It spread across the path like a great ocean wave, crashing down onto the stones and stretching high into the sky all at once. Sam and Dean froze on the path, staring at the mass in front of them in horror. Castiel bellowed his challenge again.
For a moment the smoke seemed to hover, stagnant, in the early morning air. Then it rushed forward again, crashing down the path. The unicorn broke, fleeing from the mass of blood-colored smoke that rose up behind him.
It rushed over him and forward, blocking his escape. He heard Dean scream and whirled around in time to see the older man fall onto the path, Sam leaning against a tree beside him. Skidding in the dirt, Castiel spread his dark wings and leaped for the open air.
The smoke rose higher and higher over him before rushing back toward the earth. It seemed to flow through his body down to his very bones, and he crashed to the ground with it. Immediately regaining his footing, Castiel turned to run down the path again, the mass of smoke immediately passing over him and spreading itself along the path. The mass grew with every pass over the unicorn until he could not see the end of it.
Still he ran, and the smoke followed just behind him. The ground seemed to melt where it touched, the trees graying and falling away, soft and as easily bent as sun-warmed taffy under a child's hand. The grass glowed unnaturally silver as the smoke spread around the unicorn's feet, catching on his hooves and causing him to trip. It ravaged the land and the unicorn's body as one.
With each touch from the blood-colored smoke the unicorn felt his body weaken. It seemed to wrap itself around his lungs and heart, aging the organs in a way the unicorn had never felt and would never feel again. For the first time in his long life, Castiel felt fear course through him.
Anna was wrong, I will not find the others, he thought, spreading his wings once again. The others are all dead, like her. It has killed them all. It will kill me, too.
The smoke passed over Castiel a final time, rushing through his wings. The unicorn stopped running and slowed to a walk, head bowed. The smell of sulfur clung to his feathers and seemed to sink into his very being, until even the now-familiar scents of Sam and Dean were lost to him.
The smoke stayed behind him, no longer rushing forward but instead lapping at his hooves as gently as the ocean on a clear summer day, pushing him toward the castle and the sea. Castiel went quietly. His limbs felt heavy and he could no longer find the strength to lift his wings from his body. For a moment the unicorn wondered if that was what it felt like to grow old before death, as his sister surely had.
Sam picked Dean up off the ground, the brothers leaning on one another for support. Sam watched as their unicorn walked placidly down the path. "It can't want to kill him, or he'd be dead," Sam whispered. "It's driving him, Dean. Toward the castle and Crowley. We have to do something."
"We can't do anything," Dean said angrily. "We can't kill it. We can't save him."
"There has to be something!" Sam argued. Frantically, he turned his head skyward as dawn began to bloom over the land, casting a pale pink light over the forest. He looked back at the unicorn, sadness filling him. Sapped of his color, the unicorn no longer looked beautiful, but instead uglier than any creature Sam had ever seen. His pelt had faded to an ashy gray, and his mane had gone dull. The wings seemed too big for the body that held them, and the horn, once brilliant and shining and beautiful, looked no better than old, faded ink in a crumbling book.
"There has to be a way," Sam repeated. His voice rose until he was shouting. "There has to be something we can do!"
As if Sam's voice had broken the spell, the unicorn reared again and broke away from the smoke, whirling from the path and passing over the dead land. He ran toward Sam and Dean, kicking up dust behind him to mix with the blood-red smoke that once again chased him.
Suddenly, the unicorn halted, a nearly-human scream ripping itself from his throat. The smoke behind him stopped moving, forming a wall. "Shut your eyes!" Castiel shouted, rearing again. Lightening lit the sky and thunder rumbled, not the artificial thunder of the smoke, but the true thunder of a wrathful storm.
Castiel seemed to glow for a moment, and Dean moved, tackling Sam to the ground and throwing and arm over his younger brother's face, squeezing his own eyes shut and burying his face in the dirt. And inhuman roar of rage thundered through the forest, shaking the path under Dean's face.
Dean raised his head as it faded and dawn broke completely, taking the glow that still spread around Castiel with it. It vanished as the blue of the sky emerged from the clouds and sent pools of sunlight shining down on them. The red smoke itself seemed to fade, turning the color of old blood having turned brown long ago, and thinned so he could see through it.
