The next time Dean saw Castiel, it was 3:37 on a Monday afternoon in a shady alleyway. He had a knife against the side of his neck and was – though he would never admit it – scared as all hell. Why this guy had chosen him in particular he had no idea, but the fact that Castiel was there somehow simultaneously made things so much better and so, so much worse.
Though Dean only spotted the small group of people when they were ten minutes' drive away from home, he supposed in hindsight that it should have been fairly obvious that this had been set up. When he'd met up with a generally happy Sam after study group finished and walked out to the car, he'd noticed that there was road work going on outside the school that hadn't been there when he'd arrived. But he hadn't thought much of it, hadn't thought much of that small detour he had to take... and the next one, and the one after that. When they ended up in the back streets of the city after taking their fourth detour, Sam finally said something.
"This is really weird," he said, sounding anxious. "That was our fourth detour. What if someone's trying to lead us somewhere?"
"Aw, c'mon, Sammy," Dean replied casually, though he was beginning to feel on edge as well. "How many different kinds of bored would anyone have to be to do that? We're fine."
"Haven't you noticed there's pretty much nobody else driving around here?" Sam said tensely, looking out the window at the dingy apartment buildings surrounding them. "Dean, we need to turn around and take some other way home."
Dean began to say that no, this neighbourhood was fine and there was no way to get past all those detours anyway, but then he noticed a small group of people in a wide alley to the left of the road. At first it looked like just a bunch of people hanging out, but then Dean remembered that people didn't just hang out in this area. As the car drew closer, he saw that they were cornering two smaller-looking people, possibly kids around his age. When the group shifted slightly and Dean could see the victims clearly, he realized those two people were kids he knew – none other than a guy called Ronald Resnick and a girl named Madison, a couple of juniors from school. He slowed the car, bringing it to a stop on the kerb before he remembered that Sam was in the car with him.
"Stay in the car," he ordered him, leaving the keys in the ignition. "If you need to get away, drive."
"What? Dean –" Sam began, but Dean slammed the door of the car shut before he could finish his sentence. He strode up to the group unhesitatingly. These poor juniors were practically defenceless, and Dean wasn't one to let innocent people get hurt for no good reason.
"Hey," he yelled, and the group of people turned around. Now that Dean was closer, he could see there was only four or five of them, but all of them looked like they could take him on. One of them, a tall guy with long hair and a protruding chin, had a knife in his hand. Dean didn't back away. Dealing with nasty strangers from Dad's "business" had taught him to always be prepared to fight, and as he walked, he ran through techniques and steeled himself for a possible fistfight.
"These guys giving you trouble?" he said, nodding toward the two juniors. The guy holding the knife grinned and walked toward Dean.
"You planning to?" he asked, holding the knife at waist level. Dean allowed himself a moment to realize that he looked vaguely familiar, like he'd talked to him once at the store or something. Then the moment was over, and Dean didn't care if he knew the guy or not.
"Only if you make me," he replied, walking toward him. "You should probably leave these guys alone. They're harmless."
"So are we," the guy said, extending his arms in an almost welcoming fashion. "We just wanted to have some fun, is all."
"You call this fun?" Dean said scornfully, coming to a standstill a few metres away from him and evaluating the four other young men who were watching the conversation. "C'mon, man, leave these guys alone. They're harmless, but I'm not."
The guy laughed, playing with the knife and watching the blade whip through the air. Dean felt a little uneasy when he noticed how sharp it looked. He wished he'd remembered to bring his knife, but there hadn't been any signs of danger lately, so he hadn't been carrying it for the past few weeks. He was beginning to regret that decision.
"That a threat, kiddo?" the guy grinned, grip tightening slightly on the knife. Dean stood his ground and hoped like hell that Sam had done as he'd told him to and stayed in the car.
"Only if you make it," Dean replied, grinning emptily back at the guy with the knife and mentally preparing himself to fight. The guy raised one eyebrow and tilted his head slightly to the side, smiling at Dean and looking him in the eye. Then he turned around and walked back to his group and to the juniors.
