Dean hated everything. The underworld the demons had created wasn't far from what a human city looked liek, since it was inspired by a human civilization; There were even 'supermarkets'. The only real difference being that all the stock was generally meant for demons. While a human would pop out for some milk or something, these stores were stocked with canned-souls, carnivorous pets and pet food, half of which included live meat.
Dean scowls when he passes by some of these things. They're like any other thing he would hunt, but smaller than entertaining prey. Most of them are college kids, maybe fair sized animals. There were rabbits and snakes with their fangs removed, spiders and sparrows. All small, virtual nothings to him.
He ventured further down the pet food aisle, looking for human food. While humans were common pets, angels were an entire different matter, and he thanked Lucifer they ate similarly, since their vessels interlinked when an angel lost its powers. Technically if a demon somehow lost it's abilities, it would be stuck in the same patterns. Demons didn't really need to eat themselves, but it made you stronger to consume a soul, and some of the most powerful demons ate something near ten a day, just to show off their position. I am better than you kind of thing.
Dean finally made it to his destination, eyeballing the small variety of foods. It was all simple food anyway, no need to be picky. Dried foods, canned foods, things that took a long time to spoil. He plucked something random off the shelf, reading its label and price. It seemed cheap. Bread must have been something common. He smirked: lowly food for a lowly creature. He gripped the plastic by the it's knot, making his way back to the check out. He dropped the bread over the counter wearily, fisting around in his pocket in search of some money. He never used it much, but it was necessary for markets. Well, necessary if you didn't feel lie fighting. It was how they traded for food up top, and so they did it there too. Lots of guys just took what they wanted and beat the store owner if they gave em' a hard time. Dean didn't feel up for a fight that morning though. He grinned when his fingers caught hold of a bill, shoving it onto the counter as the man stared at him.
"Human food eh?" he questioned, shoving the bill into a box before dropping a few coins back into Dean's hand. "You have a pet?"
"Is it your business?" he growled, just wanting to get home.
The man grunted, plucking a coin out of Dean's had before he could retract it. "It's early, obviously something's hungry." He grinned smugly, tossing the coin up in the air in front of Dean's face.
"On the contrary," Dean frowned, catching it mid-air, "He wouldn't eat what I gave him."
"Him?" the man asked, his smirk growing into a perverted, oily grin, "So not a pet? Or the kind of pet you chain to the bed?"
Dean glared at him before turning his back to leave, staring at the coin he'd caught, flipping it over a couple times. He'd called the angel a he… not an it… That wasn't how he referred to things. It was easier to kill something you didn't give a pronoun.
The walk back wasn't far, and he figured the angel would be hungry by the time he got back. He thought it over a bit, realizing he couldn't actually remember the angel's name. Though he did remember asking. He frowned. Why did he care what his name was? What its name was, he corrected himself.
He groaned with frustration and kicked at the road vainly. Today was turning out to be a crappy day.
Cas couldn't be more content than he was then, whispering to the jar in front of him. "How long have you been here?" he asked, watching as the blue orb within the jar glowed.
"...I couldn't say…" replied a voice, the orb swimming within the air in the jar. "...But it feels like forever…"
Castiel was quietly excited. This could make his time in hell more tolerable at least, someone to talk to. A human too. No one he'd have to worry about when it came to issues of moral ambiguity. Demons weren't exactly great conversationalists, at least not if it wasn't with their own kind. Castiel didn't feel like talking about torture and death, so having a soul -a real, well mannered, beautiful soul- to talk with would certainly light up his days.
Cas rolled over onto his back, looking up at the ceiling from his position on the floor, determination on his face. "I won't let him eat you."
The voice was silent for a moment, as if thinking. "Thank you, kind angel. If I may ask though...Why exactly are you here?"
Cas turned his head to face the jar, holding up his wrists to show it the bracelets. "I'm a prisoner, or as he's calling me, a bride." he let his arms fall and tipped his head back towards the ceiling, "He wants an heir, apparently. It's something he and another demon are scheming."
"...I cannot see, but I can feel your presence... I can sense you are not a woman… nor are you with child…"
Cas nodded, letting his arms fall back to the floor. "I know." He let out a heavy sigh. "My sister is female. They took her too, and though I find it disgusting to say, that at least makes sense. It would make sense to take a female if you wanted a spawn, but I do not understand his intentions for me… My vessel is obviously male."