Turning his head to the unicorn, Dean gave a low moan of pain and scrambled away from Sam. "Oh, shit."
Sam raised his own face from the dirt. "Dean, what is it? Dean, what-oh. Oh, no."
Where the unicorn had stood now lay a young human man, naked in the dirt. The red smoke sprawled around him for a moment before it pulled away and drew back into itself to speed down the path in a swirling motion toward the castle, nearly to the sea. It disappeared completely before they could see where it landed.
"What happened?" Sam yelled, struggling down the path. Dean continued to stare at Castiel's still form in the dirt. Gently, Dean rolled the man over and swallowed hard. His skin was lightly tanned as if he'd spent days traveling in the sun with them in human skin instead of as a unicorn. His hair was dark as his mane, cropped short to his head but still longer than Dean's own. Dean pushed aside the man's bangs and found a small, raised mark in the middle of his forehead. Too light to be a bruise and too dark to be a scar, it looked to dean like a wavy circle.
Castiel's face seemed peaceful in sleep, and Dean thought he looked younger than even Sam. His illusion shattered when the man's eyes opened and he fixed Dean with a stare that made his heart jump into his throat. Eyes as old as a land watched him before darting to take in the forest and finally turning skyward.
"What happened?" Castiel asked calmly. "What's happened to me?"
"You changed," Dean said quietly. "You're human, Cas."
Pushing Dean away from him, Castiel held his hands in front of his face. Trembling, he got to his feet and walked two steps before he fell. Unable to catch himself, Castiel landed face down in the dirt. Sam ran to him, not daring to touch the former unicorn, but knelt on the ground with one hand hovering above his back.
"She knew," Castiel muttered. "She knew this would happen. She knew, and she was wrong. This is wrong. I'm a unicorn. I'm a unicorn!" His voice shook in fear, although his face betrayed no emotion. He looked at the boys, and Sam froze under his gaze.
"We don't know what happened," Sam told him. "The smoke came, and you just glowed and changed."
"This is wrong," Castiel repeated. "I can feel this body dying every second I'm trapped in it. I can feel it aging." He shuddered. "In this form I cannot go on. It would be better for me to return to my forest."
"Not like this," Sam argued.
Dean shrugged. "It's really not that bad. We dress you up a little you'd have the girls all over you."
Castiel's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion and he began to inspect the new body. He studied both his hands, the way the veins moved as he flexed his fingers and how his wrists rotated, unlike his hooves. He turned to see his own back and lifted each foot to inspect them, eyes studying the summer-warmed skin. At last he raised his hand to his face and ran his fingers over his own jawline, feeling the stubble there, and through the jet-black hair. When he reached the small bump on his forehead, Castiel lowered his hands, his shoulders hunched in defeat.
"The smoke should have taken me. It would be better than being trapped in this rotting flesh," he said.
"This could work to our advantage," Sam pointed out. "What could you do as a unicorn in a castle? They'd toss you in the stables and you wouldn't be able to search. Like this you could go anywhere you wanted there. In this shape it might be easier to find the others."
Dean looked away from Castiel's naked form. "We should get him some clothes. Sam, we have anything?"
"Just this," Sam answered. Rummaging through his pack, Sam pulled out a long, tan coat and wrapped it around Castiel, helping him get his arms through the holes. He dressed him like one dresses a child, buttoning the coat and belting it together. His bare ankles peeked out from under the hem, exposing the sun-kissed skin to the air. "There we go. You look human now."
"I will never be human. Not really," Castiel told him. "If I die in this form, I will still be a unicorn. I am the last unicorn."
"Hopefully not for long," Dean grunted. "Now, come on. We've got work to do."
.
"You're letting me down awfully early," said a dark-haired woman. She rubbed her wrists as another man unlocked two cuffs that bound her to the ceiling. She fell to her knees when he did, her sore legs unable to support her weight. The stone scraped against her flesh, adding fresh blood to the crusted mess of fluids on her legs.
"We've got visitors coming," the man said. He undid his leather apron and folded it neatly. "Three men. Well, two men and something else."