"Go on," he called, laughing a little as he spoke. "Go home. Don't need you anymore." He waved the juniors off, and after exchanging confused and terrified looks, both Ronald and Madison ran out of the alleyway. The guy stood for a minute, then tilted his head to the side again as he looked at the other four guys, seeming confused.
"You too, merry men," he said to his supposed friends, gesturing to the entry of the alleyway with the hand that was holding the knife. "Off you go. Oh, and there'll be a really crappy silver car with a kid in the passenger seat on the kerb outside. Don't touch it, and don't touch him."
The other young men left more promptly than their near-victims, turning and walking away almost without a second's hesitation. Dean looked on with a small amount of gratefulness for the guy's promising Sam's safety; if this guy could get them to leave that simply and efficiently just by ordering to, he must have enough power over them for them to know not to go anywhere near Sammy. As the guy turned around, however, Dean began feeling increasingly uneasy as he approached with that smug grin still on his face. He began to walk slowly toward Dean.
"You scared, kid?" he asked, throwing the knife and catching it again by the hilt. Dean watched it cautiously, but stood his ground.
"Nah," Dean replied, grinning. "I don't need to be. You don't wanna hurt my brother, you're not gonna hurt me."
In one swift movement, the guy grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and swung him into the wall, slamming Dean's head against the bricks and making him see stars momentarily before his vision settled back to normal and he could see the guy grinning wickedly, inches away from him. Dean could feel the knife pressing into the side of his neck through the material of his collar. Some distant part of him thought that if this asshole had taken a slice at his jacket, he was gonna be furious. For the most part, however, Dean was focusing on angling his knee so it would hurt the guy like hell when it collided with his groin. He bent his leg and began to swing it forward –
"Gabriel!"
The guy jumped, startled, and turned around to face the person who'd shouted. Dean turned his head – alleged Gabriel had him pinned against the wall – and the first thing he saw was unkempt hair, a beige trench coat and wide eyes that flashed with fury even from metres away.
"Ah, Castiel," Gabriel grinned, stepping back and letting go of Dean's collar. Dean dusted himself off, looking between the two in a state of decreasing shock and growing confusion. Castiel glared at the obviously older boy, who sheathed his knife as he swaggered toward him.
"What are you trying to do, Gabriel?" Castiel growled, and though he was shorter than both of them, seeing such a usually neutral guy looking this angry made Dean feel the same kind of unease he'd felt when Gabriel had started grinning at him and playing with his knife. He couldn't figure out whether Castiel's presence was calming his nerves or making them worse.
"Just having a little fun," Gabriel said, a comically innocent expression on his face. "Your friend here started to flirt with me, I played along."
"You think I didn't notice those detours you set up?" Castiel fumed, walking toward his brother and ignoring Dean's spluttering, a reaction both to the explanation regarding the detours and to the completely random "flirting" comment. "Michael's going to know about this."
Gabriel laughed. "Chill out, little lion man," he said, throwing the knife up in the air and catching it this time by the blade. Dean winced in anticipation of the blood spurting from between Gabriel's fingers as the man grabbed the knife, but to his surprise, he didn't even wince.
"What the hell?" he exclaimed, and Gabriel turned and grinned at him, flicking the knife up and holding it by the hilt.
"Plastic, kiddo," he smirked, laughing at Dean's stunned expression. "Oh, don't look so surprised. It's meant to be convincing."
"What the hell..." Dean murmured, shaking his head in confusion. "Why would you lead me and my brother here with fake detours just to threaten me with a freakin' plastic knife? Were all those other people in on it, too?"
"Those juniors weren't," Gabriel replied, winking. "Again, the knife is pretty convincing, and my friends get just as bored as I do."
"Go home, Gabriel," Cas growled, glowering at the older boy. "You've had your fun. Leave."
