Author's Note:
I've gotten word that some people are a bit confused as to what this story's about so I'll toss a hint in here; there will be time travel and dimension jumping coming up
Thank you for the kind words guys XD I've been posting it on Tumblr a bit too and so far not much of a response. Then again I haven't been on that site for very long either.
Primary World: Part 3
It was late; Dean and Sam had spent the night celebrating their friends and the charity given to them. Sam had fallen asleep on the couch as they watched the Indiana Jones movies marathon style, his head lolled to one side and mouth open just enough to give the sense of cuteness. Dean wasn't buying it, or at least that's what he'd say if anyone asked him. Though he would have normally picked his little brother up and carried him to his bed, Dean knew better than to attempt to lift that mammoth of a man. Not that Sam had a lot of mass to him at that time, he was just very tall and Dean knew undoubtedly that he'd whack the poor guy's melon against a wall.
Drifting in and out of sleep Dean felt like he was swimming through his subconscious at times, feeling the waves of waking fading and ebbing away as he slipped into slumber. He could see a face, blurred and out of focus until it turned to look at him. Sharp blue eyes drew his attention in, he felt like he knew this face somehow, or that maybe he was supposed to.
"Who are you?"
"~~-**##..."
"What?"
The rest of the face came into focus then, he couldn't understand or hear the words but he knew that face.
"You're the guy from the statue-" Dean started but was shut up when his mouth was taken over by a kiss, soft lips pressing down on his in possibly the most passionate thing he'd ever experienced. Dean had been with many women but nothing even came close to this. He opened his eyes after realizing they had closed, wanting to ask about it, needing to get a name. But he stopped when he saw the look of pure terror on the other man's face. In a flash the stranger was laid out several feet away from him, eyes still fixed on his like he was about to commit a murder. Another flash and he felt a tension in his hand, Dean looked down to see himself strangling the man, those blue eyes closed and crying.
Dean flailed as he sat up, his head pounding and heart sounding like it was ready to burst out of his chest. "What the hell…" he panted, standing up and running a hand through his hair. "What the hell, what the hell…" He repeated the words as he went to put on his boots and wandered out the door to get some fresh air. He'd had weird dreams before but none so vivid and nothing about killing another person.
Sam hadn't said a word as his brother left, something told him not to ask even though any other time he would have. Dean didn't just run away like that, even after a bad dream. Normally he'd just go and get a drink or something, wouldn't he? Regardless, the situation made Sam a little uncomfortable. He sat contemplating for a few seconds before getting up and walking out the door to look, he wasn't surprised to see the Impala missing. Normally he'd just let it go but this seemed odd. Dean never acted this way and would always say something to him, even if it was just a little 'hey Sam I'll be right back' to his half-conscious self. But this time Dean just walked right out the door and drove off.
He considered just going back to bed, just lying down and closing his eyes again. But he knew himself well enough to know that it'd be impossible to sleep. Standing and staring outside he couldn't decide what to do but overall he couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling growing in him. It'd started a week before his parents' death anniversary picnic and he'd assumed it was because of exactly that, so he didn't think much of it. But it hadn't stopped after the gathering, it'd only gotten worse and now his skin felt like it was crawling. On top of that Dean was acting funny. Sam would be lying if he said he wasn't scared, his nerves were on fire and his brain seemed to jump at every little thing that moved or made a noise.
Things just felt off, like something was there, something evil. He could feel it, it felt wrong and like it meant to hurt them. He had brushed it off before because of how small and silly the whole thing seemed, but with more time passing he couldn't push the thoughts away, dark, painful thoughts. He felt better when Dean was around, there was just something about knowing that your big brother was there, the guy who'd do anything to help you and protect you. He felt safe with Dean. Without him nearby it felt like the shadows were going to crawl toward him, like he'd be dragged away.
When the phone rang he just about screamed. Shakily he picked it up and held it to his ear, thinking maybe it was Dean calling to tell him he'd be right back, just stepping out for something. "Dean?"