The orb floated into an oval, speeding up its movements to look like a whole shape before making a quick jab towards the bottom of the jar, creating a heart-like shape with it's neon drawing.
Cas stared at it before frowning. "He's a demon. Demons don't care for others, wanting love doesn't seem very plausible. Besides that," Castiel huffed, "he said I am his pet. I don't even think he'd capable of that. Demons do not love."
"...and angels do not keep souls locked away…" it replied, slowing down back into its original blob of Aquarian light.
"I can't let you free… he'd be cross."
"...You care for his opinion?" The orb seemed to darken as it spoke this time, "You are a divine being are you not?"
Castiel let out a heavy sigh before lifting himself off the floor and staring back out the window. "Not without my powers..." He held up his wrists, glaring at the bracelets.
"Do you fear this demon?"
"I simply choose my battles wisely. I am not afraid."
The soul gleamed with pleasure. "Then why not let me out? What do you have to fear?"
Cas stared back at the jar, as if contemplating before scooping it up into his hands. "Who are you?" he asked, curving his eyebrows as he studied it.
"I am a human, whose soul was taken from me. I am devil food like this, meant to be devoured in every sense of the term. But if you release me..."
"Who would I be saving if I let you out?" Castiel questioned, "Who are you?"
The orb's blue light flickered away before melting into a blazing red, making the jar too hot for Castiel to hold. He threw it, the glass breaking over the corner where carpet met wall, and shattering. The red soul emerged from the jar, seeming to grow as it gloomed down over Castiel's body. "You tried to trick me!" Castiel declared, frowning up at it.
"You have freed me, little helpless angel." The voice boomed. It was different now, deeper, more harsh and rugged. "To thank you, I will take over your body and free you from this place."
"No," he rejected, standing up as a wind picked up within the room, whipping around his coat and hair, the worn out tie flapping into his face.
The soul loomed over him, growing larger for every second it released itself. "You, pitiful as you are, would be honored to be taken by my soul. I used to be a king! I ruled valleys and lands beyond all wildest dreams!"
"Hey!" shouted a voice from behind them.
The angel spun around, only to see Dean, standing in front of the door, some form of demonic blade in his hand, a Mason jar in the other. "Come get me you big ugly freak!"
The blazing red mass surged over to him, gliding right over Castiel. Dean flipped the knife in his hand, the blade focused on a target. He shut his eyes as a agonizing roar neared him. He took in a deep breath before jumping, opening his eyes to slash above him with vigorous force, cutting a tagged tare right down it's center. It sounded confused, making muffled cries and whimpers as blue leaked from its wound, dripping down where dean was ready to catch with his jar.
It wasn't long before the soul shrieked, shrinking down until there was nothing left but the blue liquid that half-filled Dean's Mason jar. He screwed the lid shut tightly before slamming it down on the kitchen counter, hunching his shoulders as he hung his head with frustration and taking deep breaths.
Castiel stirred nervously. "...Thank y-"
"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Dean yelled, his face nearly turning red as he took a few steps closer to him.
The angel staggered back a little bit. "I didn't-"
"You can't play with these souls you goddamn moron!"
Dean let out an irritated click of his tongue before briskly walking over to kept his head high, ready to take whatever the demon was about to give him. His eyes would have been a good match against Dean's stare, but he was powerless, and it had been his fault for messing with the soul. He found himself unable to keep eye contact and turned his head away. If he was lucky, he'd only get beaten, but Castiel had no angel strength to defend himself this time around. He quietly prayed God was still looking after him.
"...Did it hurt you?"
Castiel blinked with surprise, "...What?"
"I said," he started, grabbing one of Castiel's hands to examine, "Did it hurt you?"
It would be annoying to have to tend to the angel's injuries. That was why he asked, but it wasn't his fault if the angel mistook it as some kind of affection. Maybe the creature would respond better to praise than paddle. Something unreadable tugged at his chest.
"...N-no... it didn't have any time to... You..." He turned his head away. "You showed up before it had the chance."
Dean grunted in understanding, looking over to see the mass of broken glass on the floor, "These souls aren't good ones, idiot. The only souls allowed in hell are the wicked. That's what we eat." He shook his head. "They'll try to trick you if it means they'll get free. Think next time."
"I'm sorry."
Dean frowned, dropping his hand suddenly. "Clean the mess up. You made it."
