PART FOUR
Longing
-1-
Sleep didn't come easy, or long. He drifted off a few times but each time he did it was to fall into nightmares.
If Castiel hadn't been there, he might have crawled into Sam's bed again. Knowing Sam, Sam would tolerate it without question this time around.
When had he gotten so needy? Or had he always been so needy and just never had the courage to face it? Sam was the independent one, truth be told. Sam didn't need anyone. Not dad, not Dean, not Cas. He was content to go it on his own and face the human world head on. Dean wasn't like that. From the get go he relied heavily on those he loved.
When they were all together, Dean, Sam and Dad, that had been the perfect world for Dean. Those days he had truly been happy. When Sam left them that had been the first blow. Then Dad died. Things were never the same, even after Sam was at his side again. Sam was never really invested. Not the same way Dean was invested.
For Sam, Dean was family, but Dean wasn't everything.
For Dean, Sam was his entire world. He would die for Sam. He would live for Sam. He would do anything for Sam. He didn't need anything else as long as he had Sam. The problem was, Sam never felt the same way.
When Castiel came into his life things had hit a low that Dean didn't think he could ever lift himself out of. Dragged from the pit of hell, where he witnessed parts of himself that he'd never wanted to witness, dragged into a world where he started to realize Sam would never be as loyal to him as he was to Sam and straight into the middle of the apocalypse. It hadn't been a good place but Castiel... well, Castiel was loyal.
He could remember the first time Sam called out to Cas with no answer. The first time Cas came for Dean but not for Sam. It shouldn't have pleased Dean, it should have made him angry but instead it started something. The Leviathans, Purgatory... the ups, the downs... all of it pushed them closer and closer until Castiel became as much family as Sam... if not more.
These past few years Dean had adapted. He'd learned how to be alone but it made him miserable. It wasn't how he was wired to function. It wasn't what he wanted out of life. It wasn't him.
It killed him to know that when this was over Sam would leave, Castiel would disappear and he'd be alone yet again.
It was nearly noon when the Winchester's woke. When Sam stirred, Dean pretended to wake as well. Dean had been awake for some time but he wasn't willing to face Cas alone. The night had driven a wedge of fear in his heart. A fear he didn't understand and didn't care to face just yet.
They weren't alone but the little girl Cas had been possessing yesterday was gone. In her place was a wide, pock faced, bald, pot-bellied hillbilly. Complete with no shirt, suspender straps and a piece of straw tucked behind his ear.
Sam reacted first, grabbing for the gun tucked under his pillow with impressive speed for someone who hadn't been in the business for a long time.
The hillbilly stared at him blankly. Come to think of it, he sat rather straight for someone with that particular build. Dean knew, he knew without the hillbilly having to speak, he knew without needing any confirmation of any sort, that this hillbilly was Cas.
"Seriously, Cas?" Dean shook his head, "this is the vessel you choose?"
"The girl proved to be too weak to contain me," Castiel answered, his voice now had a strange drawl to it. Still, it was Castiel's voice, just with a new filter.
"About that," Sam reluctantly lay his gun down but he was staring at Castiel's new form with a mixture of amusement and disbelief, "since when do vessels deteriorate so quickly for you?"
Since when did he care if he damaged the host? Castiel hadn't seemed too concerned about that sort of thing before, when he voluntarily took Novak and then Novak's daughter. In the end Castiel's possession of Novak had cost Novak his life, and honestly Sam couldn't remember seeing even the barest hint of remorse in Castiel over that.
Castiel had a secret. It was easy to see in the long silence before he spoke and in the awkward way in which he shifted his eyes. It was good to know he was still lousy at hiding things, "It's complicated."
"So explain it. We got time." Dean pressed.
"No, we don't."
"Right, you're a marked man."
"And I'm willing to bet we are too. They already came for you once Dean, they'll probably come again," Sam slid off the bed and stretched, "may as well find that Eye of Bethel before those Seraphim find us."
-2-
Dean smelled. So did Sam. So did he. Castiel was unused to humanity. It felt foreign to him. All those years ago, time that may as well have been a millenium, before he left this place, he had been so used to humanity that he stopped noticing the little things.
Now the little things were like glaring obvious signs. They were everywhere. The touch of the car seat beneath fingers that seemed perpetually sweaty. The uncomfortable sensation of sweat and rash forming between the folds of his stomach. The scent of Dean. The different scent of Sam. The obnoxious scent of his vessel. These were things humans probably didn't notice. They were surrounded by these things all the time. These things they took for granted.
