Dancing with the Devil - Chapter 2

Here's chapter 2!

I don't own Supernatural.

Chapter Two

The Princes, the Pauper, and the King

Dean did not return for a long time. At first, Castiel got a little worried. His mind began to go to dark places. Had something happened? Was he alright? But it didn't take too long for logic to set back in. Dean was a demon – the strongest in Hell – he didn't exactly need protection. He was fine. Absolutely fine. Besides, Dean was working. Who knew how long that would take. But . . . what do demons even do? Castiel wondered, and then thought better of the question. I don't want to know.

A few hours passed and Castile began to grow restless. He was growing tired of this room – growing tired of being alone. Time seemed to pass differently in this world. It felt like everything was slower here – longer. A part of him tried to remind himself that Dean had only been gone for a few hours, but another insisted that it had been years. But that wasn't possible. Was it? There didn't seem to be any difference between day and night. The room had now windows, nor any clocks. How long had it been? Days . . . ? Weeks . . . ? Months . . . ? Years . . . ? Castiel didn't know. He began to fear that he was going insane.

He paced ceaselessly back and forth across the room. He never grew tired. His legs never ached. His stomach never growled. His throat never grew dry and arid. He never felt the need to use the bathroom. In a way, it was as if he'd been made young again, and yet he felt too little. All of those pesky, human needs were gone. There were no mirrors in the room, but Castiel could tell by the shape his body was in, and by the youthful look of his pale skin, that he was young again. He assumed that he looked the same as he had when he made the deal with Dean. After all, that was when he sold his soul. It made sense that his body would be preserved in that state.

He wasn't as happy as he thought he would be to discover this. Looks and appearance had long ago become meaningless to him. All his mind could focus on was Dean. When would he come back? Would he ever return? Had Castiel upset him so terribly? Was this absence punishment?

Castiel stopped pacing suddenly. What's the use? he wondered. It did no good. It didn't make Dean return.

Castiel jumped as the room's door opened. He let out a sigh of relief. Finally, he thought. He put on a smile. He wanted Dean to know that he was happy to see him – that he was glad that Dean decided to come back. But as a large figure appeared in the doorway, Castiel's smile faded. This was not Dean.

A young man in his mid-twenties entered the room. Castiel had to look up at hum he was so tall. He looked like a human giant, only he was a demon. His hair, a dark brown color, just barely touched his shoulders. The man wore it pushed back from his face and seemed to part in the middle of his scalp. Castiel wouldn't be surprised if he found that he spent a lot of time on his hair alone. It looked too good to be that way naturally.

The man stared at Castiel, his face contorted with confusion. He narrowed his eyes and briefly glanced behind him. "Um . . ." he said, turning back to Castiel. "Hi . . . I'm looking for my older brother, Dean . . . Is he here?"

Castiel shook his head, but relaxed. This was the Sam that Dean had mentioned. IT was odd though; Dean had said that Sam was a demon too, but he didn't look or sound like one. He seemed so . . . human. "No, he's been gone a while," Castiel relayed. "Are you . . . Sam?"

The young man looked surprised at the question. "Yes . . . Who are you, by the way?"

Castiel looked at the ground submissively. Even though Sam looked more human than Dean did didn't mean that he was any kinder. He was still a demon, and he had the power to kill. "My name is Castiel," he answered. "I sold my soul to your brother."

Sam gave the human an odd look as if he were trying to wrap his head around this new information. He looked Castiel up in down, and the faintest of smiles ghosted across his face. His entire being hardened then – straightened up. "What the hell was Dean thinking?" he muttered to himself. "When Crowley—" He abruptly broke off and examined Castiel again. "Do you know where my brother went?"

Castiel shook his head. "He just said that he had work to do."

"And I did," a new, deep voice cut in. Castiel felt a shiver go up his spine.

Dean was home.

Both Sam and Castiel turned to see Dean's figure darkening the doorway. "Hiya, Sammy," he greeted. His lips twitched in what Castiel might've considered a smile if it weren't for the forbidding tone of voice.

"Dean," Sam murmured in response. The older brother waltzed into the room with an air of confidence around him. He strode toward Sam, slowly . . . almost as if he was warning his brother to not start something. The door clicked shut as Dean came to a halt about three feet away from Sam. "I've been looking for you – Crowley has too."

Dean looked slightly displeased by this information. His lips curled. "Tell Lucky the Leprechaun that I'm not interested in anything he's selling."

Sam let out an exasperated sigh. Castiel could almost hear a century's worth of exhaustion and annoyance in it. "Dean . . . he's pissed – beyond pissed. He's livid. And it's not just him either. Cain and Abbadon are looking for you too . . . Both for different reasons, granted, but . . . Look, you've broken a code that we all abide by! You can't just . . . keep a soul for yourself! The Knights aren't even supposed to conduct crossroads deals.

Dean looked tired during Sam's speech. On numerous occasions, he'd roll his eyes or look at Castiel as if to say: "Can you believe this guy?"

