cried out.
"Fine! Fine, please. It was a volkswagen van thing, looked old. Yellow and white. The back opened up and we smoked inside."
"What did he look like? Anything distinguishable or unique?"
She stared at them incredulously. "You've decided to hunt down some fucking dude and you don't even know what he looks like?"
"Oh, we know what he looks like." Zachariah answered. "We just wanna hear it from your pretty little mouth."
"Zachariah." Castiel warned.
"He was blonde, wore a leather jacket all the time."
"Care to elaborate?" He growled.
"I'm not fucking J.K. Rowling, alright, what more do you want from me?"
Michael stepped forward and grabbed a bottle from his bag, uncapping it and pouring salt water over the wound on her thigh. She screamed and struggled with her bonds, the skin on her wrists bloody and torn.
"What?!" She gasped. "What?!"
"Where are they now? Did they leave any hints?"
"I fucking told you, I don't know!"
Michael punched her again, and she went limp. He scoffed. "Weak."
Castiel frowned at her. She knew nothing. She didn't deserve this.
"Michael, Zachariah." He said, stepping towards them. "We've gotten all we can from her. Take what you want, and let's go."
"She got our names and faces, Castiel." Zachariah protested.
"Fine, we can kill her when she wakes up. We'll see if she knows anything else. Now go."
They both rolled their eyes but left, Michael going upstairs and Zachariah heading for the living room. Cas made his way into the kitchen, opening drawers and rifling through them. A few things caught his eye, but none of it seemed good enough to take home. He didn't really want to take anything. This wasn't what he had thought he'd end up doing, torturing girls for information and then stealing their stuff. It was wrong.
He heard movement behind him and spun, quickly realizing it was Ruby. Ruby?
She had a knife in her hand and slashed at him, slicing his arm. Castiel attacked back, punching her in the face before stabbing her in the stomach. She stumbled, unfocused, and he stuck his blade in her throat. She crumpled.
Michael stomped down the stairs, spinning and seeing Ruby's body on the floor. He looked up at Castiel, fuming.
"What did you do this time, Castiel?"
"What did I do? She attacked me. I attacked back."
"She's not in the fucking chair, obviously you did something."
"I didn't tie her down, Michael." Castiel poised himself, ready to fight both Michael and Zachariah if necessary. It had happened before.
He saw Zachariah round the corner, various objects in his arms. Castiel kept his eyes on Michael and stepped towards the chair, legitimately curious as to how she had gotten out as well.
The ropes on one arm were frayed, and had obviously broken. All the others were cut clean. Cas' eye went to the knife still in Ruby's hand. It was Michael's.
"Where's your knife?" Cas asked, staring straight at Michael. He flexed his hands and glanced at the floor in front of the chair, then to the body. His mouth pressed into a thin line.
Zachariah was packing up the things he had nabbed and Michael was still staring at Ruby's body, and Cas saw his exit. He walked into the living room and saw the door to the garage, kicked it open and grabbed the set of keys labeled 'Meg', starting up her car and drove away.
THURSDAY, APRIL 29TH. 7:47 PM
Dean pulled out his phone again, checking the time. It had been over an hour. The food was mostly done, and if Cas took any longer it would be cold by the time he ate it, something Dean hated.
"He's fine, Dean." Sam said, sitting at the island. "It's just a bit of overtime."
"It happens to Sam too, y'know." Jess chimed in. "I don't worry, he always comes home."
Sam and Dean spared a look. She didn't know about them, how they had lived before Sam had met her.
They heard shuffling and the jingling of keys from behind the door, and Dean felt the tension start to bleed out of him. Then Cas stumbled through clutching at his arm, and he froze on the spot. He was breathing heavily, and Dean could see blood seeping through his fingers. He watched him throw his keys on the dresser near the door and move for the island, and suddenly Sam was right there in front of him, Jess right beside Sam.
"Cas! Are you okay? What happened?" Jess stepped in front of Sam, helping Cas down onto a stool.
"When we were cleaning up, someone hit me with a crate or something. I didn't realize how bad it was until I was in the car." He glanced at Dean. "I'm sorry."
"No, don't apologize, are you alright?" Dean dropped the spoon he was holding and made no move to pick it up.
"I think so."
"Here, let me help you." Jess stepped forward, putting her hand on Cas' shoulder. He winced in pain.
"I don't want to mess up your dress, Jessica. I can do it myself."
Jess shook her head. "I'm the only nurse in this house, alright? I'm fairly sure you'd be better off being treated by someone with actual medical experience."
Cas hesitated, then nodded.
"Dean?" She turned towards him. "Where's the first aid kit?"
"In the bathroom, bottom cabinets." He replied.
"Great. C'mon Cas, we'll clean you up while the boys set the table." She shot a look at Sam and Dean, and walked away with Castiel.