"What, you can't tell anymore?" she drawled. The woman scratched at her face, sending flakes of dried blood down onto the stone. "Shit. You did a number on me this time, your highness."
"You killed one of my best guards," he snapped. "I've had the servants draw a bath, and I've laid out something nice for you. Can you walk to the hall yourself, or shall I have them drag you?"
She spat at him. "Pig."
"King," he corrected, snapping his fingers. Two stone-faced women hurried in and lifted the injured woman between them. Her dark hair, tangled and matted with sweat, swung down in front of her face and hid her breasts. Her skin, pale as snow in the faint torchlight, seemed to throb along with her wounds. Fresh blood trickled from her forehead and into her right eye, angry and inflamed from her torture.
"Go to Hell," she spat as the women led her from the room.
The king smiled. "Careful, pet, or I'll put you right back on there when they leave. There are still a few toys we didn't get to try out this time."
Shrugging off the servant's hands, the dark haired woman straightened her back and glared at him. In the faint light, her eyes seemed almost black. "Screw you."
She limped through the door, clinging to the wall for support. The king laughed.
.
"This is it," Dean said, staring up at the entrance to the castle. He walked forward with Sam, Castiel trailing behind them. The former unicorn stared at the castle walls as if he'd never seen a building quite so large. Gargoyles snarled at them from the top of the doorway, the twisted, demonic features causing the brothers to instinctively wrap their hands around their weapons. Castiel's expression remained neutral.
"State your business," two guards ordered as they approached the door.
"We're here to see Crowley," Sam said, straightening so he was at his full height. He towered over the men, but their faces remained stony under their helmets.
"We figured we could work for him," Dean grunted. "There are a lot of monsters around here."
As if an order had been given, the guards stepped aside and allowed the two of them through the door. "The king will see you now. We'll take you to him."
They followed the guards through the twisting hallways, the Winchesters taking in the lavish decorations and elaborate tapestries depicting hunts mythical creatures. Castiel stared straight ahead, ignoring the gaudy displays.
Servants in drab, gray clothing scurried around, disappearing into doorways that were hidden behind the tapestries after casting fearful glances at the boys and guards. "This place is like a tomb," Dean whispered. "Don't castles usually have other noble assholes walking around?"
"I'm surprised he even has servants," Sam whispered back.
"I'm not. You think this guy wants to clean all this fancy shit himself?"
Sam shrugged in response, halting when the guards stopped outside a set of doors. Rising far above their heads and black as the unicorn's horn, the wood itself seemed to pulse with power. The smell of magic radiated off the doors, choking the brothers. Sam and Dean both fought the urge to step back, but Castiel walked forward, narrowing his eyes at the elaborately carved symbols that twisted around one another in the wood.
"He is in here," the guard said, pushing the door open. Castiel walked through first, coat flaring out behind him slightly. The Winchesters followed, Dean flinching when the doors slammed shut.
Dean and Sam gaped when they entered the throne room and saw the king, perched on a large stone chair. Next to him stood the woman they had seen beside the stream during on their journey. Dressed in a pale pink gown, her dark hair flowed past her shoulders in glossy waves to touch the small of her back. Her face was schooled into a bored expression, and she would have been pretty if not for the bruises, open cuts, and stitches decorating her body. Dean winced when the woman shifted her weight and he heard the clanking of chains. As she moved he caught a glimpse of the shackles around her ankles, attached to a chain that kept her rooted to the floor.
"Eyes over here, boys," the king drawled. His heavily accented voice sent a shiver through the brothers, but Castiel stood with his face passive. "Meg had to be punished, but I figured I should pretty her up for the visitors."
"You do know how to make a girl feel pretty, Crowley," the woman said, rolling her one eye that wasn't swollen shut. The king smirked at her before turning to the brothers again.
"Now, why don't you boys tell me what you're doing here, and why your friend over there is naked under his flasher trench coat?" Crowley ordered. Dean glanced at Cas and opened his mouth, but Sam stepped forward to speak.
"My name is Sam Winchester, and these are my brothers, Dean and Castiel," Sam told him. "Dean and I were hunting for dinner when bandits attacked our camp."