Castiel sat in the center of the back seat. In this position he could watch the road ahead and through the rear view mirror he could see the road behind but also... every now and then, he could catch Dean's eyes. When that happened Dean would look away, but so would Castiel.
This was something else he'd forgotten. The pull of attraction.
I love you, man.
I know.
No. I love you.
In the beginning, almost as soon as man had been created, angels and men were allowed to walk amongst each other. Castiel had never been one of those who chose a life on earth but he had been there. He had witnessed the way his siblings changed. The more they were with the humans, the more strange they became until finally humans and angels began to love in ways that they weren't meant to love.
It was forbidden. It was against the Father's law and so they were separated. The angels banned to forever live in the spiritual realm alone and the humans denied the presence of the angels they had grown to so love.
All those millenia ago Castiel had not understood. It seemed like a madness, a sickness. He watched his siblings change. He watched them weep and moan and then he watched them fall.
One by one.
Sacrifice after sacrifice.
And for what? To live a limited life with the humans they had come to adore.
Castiel never thought he would understand. He thought this was a madness that would forever be foreign to him.
Eyes in the rearview mirror. A brief connection and then Dean looked away. Castiel continued to look into the mirror. He waited for those brief glances. In those seconds when their eyes met he felt something. And he wanted to feel it more.
-3-
Madison, Wisconsin
The Eye of Bethel was no easy thing to track down. History had forgotten it. Somewhere along the way it had fallen into myth and legend. Stories of its location varied. Some stories said it had been lost to the Persians. Some said a dragon had taken it over the seas, but never specifying which seas. And then there were the stories that involved the American continent and it was those stories Sam and Garth decided to focus on.
At first Dean didn't ask where they were going. He got in the car and he drove. At the end of the day when they took a hotel room in Madison, he finally seemed to take interest in the situation at hand, "Where exactly is this Eye of Bethel?"
"Canada," Sam said quickly. He grabbed their bag from the trunk and headed towards the hotel.
"Wait, what? Canada?"
Castiel tried to pull his large vessel out of the back seat of the Impala with some difficulty. The vessel didn't exactly fit in the first place, so getting out was a bit like trying to pull a square through a round hole.
Both Dean and Sam abandoned him while he continued trying to squeeze his way out.
"It's the closest location," Sam said as he looked for their room number. They were on the first floor this time. Room 104.
"Canada!" Dean grabbed Sam's arm, "polar bears. Igloos. Freaking Sasquatches Canada?"
Sam tried to fight back the smirk that was attempting to tilt his lips, "There are at least six possible locations for this Eye of Bethel. Five of those are overseas. One of them is in Canada."
"Right, so we check the other five."
"How, exactly? We don't have working passports Dean. It's one thing to carry fake badges, but the way airport security is these days we'd get caught for sure with fake ID."
"Cas can zap us."
"Cas?" Sam looked back to where Castiel had managed to wedge himself halfway out of the back seat. His leg was caught between the driver's seat and the back seat. He hopped and wiggled and tried to unstick himself. "I don't know if you noticed Dean, but something's wrong with Cas."
Dean looked back too and despite everything he had to laugh, "Bit like watching a whale try to swim in a kiddie pool isn't it?"
"Maybe you should help him."
Dean grabbed the key from Sam's hand and then the bag, "You help him."
Cas' leg came free and he tumbled to the ground, landing in an ungraceful heap. "All right, Cas?" Sam called.
"I appear to be unbalanced." Castiel responded calmly.
"Yeah... need help?"
"I am capable of rising on my own."
"Here's hoping he gets a new vessel soon," Dean muttered as he unlocked the door and headed into their room.
"What is the Eye of Bethel?" Dean asked once they had settled into their room.
Castiel stood near the door, a curious frown fixed on his usually expressionless face. "No idea," Sam said, "Garth and I couldn't figure that out. I mean, this thing is so obscure that the few stories that DO mention it are just fragments. It sounds like some creature a millenium ago used it to kill a giant but that's all we got."
"It belonged to Bethel, one of the host of Cherubim," Castiel said, "Bethel was the first to choose humanity over heaven."
"So it's actually an eye?" Sam asked.
"You might call it that. It's more like... the physical manifestation of Bethel's heart." Castiel shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, "I believe this vessel is damaged."