"Sammy," Dean said when Sam had finally finished his spiel. "Crowley might be the King of Hell, but I can still kick his ass any day of the week. And Abbadon – pfft! If she – or even Azazel and his horde of spawn – become a problem, I'll just borrow the Blade from Cain. Problem solved."

"He's looking for you too," Sam pointed out. "And last I heard, he wasn't exactly pleased with you."

"Yeah, but when is Cain really pleased with anyone?" Dean asked. "And if he wants to join this fight – one that doesn't even concern him – then fuck him too!"

"Dean!" Sam hissed. "I am your brother – I'm trying to help you out here! I want to avoid this altercation. It isn't even a fight yet, and you act like you're prepping for battle."

"Maybe I don't want help from you, Sam," Dean muttered. "You ain't even a real demon."

Sam's eyes narrowed and his jaw locked in place. Castiel began to fear that the two brothers themselves would start a fight right then and there. Sam's muscles were tight and flexed under his clothing. "Real enough to take you on."

Dean smirked and let out a tiny laugh. "You think you are, but you're really not. Not when I have the Mark of Cain."

Castiel had been standing there during this entire conversation, watching this all unfold with bated breath. Cain? The Cain? From the Bible? Abbadon? Azazel? Who are these people? They aren't even people! They're demons, Castiel thought with a shudder. Very powerful demons by the sound of it. And what does Dean mean by the Mark of Cain? Is that why he's so . . . powerful?

Sam gave his brother a pleading look. "Dean, please. Don't be stupid. Just . . . Just go to Crowley and apologize. Give this human soul to the pit, and let's be done with this."

Dean looked positively insulted. "Apologize?!" he nearly screeched. "To Crowley?! Are you insane?! I'd rather die that apologize to that dick!"

"Dean," Castiel spoke up then. The two demons looked at him in surprise, as if they'd forgotten he was there. They probably had. He'd been paying close attention, and from what he'd gathered from the conversation was that Dean had taken Castiel's soul "illegally" and was now being chased for it. Whoever Crowley was, he seemed to be in charge, and he seemed particularly furious at Dean's actions. Castiel didn't want Dean to get in trouble, or get hurt, and especially not die.

The demon looked at Castiel with an expression of exasperation. "Not now, Cas."

"Dean," the soul persisted, watching the blond-haired demon with soft cerulean eyes "You . . . you can send me to the pit if . . . if it would be easier – better for you."
A strange look appeared in Dean's eyes. He looked at Castiel, confused for a moment. His mind couldn't seem to process why Castiel would even offer this. The human gulped, suddenly feeling as if he should have kept his mouth shut. But then, Castiel saw something flash in those evergreen eyes . . . something that looked almost human. It was a mixture of awe, adoration, and a newfound determination.

"That's alright, Cas," Dean said softly. His voice nearly made Castiel tremble. And then there was that name – a nickname. No one had ever given him a nickname before. Cas. "I ain't gonna let you go to the pit," Dean vowed "You . . . I ain't gonna break my promise – we made a deal, after all."

Castiel felt numb all over, but it was kind of numb. It was pleasant . . . euphoric, almost.

Sam watched the exchange with wary eyes. He then started at Dean as if his brother had grown a second head. "What the hell was—"

"DEAN WINCHESTER!"

The door of the room was violently thrown open. A man stood where the door had been just moments before. He was short – shorter than Castiel – and had dark, beady eyes. His hair was short and a dark brownish-black. He wore a beard along his jaw, chin, and upper lip that looked a little scruffy, but not entirely un-kept. He spoke with a thick, Scottish accent. "WHAT IN LUCIFER'S NAME HAVE YOU DONE?!"

Dean let out a tired sigh, but moved so he stood in front of Castiel. The human watched as the demon before him casually planted his feet on the ground and tensed his muscles. He was preparing for a fight. Instinctively, Castiel moved closer to Dean; the demon was his sole defender now. As Castiel moved closer, he accidentally brushed up against Dean's arm. It was surprisingly hot. Inhumanly hot. Not sweaty in the slightest, but hot. It was as if the blood in his viens was made of fire. Castiel mumbled an apology, and he swore he saw the demon smirk.

Crowley came forward, his dark eyes burning, and his face the personification of rage. "What were you even thinking?!" he roared. In appearance, he looked older than Dean – ten or twelve years, perhaps. He held himself highly – not necessarily with pompousness, but with authority. He made it known to everyone in the room that he was the boss here.

"Hello to you too, Crowley," Dean replied. He sounded bored.

"Don't 'hello' me!" Crowley crowed. "You stole a soul from me!"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Please! You're overreacting. I didn't steal anything from you. Sugar-lips here came on his own accord."

"His soul should be mine!" Crowley insisted. "He summoned a crossroads demon, not a Knight! You had no business being there!"