"I guess the bandits stole his clothes?" the woman drawled, a smirk blooming on her bruised face.
"Quiet," Crowley snapped. He turned to Sam again and raised his eyebrows.
"We came to work for you. We heard you had a monster problem in your kingdom," Sam said.
Meg snorted. "You and shorty over there sure you're hunters?"
"Yes, Moose, are you and your brothers sure you can hunt for me?" Crowley asked. "I don't like failure."
"Sam and I can hunt just fine. We've been doing it our whole lives," Dean snapped. Crowley raised an eyebrow at him.
"And the flasher over there?" he prompted.
"He's…fragile," Dean told them.
"And naked," Meg added, her tongue poking out between her teeth. Castiel ignored the conversation and continued staring out the window, down into the sea.
"We can fix that easily enough," Crowley said. "Let's see if you boys have the stones for this job. There's a vampire prowling around a few towns over. I want it."
"Sure, we can kill a vampire," Dean told him. "That's no problem."
"I don't want you to kill it. I want you to bring it back here for me," Crowley told them with a smirk. "Meg and I need a new toy."
"You do know how to make a girl feel special, Crowley," Meg said, her voice taking on a mocking accent. Her face broke out in an exaggerated smile as she turned to look at king. "That or you just want me to carve up something else instead of you."
"What? A man can't do both?" Crowley asked. Meg laughed, and Sam glanced nervously at Dean. "I'll keep the flasher here until you get back. Don't worry; I won't chain him to the floor. Meg, find him some clothes." The woman pointedly shook her foot, causing her chains to rattle, and Crowley sighed. "Go on boys. Shoo." Dean gave the king a tight smile and nodded.
"Of course. Sammy and I will be right back with your vampire," he said. Dean gave Meg a glance before turning to walk out the room with Sam.
"That was disgusting," Sam said.
"Didja see the cuts and bruises on her, Sam? That guy probably tortured her and then dressed her all up like a doll. It's sick," Dean said.
"It looked like she wanted to give him as good as she got, though," Sam pointed out. "And apparently we're catching this vampire for him so she can torture it. Plus, we did watch her kill that guy."
"This place is messed up," Dean said as the two exited the castle. "I don't like leaving Cas here."
"He'll be fine. He'll be able to search for the other unicorns while we're gone," Sam responded.
"That doesn't mean I like it," Dean said as he swung up on one of the castle's horses. Sam shrugged and mounted his own horse.
"We'll just have to be fast and get back as soon as we can. We find out where Crowley is keeping the other unicorns, we free them, we find a way to change Cas back, and then we get the Hell out." Sam fixed his weapon more comfortably on his back and tugged at the reigns.
"We can't do it soon enough," Dean told his brother as the two rode off down the path.
.
"There, now. You promise not to run away again?" Crowley asked as he undid the shackles from Meg's ankles.
"No promises, pig," she spat. The king only smiled and Meg whirled around and walked toward where Castiel was still staring at the window. "C'mon, Clarence, the king demands I find you some clothes to wear." When he didn't move, Meg waved her hand in front of his face. "Hey, featherbrain, are you in there? Wake up. What the heck are you staring at?"
"The sea," Castiel answered. "I've never seen it before."
"Yeah, well, it'll still be there after we get you dressed," she snapped. "Now, come on. I think there are some clothes that'll fit you in some closet somewhere, and I need to get out of this doll dress."
"I think you look very nice," Castiel said calmly, not looking away from the window. Meg grunted in frustration and grabbed the sleeve of his coat.
"Move, now," Meg growled. She hauled him away from the window and began to tug him away from the throne room. He followed passively behind her, head bowed.
.
"That's what they dressed you in?" Dean asked two weeks later when he and Sam returned from their hunt. The vampire had put up a struggle, but in the end they had brought him down and, using a makeshift cart, hauled him back to the castle and Crowley. The king had smirked and taken the monster down to the dungeon, leaving the brothers free until there was another monster that needed hunting.
"It is comfortable, Dean," Castiel answered. He rubbed some of the fabric of his lose white shirt between his fingers. "They even match."