"So the eye is a heart, what does that mean?" Dean ignored the last part, he ignored how pale Castiel's vessel was looking, he ignored the worry gnawing at his insides. Focus. Focus on something other then the fact that even now, even though he was in that, Dean still felt drawn to Cas.
"Your vessel is damaged?" Sam, however,was more concerned about Castiel than the mission.
"When Bethel fell, a piece of him tore apart. The piece that belonged to heaven."
"His grace?"
"No. His heart. The heart that loved our father. The heart that loved us all. It was lost. Dropped into the hands of humans and never seen again."
"What does it do?"
Castiel twitched. It was small, barely there but Dean saw it. "It will give you the power to kill the Seraphim."
"How?"
"I do not know exactly how it works."
Now Dean knew Castiel was lying. He glanced at Sam and judging by the look on Sam's face, Sam knew it too.
"Where is it, Cas?"
"I don't know. Angels can't see it. They can't hold it. They can't use it."
"So we have to search all five of these locations and just hope one of them is right?" Dean shook his head, "this could go faster if you just zapped us where we need to go."
"If I do that, it will immediately reveal our location. I can't use my powers. Not now."
Sam nodded, "To Canada it is."
"And if it's not in Canada?"
"We figure out a way to fly."
"Cas," that sorted, Sam switched back to Castiel's earlier statement, "how is your vessel damaged?"
"The scent of it is foul."
"It's called sweat," Sam smiled, "and you're right. It's pretty foul. Go shower. You'll smell better after."
This. This right here, was driving Dean to insanity. How was this possible? How was this even a thing? They were alone. In the bathroom the pipes were creaking and groaning while Sam showered. Castiel's hillbilly vessel was cleaned up, half naked and seated on the couch. Castiel's eyes were glued to the television.
The news wasn't good. More mass murders throughout the country. People were dropping dead like flies. Dean didn't even care. One thing and one thing alone was consuming his focus now.
How. Was. This. A. Thing?
How could he be looking at that body and be feeling this?
How could he want that?
"You'll need a new vessel soon?" He asked.
Castiel barely glanced up from the television, "This vessel appears to be handling the strain of my presence better than the last."
Damn. Dean stood, "I'm heading out."
"Where?"
"To get something to eat. Tell Sam would you?"
"Very well."
He couldn't get out quickly enough. Once outside he realized he didn't have his jacket and he hadn't seen it since the day before when he gave it to Cas. The thought of going back in to look for it was more disturbing than just sucking it up and bearing the cold.
-4-
"Where's Dean?" Sam emerged from the bathroom fully dressed. Something about Castiel made him self conscious. Maybe it was because the guy was an angel, the purest being there was.
"He said he was going to get something to eat," Castiel said, "how do you work this?"
Sam took the remote from Castiel's hand, "this changes the channel. This adjusts the volume."
"Ah."
Sam might have asked why Castiel couldn't just will the channels to change but he didn't. Instead he rubbed the towel through his hair until he stopped dripping. He glanced at the television long enough to catch a brief headline from a news station as Castiel flipped indiscriminately through the channels.
"More attacks?"
"They aren't attacking."
"But... people are dying."
"Their presence alone is enough to drive the sinful to death," Castiel said.
"I met them."
"Yes."
"I didn't die."
"Yes."
"... how am I not sinful?"
"You are not exactly human."
"I'm not human?"
"Not anymore," Castiel set the remote down. On the television an episode of Maury was playing out. A busty woman in a short skirt and tube top was screaming at some other woman. Castiel watched with intense concentration.
"Because of the demon blood."
"You are more demon than human, yes."
"Are you serious?"
Castiel looked over at Sam. Sam's expression was twisted with disbelief and pain, "I'm sorry Sam."
"What about Dean?" Sam asked with difficulty, "he met them too. He didn't die."
Castiel's eyes flickered away. He shifted uneasily. "Dean's soul is pure."
"Dean's soul is pure?" Sam repeated.
"Yes."
It always had been. Like most humans Dean made bad choices. He had made exceptionally bad choices in Hell, and on earth. His motivations were always good. His heart was always good. Dean was the most pure human Castiel had ever met. That was part of the problem. Perhaps if he had been any less than he was, Castiel might have found him as other as any other human. Instead Dean had a soul that, in some ways, matched Castiel's own.
Sam had trouble wrapping his head around this particular revelation so he fell into silence. Castiel returned his attention to Maury and the screaming women and they sat in mutual quiet, waiting for Dean to get back.
