Chapter Four
Third Person POV
The next day...
Castiel briskly walked into the grand hall of the fortress, high stone walls on either side of him blanketed in ruby-red tapestries all holding the crest of their Brotherhood, as the black-haired male stopped before three seated men dressed in black.
"Brother Castiel..." one of them addressed the master assassin as he knelt down to one knee, bowing his caped head in shame as well as respect of the others, "...why did you fail in your last mission with one Dean Winchester of the Winchester Fratello? We need him dead!"
Castiel swallowed hard, having been unable to forget that man even for the smallest of moments since their time together.
He could not forget those luscious lips of his and the way they had felt against his own, followed by his rich, spicy taste and inviting presence that had wholly commandeered his every attention that night.
Castiel lifted his head slightly to speak.
"Grandmaster Raphael...there were men on the docks...too many that had not been accounted for," Castiel spoke the less-than truthful words to his superiors, damning the consequences if, for nothing else, then how truly happy he had been in Dean's arms that night, "...I fought with most of them, but Dean and a few others escaped."
"Hmm...this is not like you. I am severely disappointed in you, Castiel," Raphael's otherwise smooth voice echoed off of the carved walls of the large hall, making Castiel lower his gaze and accept the meaning of such detrimental words.
"Now, now...Brother Raphael," spoke a much calmer voice from another of the Heads of the Brotherhood, "...I believe this is the first time that Castiel's work has been anything less than perfect. He deserves another chance. Besides, we knew what we were asking of him when he assigned him to the Winchester case. They have not gotten where they are now on sheer luck alone."
At this, Castiel raised his gaze and sought out Grandmaster Michael who had spoken up for him, watching with beaming gratitude in his azure eyes as Michael offered him a small smile in kind.
Raphael sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"What do you think, Grandmaster Uriel?" Raphael turned to the contemplating man on his right for another opinion, and Castiel's cobalt gaze snapped to his personal friend.
"Give him sixteen hours of combat training...as punishment. I also believe that this will not happen again...aren't I right, Castiel?" Urial spoke evenly, his words wise and thought out, as he ended his idea with a question, giving Castiel another chance to speak and redeem himself.
"Absolutely. I will complete this mission in the name of the Brotherhood," Castiel affirmed, bowed his head, and then rose to his feet so he may take his leave.
"...what do I do now...?" thought the dark-haired assassin glumly as he pulled his hood a little lower over his brow before exiting the hall and heading towards the training grounds.
The sun was shining brightly overhead, casting down rays of pure white if one were to look directly, and Castiel sighed to relieve a little of his stress before he was greeted on the training grounds by another assassin and comrade.
"Castiel...you're looking well," a tall, lanky male dressed in white robes and no hood smirked at his approaching friend, two swords in his hands.
"Hello, Inias...I guess you've heard about...my last mission," Castiel lamented and got right the to point of their conversation, the master assassin himself having a hard time saying the word 'failure' despite it being the honest truth.
Inias nodded and then tossed one of the swords to Castiel who caught it easily and then tested its weight in his grip.
"A few of us know..." the tall, younger assassin admitted as he assumed a fencing stance, challenging Castiel to spar and complete some of his mandatory training with him, "...it's so unlike you, though, brother...what really happened?"
Castiel slid into a fighting stance as well, body slightly turned, both hands on the sword that followed the line of his back leg towards the ground, a humbling sight as if he was reluctant to fight, sorrowful of the fact.
Truth be told, Castiel knew that between the two of them, Inias was the better swordsman.
Castiel had been an assassin longer than the younger male, but Inias had come to the Brotherhood with natural talent with long swords.
Castiel had always preferred shorter blades and daggers.
"It's not your concern," Castiel growled out lowly before Inias swung his sword down, meeting Castiel's upward swing that clanged loudly together amidst the otherwise quiet courtyard.
The muscles in Castiel's arms tightened as both struggled trying to knock the other off balance with raw strength alone, Inias being the first to break away as he instead spun on his heel to deliver another attack to Castiel's flank.
"Come on, Brother Castiel...surely something must have happened..." Inias spoke as he moved, Castiel parrying his expertly executed strikes one after another as the younger man proceeded further, "...I only ask because we're worried about you."
Castiel smirked at that, dodging the last attack before moving in with one of his own, aiming for Inias' throat, as he replied, "...I'm not losing my touch that easily, Inias."
Inias escaped the strike with a low twist of his body, his shoulder shoving into Castiel's side to push him backwards while he ascended with a skilled lunge of his sword.
"Neither am I, Castiel!" Inias exclaimed as he slashed towards the older assassin, hitting his sword at an awkward angle in Castiel's hands, causing his own blade to move and the edge of Inias' sword sliced a single cut across Castiel's cheek.
Castiel winced slightly from the pain but quickly recovered as he righted his blade and then parried again.
"...even I can see it, brother...you are distracted...your mind is not on this fight..." Inias spoke to Castiel's face in between their crossed blades, a smile tugging his thin lips at the black-haired male as he continued, "...that wound on your face is proof of it."
Castiel's jaw ticked.
He had been distracted.
Inias's words were the truth and Castiel could not help but feel a flare of heated rage towards the younger assassin for noticing such a tremendous weakness currently gripping him.
A few lines of blood slid down his cheek from the cut and with a deep breath, Castiel succeeded in pushing Inias's sword back with a burst of strength.
Using the momentum of the younger assassin having his guard lowered, Castiel kicked Inias's hand and forced his sword to spring up into the air.
With a fast snap of his wrist, Castiel launched two small throwing knives at the air-born sword, the first blade hitting the steel away just in time to avoid Inias' grasp; the second blade hitting it in just the right place to send the sword flying away from the two of them, removing it from their fight completely.
Inias carelessly looked towards his unreachable sword and in that split second, Castiel swiftly moved behind the young assassin, his sword positively radiating light underneath the brilliance of the sun overhead as he held it steadily against Inias's neck.
"My...well..." Inias held up his hands in surrender, a small smirk curving his features as he stayed still in the presence of Castiel's victorious blade and narrowed eyes from over his shoulder, "...I guess the stories they say about you are true...Castiel...you are a frightening man."
Castiel sighed silently before lowering his sword, walking up next to Inias and handing him the blade, knowing that their match was over and that nothing more needed to be said between them right now.
With that, Castiel lowered his hood from his face and then walked away from Inias and the courtyard, not paying any attention to the few onlookers standing here and there around the enclosed area that had observed his match.
Castiel brought up a hand to his face, wiping away some of the blood from his jaw, inadvertently smearing the thick red that was there, as he continued down one of the many pathways that lead around the fortress.
"What do I do now..." Castiel found his thoughts repeating as he lowered his hands back to his sides as he walked, "...and I only have three days left."
Even though Castiel could feel depression and confusion trying to manifest within himself, trying to cloud his judgment and make his decision for him, the black-haired assassin could still forget the pain currently blossoming from his injured cheek and remember Dean Winchester's breathtaking smile at him.
Eyes the color of rare jade had glistened and darkened with something much more powerful than either of them had let on that evening as Dean had tended to him so carefully, and then had kissed him with a fire Castiel had never known possible in a man.
Castiel licked his lips in thought and for the first time in his entire life, he mentally cursed the Brotherhood for their orders.