"No, it's Jet." The reply came in slowly as he tried to figure out what was going on. The tone in the younger Winchester's voice was off-putting and uncomfortable to say the least. He decided to go with something a little less demanding and asked carefully, "Sam, where's Dean?"
"I don't know," Sam exhaled slowly and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes to try and steady his mind. "He rushed out without saying a word."
The silence on the other end wasn't comforting but it didn't remain very long. "Did you want me to come over or look for him?"
Sam shook his head and was about to answer 'neither, it's fine' but the ground beneath his feet felt like it was starting to tremble. "Come over." His fear answered for him, forming dryness in his throat as he tried to swallow past it. "Please."
"Be right there, kiddo." Jet's presence clicked out as he hung up, leaving Sam alone again. He told himself repeatedly that it was nothing, that he was being ridiculous and over thinking things again. He continued to tell himself this as he felt the foundation rumble again, his heart racing the whole while he stumbled to the window to look outside. The sky that had been clear hours before was dark now, clouded over and there were even flashes of lightning cracking down. Normally he'd be okay with that, however this lightning seemed to be focused very close, as if it were only hitting within the town's limits.
"Dean…" He muttered anxiously, his hand coming up to rest over his heart in an attempt to slow it.
Dean had gone out to get some fresh air; he needed to drive off that horrible feeling and shake the nightmare from his head. Those hurt blue eyes staring at him haunting his retinas. That guy was gone, there was no point in thinking about him now, he thought anyway as he passed by the statue the stranger had been perched on. Dean looked over at it and shook his head again, stupid bad dreams.
He made the decision to turn back when lightning flashed, crashing into the statue with the thunderous roar one might expect to follow. Dean jumped at the suddenness, eyes large with shock as he stared at the now cracked stone. "Just… a coincidence." He murmured, his heart rate increasing drastically. "Not scary or foreboding at all. Nope." And that's what he told himself as he drove back home, at least until the ground broke open just off the street, fissuring behind his car. "Son of a bitch!" Dean shouted, slamming on the breaks just in time to avoid being struck by something flying across the road.
It was too dark to see it properly and much too big to be a dog or even a moose. Dean sat still, hands clenched on the steering wheel and knuckles turning a little white. His brain argued with him for a few seconds but he decided to get the hell out of there while he had the chance.
Castiel skidded to a stop before the monster that had finally shown itself in weeks. "Took you long enough." He growled, shifting his stance to advance, eyes locked with the murderous gaze of the other. He hadn't expected it to be of the class that it was; the type of creature he stood before was often called a 'demoni' and usually didn't get much stronger than D class abilities. This one had evolved and twisted in ways that only the Void could provide, it'd travelled several dimensions and times to get here; Castiel could only imagine what it was capable of. God, he hated these things.
He reached behind himself, hand slipping up the back of his coat and into the fabric itself, within a pocket dimension in the tail end of his overcoat he drew his Pernach Mace and Wheellock Pistol. A combination weapon he'd altered to fire faster and smoother than it used to, a pistol longer than his forearm with a mace attachment at the end for bludgeoning if he needed it. "C'mere ugly," Castiel's tone reverberated with anger as he stepped closer, graceful steps over the debris of buildings the demoni had crashed into.
Hellish crimson eyes blinked at him, a wide mouth pulled back in a grin to show off the sharp carnivorous teeth it owned. The stand off lasted for a few seconds, enough time for Castiel to understand the thing's movements, get a feel for its spirit and analyze its type.
"Oh son of a bitch…" he muttered, his breath held as he stared a little more wide-eyed. His arms tensed and held a little tighter to the pistol in his possession. This thing was A class, meaning it had gained the abilities of the elite demonit, much more trouble than he'd originally anticipated.
Castiel slowly breathed out as the tension grew, both shifting but not moving drastically, gaining better footing but not taking a step, getting ready to act. Lightning lit up the sky and blasted into the earth all over the town, this demoni was a bit of a drama queen it seemed, it liked giving a flashy show as it destroyed and terrorized.