-5-
"How much longer are you going to be in that particular vessel Cas?" Dean asked yet again after watching Castiel spend a good ten minutes squeezing into the Impala. Part of him feared the Impala was going to be hopelessly stretched after all of this but he didn't pay too much attention to that part.
"He should last another day or two."
"Maybe... it would be better to get a new host sooner," Dean suggested delicately as he eased into the driver's seat.
"You believe the vessel is damaged?"
"Yeah. I'm pretty sure he's looking a bit pale. You should get a new one."
"I don't believe he's damaged. Just sweaty."
"I'm pretty sure he is."
Castiel considered the validity of Dean's statement. The vessel didn't feel damaged but it was difficult to tell. His judgment these days wasn't what it had been. He was distracted, but also he had difficulty saying no to anything Dean suggested. Even this.
"Very well," he crawled back out of the vehicle.
"Wait," Sam turned in his seat, "What are you doing now?"
"Give me a few moments."
They saw it, the moment Castiel's true form left the hillbilly. A bright light clouded their vision, they both instinctively closed their eyes, a curious warmth washed over the area, an intense ringing filled their ears. The windows on the Impala shattered. Dean swore. Sam did too.
When it was over the hillbilly lay on the ground, the Impala was left completely devastated and Castiel was gone.
"Are you freaking kidding me!" Dean cried out, slamming his hands against the steering wheel in anger.
-6-
"Why did he leave?" Hours later, when Castiel wasn't back and the Impala was in the shop getting her windows replaced, Sam and Dean found themselves alone in the hotel room.
The hillbilly turned out to be a mechanic from Ohio named Derk. He was no worse for wear but he was crazy confused. He remembered Castiel and agreeing to let Castiel use his body. He was just surprised an 'angel of the lord' would take him to Ohio.
'What's in Ohio?' he asked, 'are you angels too?'
Sam took the guy to the local bus depot, bought him a ticket home and sent him on his way. And then they waited.
And waited.
And waited.
"To get a new vessel," Dean angrily threw clothes out of his duffel bag. No sign of his jacket, yet.
"No, I mean before. When I left you, Dean, I thought you had Cas. It seemed like... well, it kind of seemed like he intended to stay."
Dean winced, "I don't know."
"Right," Sam stood, "well, want to get something to eat?"
"God yes."
The local pub was pretty much a dive. It was early in the night so there were only a few customers. Sam ordered his usual douchey meal, Dean ordered a massive plate of chicken fingers and fries.
While they ate people began to trickle in. Sam knew Dean was different. He knew they'd both changed over the years. He didn't realize how different until a gorgeous female in the tightest dress he'd ever seen strode past, casting a little smile at Dean as she went.
An open invitation like that a few years ago would have had Dean practically salivating. Now Dean didn't even notice.
"Are you all right?" Sam asked.
Dean looked up, still chewing on a piece of chicken. He swallowed, "Huh?"
"Never mind," Sam said but he found himself watching Dean closely.
Something was definitely wrong. Crawling into bed. The awkward silence when Castiel was around. This, just now. Whatever it was Sam wasn't going to pry too much but if it got much worse he would push for answers.
-7-
"Castiel."
He had only just taken possesion of a new vessel when Kael found him. Castiel turned. Kael remained in the same vessel he had been in before. The body was hulking, huge, and damaged. Of course for Kael finding a new vessel would be no easy task. He was no regular angel. There were very few humans who could hold him.
It was a risk, leaving that hillbilly and coming here in his true form. That's why he chose a new vessel so far from the Winchester's. Why it would take him so long to get back. He didn't dare use his powers to return to them. Every time he used his powers he sent out a cosmic ping saying: I'm here.
"You must return."
Castiel raised his hand, "I am not the one who abandoned the throne of god."
"We will hunt you to the ends of the earth. We will tear your human vessel apart. We will drag you kicking and screaming if we must-"
"You won't stop me."
"It is the will of god that we stop you."
Castiel snorted, with a twist of his wrist Kael dropped to his knees. Another twist of his wrist sent Kael face first into the floor. But Kael had power of his own. He surged up with a scream. Castiel didn't stick around for a fight. He disappeared in a flash and Kael slammed into the wall that Castiel had been standing in front of.
Kael shouted and a single thought brought the others into the room.
The six stood around him.
"Follow him!" Kael growled.
Two by two they flickered out of sight until Kael alone remained.
Castiel could not evade them forever.
Soon his strength would wane, and when it did, he would be theirs.