"And I simply took the place of the crossroads demon," Dean explained as if it were a simple addition problem. "I gave them some time off."

"After you smote him?" Crowley prompted.

Dean looked slightly annoyed now. He shifted his weight to one side and folded his arms across his chest.

A look of triumph appeared on Crowley's face. "You didn't know that I knew about that, did you, Squirrel?"

"If you knew about the crossroads demon back then, why didn't you confront me about it then when it was relevant?" Dean growled.

"Because I didn't think that you did it to get a soul for yourself!" Crowley snarled right back. "I know you have . . . violent tendencies. I know that Mark needs to be fed. Look, Dean . . . You and I have been through a lot together. I consider you a son – I took you and Moose in. I helped you both grow accustomed to demon life. I made you both princes. If you hand over the soul, I'll forgive you – it'll be water under the bridge."

Dean didn't even consider it. "Nah, I think I'll pass."

Crowley stared at him blankly. "What?"

"I said no," Dean repeated, this time with more force. "I made a deal with Cas here. I promised him that he wouldn't go to the pit. I made the deal – after all, you are the one that says to always honor the deals you make. We can't have the human race thinking that Hell is unreliable. No one will deal with us anymore."

The older demon now looked absolutely enraged. "This is not how we do things!" Castiel observed that Crowley's being was shaking with rage. His voice rose an octave with every word he spoke until he was almost screaming. Castiel thought that if this went on a second more, Crowley would spontaneously transform into a cartoon character complete with smoke coming out of his ears. "I am the king here."

"And as you just said, I'm the prince," Dean retorted. His voice sounded deeper than usual – more . . . demonic. "And like it or not, I'm stronger than you. So, here is how it's gonna be. You, Abbadon, and all the other demons that have caught wind of this are gonna back the fuck down. You will leave my human soul alone. And if anyone – I don't care if it's you, I don't care if it's Sammy, I don't care if it's Cain, or Lilith, or Azazel, or even fucking Lucifer himself – messes with Cas, or harms in anyway, I will personally drag your ass to the pit and torture you myself. Alastair can take a day off – hell, he can take the next few centuries off because I will enjoy punishing anyone who even dreams of hurting Cas. Got it?"

If Dean's warning had been directed at Castiel, the human didn't doubt that he would have been shaking in his boots. Crowley, on the other hand, wore a perfectly sculpted poker face. He assessed Dean for a few seconds, as if trying to decide whether or not he was serious. He didn't nod. He didn't make any sound. He simply turned and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Once Crowley was gone, both he and Sam let out breaths neither knew they'd been holding. Sam glowered at Dean. "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

Dean snorted. "I'm still here, ain't I?"

"Dean . . ." Sam trailed off, rubbing his temples laboriously. "Dean you . . . You just mouthed off to the King of Hell."

"And he walked away," Dean pointed out. "He's scared of me Sammy – scared of us. He always had been. That's why he always wanted to be buddy-buddy with us because he wanted us on his side so we wouldn't try to kill him."

Sam sighed. "I don't think it's that simple Dean. Crowley has the most powerful demons in Hell on his side, and you just went over to the dark side in his eyes. He'll send other demons after you – Abbadon and Lilith most likely . . . Azazel too. Maybe even Astaroth."

"Astaroth? That bitch?" Dean laughed. "If she is one of the best Crowley's got—"

"Cain," Sam said suddenly. "Crowley has Cain – and you know damn well that Cain can kill you. Easily. Hell, he might be the only demon that can, but . . . Is it worth the risk?"

"Cain won't kill me," Dean stated simply with confidence. "He won't."

"Dean—"

"He won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know Cain – I know him more than you do . . . more than Crowley does. I bare his Mark. He and I are one in the same. You don't have to worry about him."

Sam didn't ask any more questions. He just looked from Dean to Castiel before exiting the room, leaving the Knight and the human alone.

When Sam had gone, Dean turned to Castiel. It was then that Castiel realized how close he had been to Dean during all of this. The demon was less than a foot away; in fact, there were only a few inches of space between them. Dean looked down at Castiel, his eyes softer than the human had ever seen them. "Hey . . . you alright?"

Castiel swallowed a lump that had risen in his throat. He now seemed to realize the danger that he'd been in. His being began to shake slightly, but he nodded. "Yeah . . . I'm good. Is . . . Is Crowley going to come back?"

Dean shrugged. "Probably. I'd be surprised if he didn't . . . But he's not going to take you away. I promise."

There was little emotion in Dean's words. They seemed almost robotic the more Castiel thought about it. But they soothed him. The human didn't doubt that Dean meant them, it was just the demon part of him that refused to show any emotion. Right? "Okay . . . Thank you for defending me."

"Don't worry about it," Dean admonished. "It was nothing."

"It didn't seem like nothing," Castiel mumbled.

"Please," Dean huffed. "It really is no big deal . . . Just another day in the life of Dean Winchester."

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review and tell me what you thought! :D