Castiel nodded, as Dean walked away, plonking himself down onto the couch before rubbing his temple. Cas tried to wrap his head around everything, as he carefully picked up the glass piece by piece, gingerly setting each shard into his palm. He'd never seen a soul like that up close before, and it made him wonder about what other horrors awaited him down in this hell hole. Thinking about it though, he found it out of behaviour for a demon to have saved him. Even more to be concerned. It was a little suspicious even. Was he up to something? Trying to win over Castiel's trust for some devilish reason?
He slowly made his way over to the kitchen, dumping the glass into the trash before staring at all the empty jars scattered over the counter. His stomach growled.
"There's bread on the counter," Dean grumbled, waving his hand over his head dismissively, "If you're hungry eat it."
"Thank you..."
Dean groaned, "I told you to stop saying that already…"
Castiel searched the counter with his eyes until he found the loaf of bread resting in the middle of a few empty jars. He frowned as he looked over the mess of a kitchen, opening the bag to take out a piece. The first bite of bread was a little dry, but he was hungry enough to not care, swallowing hard before hesitantly biting off another mouthful. All he could see was jars and beer bottles, a mess everywhere.
The other area, what he called the couch room, was perfectly clean, but the kitchen was dreadful. He frowned to himself before peeling another piece off the loaf after he'd so quickly eaten the first. It shouldn't concern him, how messy this demon's home was.
Castiel took out a third slice for himself as he ate the second, heading back to the couch and sitting on the far corner. There was silence for a long period of time as Castiel munched on his bread. They both just stared out the window, Cas taking a couple cautious glances over his shoulder at the demon when he could. "Need something?"
Castiel startled when he spoke, swallowing his bread the wrong way and coughing for a minute. "Ack! so- Keh! sorry..."
"Just breathe out," Dean told him calmly, "Just relax your shoulders and breathe out."
Castiel sucked in on accident before breathing out hard, pushing the bread back into his mouth. He shook his head. "T-thank you.."
Dean groaned, "Why do you keep saying that?"
"...Because you keep helping me…" Castiel replied, rubbing his throat soothingly.
Dean turned his head to face him. "Do I?"
Nodding, the angel shifted his face away, clasping the ends of his coat. Dean returned to leaning his head against the back of the couch, arms up on either side of him. Castiel shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "You know... the soul and I were talking…"
"Whatever that bastard said was probably bullshit. You shouldn't believe a word of it," he replied, letting his eyes fall shut calmly.
"Not all of it..."
Dean frowned, clenching his teeth, "What'd he say?"
"..."
"Hey," he tried again, more firmly, "What'd that shitface say?"
"...What use do you have for me if I'm a male?"
Dean's shoulders tensed a little. He'd sort of let that slip from his mind for a while. The guy was right, he really didn't know yet,but Benny had promised to look into it. There was probably some sort of shit magic to help them out, maybe something scientific? "That reminds me..." Dean said, ignoring his question for the moment, "My brother's coming over today… Damn it."
"Do you dislike your brother?"
Dean chuckled, "No. But he's a bit of a clean freak. You know, everything tidy and organized."
Castiel nodded, watching Dean round the couch for the kitchen. "Get up off your ass and help me clean," he ordered, making his way to the messy counters.
Castiel stood to follow, coming up just as Dean pulled a black plastic bag from beneath the sink. "Here," he barked, thrusting the bag into his hands, "Shove everything that's non-edible into the bag."
Following his orders, Cas dropped the various jars into it with speed, pausing his haste only when he came across the jar with the dead soul, nothing left but a dull, blue liquid. "Just toss it into the fridge," Dean told him, noticing the way he paused to look at it, "They help make a good cocktail." He grinned.
Castiel gently put it on the shelf with the other souls, noticing the way the others seemed to cringe away from it. He wanted to apologize to them, but then he remembered what the demon had told him. These were wicked souls.
He let his head fall with defeat before shutting the door.
They did manage to get the place cleaned, but it only made the house seem even more empty. The counters were bare except for the partially eaten loaf of bread. Castiel made his way back to the couch cautiously, sitting himself down on the far side of it once again. "Hey," Dean called, smirking when the angel spun his head around instantly, "Come with me, Sammy'll throw a fit if he knows you've been wearing the same shit."
"I don't understand," Castiel replied, following none the less.
"Just shut up and get in here." He grinned.