Amongst all the rumbling and noise, Castiel waited too long; the beast screeched and leapt forward at a blinding speed that the slayer wasn't prepared for, his gun only swung halfway to meeting the thing's backside. The mace bounced off its tough hide and did little to no damage, meanwhile the demoni had pounced him down, flat on his back in the street. He gasped for air as it was knocked free from his lungs, struggling to kick the thing off as it clawed at him. Each swipe would have torn into a regular person like butter, but Castiel's coat was made of something much stronger and much less human. However the scratches were starting to dig into his skin and the demoni was figuring out that its current tactics weren't working.
For a second Castiel thought maybe he'd lucked out and this A class hadn't learned any abilities yet, maybe he'd misread its level. Of course, nothing ever went that smoothly, especially for him. As another crack of thunder deafened him, Castiel found himself airborne, the demoni gripping his ankle and throwing him around like a child having a tantrum. He braced himself as best he could but didn't stand a chance until he'd manage to get away. Every time he opened his mouth to chant a spell or even tried to fight back, he felt the impact of his head connecting with an unforgiving surface. He'd dropped the gun, unable to keep a grip on it as he was swung around, though he did manage to watch it skid across the sidewalk and under a nearby car.
Things were getting fuzzy at the edges of his vision, the repetition of blows was starting to blur together and when he was flying through the air for an extended amount of time he almost didn't question it. Except he felt his ankle had lost the clawed pressure that had been digging into him. It had let go.
Despite the extra force behind the last impact Castiel scrambled to his feet immediately, all the while chanting an old spell he tended to save for big fights. His hands began to glow, he felt the heat surging from his palms and up his arms, it hurt but it was necessary.
"Ad ulciscendam deiecta, ego mitto vos retro. Ego ad Deum clamant. 'Da mihi fortitudo.' Contritio mea controlare. Ego mitto vos retro."
The beast roared as it bolted toward him, eating up the ground between them faster than Castiel could finish his preparations. There were safer ways to use this spell but he didn't have enough time. Instead of finding a way to block the on coming blast wave Castiel raised his hand to the demoni's chest as it descended onto him.
Dean screeched to a stop, once again narrowly avoiding something he couldn't identify. The block ahead of him was suddenly blasted apart when a ray of light shot across, obliterating everything in its path. "Holy shit…" Dean muttered, climbing out of the car and staring uselessly. What the hell was going on around here? He couldn't help but think as he hurried toward the disaster. If there were any people left out there they'd need his help.
"Hello?" He shouted, part of him wondering why he was doing this. He was the first on the scene, obviously. Anything he'd come across would be his responsibility, wouldn't it? "Is everyone okay?" Stupid question, he knew.
Dean looked one way down the destruction path and saw nothing moving, or anything really. Glancing down the other way he could see where the ray of light must have started, and a motionless body. At least he could discern that it was a body, if there were any on the other side he couldn't tell. "Hey! Buddy!" Dean called as he ran over, noting how smooth the path was aside from a bit of fallen debris. He knelt next to the man and gently tilted his head, trying not to jostle the stranger as he suddenly recognized him. "You're that…" He murmured, not bothering to finish the sentence as he looked the guy over for anything serious.
Castiel's arms had wounds running up from his palms, the skin had burst open like there had been too much pressure from the inside. His head a red, dripping mess from being hit too hard, a sight that had Dean worrying. He'd never really been into the 'hero' business; the idea of someone else's life being in his hands was far too rattling for him to want to worry about. He could take care of Sam and his closest friends, yes, but strangers? He couldn't just waltz in and do it like others could.
Now that this guy might live or die in his presence, Dean panicked. He lost majority of his brain function and couldn't think of a single thing to do. So what was the first thing he ever did before making a major decision? Ask Sammy.
Dean lifted the surprisingly light body into his arms and carried him back to the Impala. Had to ask Sam, Sam would know what to do.
Author's Note:
English translation of Castiel's chant: "Was thrown down to take revenge, I will send you back. I cry out to God. 'Give me strength.' Ruin my control. I send you back. "