"Yeah, the loose white pants and shirt with the trench coat looks great on you," Dean said. "You look like a mental patient."
"Meg assures me I do not," Castiel said calmly. "She told me I looked like 'a scruffy little angel' and then laughed."
"You do look like a scruffy little angel," Meg said as she strode into the room. "Hiya, short stuff. You and your little brother bring me a present?"
"The king took it down to the dungeons," Dean told her. She laughed when he looked away from her still-bruised face.
"Oh, goodie. A new toy is just what I need since I can't get to Crowley yet." Meg clapped her hands together and offered Dean a mocking smile. "Why, I feel just like a little girl on Christmas morning. Maybe he'll even put a nice, big bow on it for me."
"You are injured and should not be exerting yourself," Castiel told her. "Or wearing such tight pants. They will irritate your injuries further."
"Nah, feels kinda good," Meg said. "Alive." Dean looked at her and raised an eyebrow. She smirked back at him.
"Oh, please. If Crowley thinks a few months down in that dungeon can hurt me, he's dumber than I thought." Casually, Meg walked over to the chair opposite Castiel and sat down, putting her feet up on the table.
"I've been told it's impolite to do that," Castiel told her, looking pointedly at her shoes.
"Tell someone who gives a damn," she shot back.
"You've been tortured before?" Dean asked.
"That's how you learn, Deano." Her face broke out in a grin. "Don't look at me like that. That's how you learned, too, I'll bet."
"How'd you guess?" he asked her. Meg's smile got wider, and she pointed at the tiny brand scar on his shoulder.
"That's Alastair's work. I've got one, too. He and daddy liked to brand," she told him. Stripping off her coat, Meg turned to show Dean her shoulder. A large scar, faded almost white, blended in with her pale flesh. It stretched from her shoulder down to her elbow, swirling in an intricate pattern. Other scars decorated both her arms and her neck, some round, others jagged and angry.
"Your own father did that to you?" Dean looked away, disgusted. Castiel continued to stare at her boots.
"Not all of 'em. But like I said, how else was I supposed to learn? Learn by doing, as good old Uncle Alastair used to say." Meg rolled her eyes when Dean didn't answer. "I was born on that rack, and they day they took me off it and put a knife in my hand, it was like a religious experience. Pure."
"That's sick," Dean said.
"That's life, shorty." Meg sighed as Castiel refused to lift his gaze from her shoes. "Alright, Clarence, I'll take them off the table."
"Thank you," Castiel said, turning his head to look at the ocean once more.
"Anyway, Dean, thank you for the present. You know, if you wanted to join me in having a little fun, I wouldn't be opposed. You did catch it, after all." She wiggled her eyebrows at him, and Dean wrinkled his nose. "No? Some other time then. You be good, Castiel. Oh, and Dean. Whatever you're looking for, I'd check the library. It's at the end of the hallway on the fourth floor, past the knife room. I'm not that stupid that I think you're actually here to work for that dick." Dean's mouth fell open as she grabbed her jacked and sauntered out the door, slamming it behind her.
"Cas, did you tell her anything?" Dean shouted, whirling to face his friend. Castiel shook his head, not looking away from the water.
"No, but she did show me the library. I know how to collect honey now," Castiel answered. "There is some in the kitchen. You should try it. Meg told me it was delicious. I searched the grounds with her, but I found no traces of my people."
"Did you spend the time we were gone hanging out with her?" Dean asked. Castiel nodded.
"Yes. It was educational. We caught a fish together," Castiel answered. He looked away from the window and straight at Dean. "She and I walked through nearly the whole castle together, and I could find no trace of unicorns here, either. It was a mistake to come here. I should have stayed." His face fell. "I tried to heal her wounds. It did not work."
"Bitch probably gets off on it," Dean muttered. Castiel gave an almost-human sigh. "Look, Cas, we'll find them, and when we find a way to change you back and save the others, you'll get your healing abilities back. Then you can fix her up however you want before you go home." Castiel grunted in response before pushing away from the table.
"Come. We should find Sam and then the library," Castiel said calmly. "Meg obviously knows we're looking for something, and there may be something there that will help us."