Gabriel sighed, then began walking casually toward the road outside the alleyway. "Fine," he said, smirking at Castiel as he passed him. "You guys were boring me anyway." He disappeared around the corner, and Dean felt a sense of relief that he'd left, though he was still worried for Sam and hoped he hadn't gone off somewhere and had just stayed safe in the passenger seat of his trash can car. He looked from the spot Gabriel had turned the corner and disappeared to Castiel, who still looked like all he wanted to do was kick something. He tried to think of something to say to the boy who'd just saved him from what could've turned out to be a dangerous and extremely weird situation. Maybe something along the lines of, "Thankyou for stopping that really weird dude from doing whatever creepy crap he was planning to do with a plastic knife."
"I wasn't flirting with him," he blurted instead.
Castiel frowned at him, the anger leaving his face and immediately being replaced with confusion. "I know that," he said bemusedly. Dean took a second aside to wonder why the hell he'd said that of all things, then pushed it aside to make room for more demanding words.
"How did you know that guy?" he asked, walking toward Castiel. "You seem to be pretty familiar with him."
Castiel sighed heavily, averting his eyes. "He's... he's my brother," he muttered, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. It took Dean a few seconds to register the information, and even when it sunk in, he still couldn't quite understand how they could be brothers when they didn't even look remotely alike, much less act like brothers at all.
"Why did he...?" He left the sentence hanging and rubbed at his temples, trying to make sense of the entire situation. What the hell could Castiel's creepy, trickster older brother want with him? He and Cas had just barely begun talking last week, and since Thursday's study group they hadn't conversed at all. Dean had spent the entire weekend practicing for basketball and wandering the town aimlessly – and, of course, looking after Sam. He couldn't understand why anyone would want to mess with him like this just for "fun".
"It's his way of introducing himself to any friends I make," Castiel said almost sulkily, looking back to Dean. "He likes to trick them into meeting him under... unusual circumstances."
"I'll say," Dean replied, shaking his head incredulously. "Well, at least you know what he thinks of me now." He grinned awkwardly, but Castiel just stared at him, not seeming to get the humour. To be honest, Dean didn't really understand it either. He looked away and shifted uncomfortably, wanting to thank Castiel for getting his brother to leave but not wanting to make an even bigger idiot of himself. So, instead of saying anything, he nodded at Castiel and walked out of the alleyway, toward his rusty tin can of a car. To his relief, Sam was still visible in the passenger seat, and had locked all the doors and taken the keys out of the ignition. He tapped on the window, and Sam jumped violently, having been crouching quite low in his chair. He looked at Dean with wide eyes, then reached over and unlocked the door quickly. Dean opened the door and got into the car, looking Sam up and down as he did so to ensure he wasn't hurt. His heart ached a little as he saw how scared the kid was, but he couldn't let him know that, or he'd get even more terrified than he already was.
"You okay, Sammy?" he said casually, slamming the door behind him in his usual manner and grabbing his car keys from the middle compartment. Sam looked at him with wide, frightened eyes, then turned hi s eyes straight back to the road.
"Yeah," he said, his voice shaking slightly and stabbing at Dean's heart. How could he have been tricked into this stupid crap? How could he have done this to Sammy, to his little brother who wasn't supposed to be scared, because Dean would always protect him? Guilt-ridden and hating himself for letting himself and Sam get duped into a stupid and dangerous introduction to the brother of a guy Dean barely even knew, he shoved the key into the ignition and thought to himself that if he ever met Gabriel again, he would punch him in the jaw at the first chance he got, brother of a friend or not.
Author's Note: Figured I'd update a bit early, because I don't know if it was the same for you guys, but I've had a pretty crappy, drawn-out week, and if I was following this fic and hoping for an update that might pick up my mood a bit, I know I'd appreciate it if a chapter was posted a bit early – especially when it's a chapter that includes knives and detours and threatening, mildly seedy older brothers. So, here – have an early chapter!
Thanks again for all your lovely reviews and your follows – I assure you, they do not go unnoticed and they certainly don't go unappreciated! I'm writing this purely for you lot, y'know, and your support keeps me writing. Thanks again. You're all brilliant.