Sam caught Dean's eye.
"You heard him Dean, it was just an accident at work." Sam said, leaning against the counter, where Dean was finishing up with the food.
"Yeah, I know. It just, brings up some bad memories, alright?"
"I know." Sam bent over and picked up the spoon Dean had dropped, handing it to him.
"I get it Dean, really, I do. But … you have to let it go, otherwise it's gonna eat you alive. Jess is a nurse, and sometimes she gets called in during emergencies, and I used to worry myself sick. Literally. But I let it go, and I think you should too."
"Sam." Dean said, voice low. "Haven't you ever thought that, maybe, Dad left his hooks in me just a little deeper than you? That maybe taking the missions that put a gun in your hand while we were working for Bobby, wasn't the best idea?" He pulled down the plates.
"Yeah," He answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I guess I just thought that after the crash, you'd be able to be free. And I was wrong. And then when you had your accident and promised to retire from the business," Dean flinched, but Sam didn't notice. "and then you met Cas, and got married. Dean, I don't think I've ever seen you happier than you were that day."
Dean cleared his throat. "Yeah, okay. Help me with the forks."
Jess sat Cas down and had him take off his shirt and jacket, rummaging through the cabinets, pulling out the first aide kit and placing it on the counter. Her eyebrows raised when she saw the extensiveness of what was supposed to be a simple kit, but seemed to be happier with the things she had. She grabbed a few items and stepped back to him, crouching for a better angle.
"This might hurt." She warned, and Cas jerked with the sting of alcohol. They sat in silence for a few minutes, but then there was a slight tug on his arm, and he looked over to see her frowning at his wound.
"Cas," She started, "Are you sure it was a crate? Because this looks like a knife wound."
"I –"
Jess looked him up and down, paying attention to the seemingly random scars that littered his arms and torso.
"Castiel, is there something going on that Dean doesn't know about? Because these don't seem like the kind of scars someone gets from working at an animal shelter."
"If I was in danger, I'd tell him."
"Okay, but is it putting him in danger?"
Cas frowned and opened his mouth, but she cut him off.
"I don't mean just physically. If Dean finds out that– whatever you're doing that's leaving marks like this on you, is he going to be okay? Or is it going to ruin him?"
"He won't find out."
She stared at him for a few seconds. "Okay."
Sam took a deep breath, putting his fork down. "Okay, so me and Jess have some good news."
They had all mostly finished their dinners, Castiel being the one with the most on his plate. The stitches in his arm stung and made it hard to use his utensils properly.
Jessica had a blinding smile on her face. "I'm– I'm pregnant."
Dean looked like he'd been slapped. "Pregnant?"
"Yes, Dean." Sam smiled. "We're having a baby."
He blinked, and the news seemed to sink in. "A baby. I'm gonna be an uncle?"
They both nodded, and Dean's face broke into a grin. Cas couldn't help but smile at him.
"Congratulations, Jessica." He nodded towards her, the happy atmosphere taking his mind off everything else. "Do you know if its going to be a boy or a girl?"
She shook her head. "We're going to get an ultrasound next week."
"Next week? How far along are you?" Dean asked, looking like he was about to bounce out of his seat.
"Three months." Sam answered.
"Three months?" Dean looked at Jess, who was practically glowing. "You look pretty good for three months Jess, I gotta say."
She laughed."Thank you, Dean."
Dean stood up and grabbed everyone's plates, taking them into the kitchen. "Drinks to celebrate?" He called, bringing out beers and iced tea.
Dean handed out the drinks. "Oh, and Sam. Bobby says the next time we have dinner to invite him and Ellen. Jo threatened to castrate me if I didn't invite her either."
Sam chuckled. "Here? You've barely got enough space for the four of us."
Dean grinned and popped the top off his beer. "You haven't seen our bed."
"Yeah, let's keep it that way." Sam responded, taking a sip.
"It's huge," Jess giggled.
Dean scoffed. "We change the sheets."
"Okay, y'know what–let's just stop right there." Sam pointed his beer at Dean. "You work with Jo, you can tell her the next time we have dinner. You can all come over to our apartment."
"Jo?" Jess looked at Sam. "Isn't she like your cousin or something?"
"Half sister. More or less."
"Oh." Jess still looked confused.
"Bobby and Ellen are our adoptive parents, Jo is their daughter." Dean explained.
"I didn't know Bobby and Ellen were your adoptive parents."
Sam shrugged. "They're our parents. Adoptive or not."
Sam and Jess stayed until well past nine, with hugs and kisses given out at the door.
"I love you." Dean murmured, after they had curled up together in bed. "Don't ever fucking forget that." He pressed a kiss into Cas' jaw. "I love you."
"I love you."