Earlier...
Cas had walked away from the brothers, dragging Chuck along with him. He didn't look at the scientist as he spoke, though his words were obviously directed in Chuck's direction, "I understand what kind of trouble we'll be in if this gets out, but I said it quietly enough that no one else heard it. Plus a whole town has been surrounded by the military; there are, if you want to believe it or not, other intelligent people in the world, Chuck. They will figure it out on their own and they will let the rest of the world know. Currently our lives and everyone else's lives are in danger if we don't do something about it, understand me? I don't give a shit about my job, if that's your concern then I suggest you get your priorities straight."
He wanted to say so much more to Chuck's worrying and annoying comments, though he knew that it was a bad idea to mistreat Chuck too much, after all, he was the only one with a lab in D.C. that they could possibly de-tox in. "Let's just take this one step at a time," he said casually as he let go of Chuck outside the airport. He glanced over at Dean's car and thought back to the rest stop; 'Why did he look so much worse when we stopped?' His mind swarmed different ideas but settled on none.
Chuck winced at the death grip Cas had on his arm. "Ok ok! I get it!" He whined, trying to wriggle free. "My priorities are completely straight, bomb the town, stop the experiments, and never deal with that again. Erase all of it and forget it. If we can do that, without alerting the world to the mess up, everything will be just fine."
Curiosity got the better of him and he marched over to the Impala, his eyes peering into the window as he got closer. Dread settled into his features as he saw the remnants of Dean's struggle on the seats of the car, a rather disturbing splatter pattern told him it had obviously hit Dean. 'Why didn't he tell me!' Cas thought frantically, he was about to run back inside when he saw the way the floor of the Impala had been just slightly warped, as if hit by a high-pressure blast of toxins. 'Of course, he shot it in his car... Damn it Dean!'
Chuck scuffled along after him. Chuck saw Castiel's expression before seeing the car's interior. "There's one in the backseat, isn't there?" Chuck couldn't help but think they were in some movie. If it was in the backseat, it was a little late.
Cas cautiously walked around the side of the car, hoping to God he wasn't going to see what he expected to. Judging by the pool of blood on the floor of the Impala, the corpse had been there for a while. Which meant that Dean only booted it out recently. Luckily, he wasn't stupid enough to bring it all the way into the next town.
Chuck peered into the car –maybe it wasn't late after all. The toxin splatters concerned him. "If Dean was hit by that, and he was still sane by the time we arrived in this town, he's not going to lose his mind, that happens pretty quickly. He should be ok."
"Oh my god!" Chuck threw his arms up in the air with defeat. "If your men don't make it to that body before one of the many truck drivers called it in to a hospital, then we're screwed! That's it, the world is over!" Chuck dropped his arms in an over dramatic fashion to his sides.
Cas breathed a sigh of relief, though he knew where the corpse was now, at the rest stop. He pulled out his army-issued cell and called headquarters again, informing them of the possible contamination site.
After his relatively un-fun conversation, he hung up and slowly turned to look at Chuck, "Okay, get in the truck we have to get to your lab, pronto. Dean's been in his car with a mutated corpse for an extended period of time," he wasn't sure what to do now, what were the odds that Dean had an immunity to this thing? Not terribly high. "I'll be right back." He booked it into the airport, looking for Dean and Sam.
"Yes sir, captain sir." Chuck hopped into the back seat of the truck and awaited Castiel's return.
"You want to get Castiel? Wait, a hospital? Sam, what's going on? What's wrong with me?" Before Dean could get an answer out of Sam, there was a loud knocking at the door. Dean jumped, startled and his nerves were completely fried. He raised a hand to his chest to try and calm himself, and turned his back away from the door.
"Dean?" Castiel's voice rang through the door, "Dean are you in there?"
"Castel? Yeah, I'm here." What perfect timing.
"Yeah," Sam called back as well, also startled by the sudden knocking, "We're in here."
Cas wasn't sure he wanted to ask why they were in a bathroom together, it was either hilarious, something mutated related, or just plain wrong. "Let me in."
Sam glanced at Dean, figuring it was okay to let his soldier lover into the room and opened the door. For anyone watching, the image of three men cramming into a bathroom was one they wouldn't soon forget.
Dean was hesitant at Castiel's prompt to let them in, but Sam seemed to think it a good idea. The last time Dean saw Castiel tangle with an infected, it was his own officer –someone he had worked with before. Cas didn't even check for infection before blowing the man's head open. Dean was worried when Castiel entered the bathroom. Dean shifted, trying to keep his back out of sight from Castiel, but to no avail. Cas turned him around to take a look, and became immediately disheartened.
Cas gently, though firmly, turned him around and lifted his shirt. He felt a wave of sorrow hit him as he watched the black veins and disturbing movement in Dean's back. He let go of the older Winchester and slid his hand down his face in thoughtful frustration, "Why didn't you tell me?" His gravelly voice sounded strained as he spoke.
"Is there a cure?" Sam asked hopefully.
"We just made the goddamn virus!" Cas shouted, though it wasn't a violent outburst. "We couldn't have possibly..." he trailed off and leaned against the nearest wall, his head lowered as he tried to think of something, "I don't know... Chuck said something about a lab in D.C. If we can make it there, then maybe..." He looked at Dean, his blue eyes searching for some kind of answer. "We need to leave."
Dean panicked, the strain in Castiel's voice and his frustrated expression set off Dean's 'hostile environment' alarms. "I'm so sorry, Castiel," Dean's voice dropped to pleading instantaneously. "Please don't be mad at me, and didn't want this. I didn't do it on purpose, I swear!" Dean knew there was no way he could've done it on purpose, but he didn't want Castiel to be mad with him. "I didn't tell you because... because I thought' you'd kill me." Dean's eyes were watering while keeping eye contact with Castiel. Dean desperately wanted a chance with Castiel, and this virus thing may very well have blown that chance to bits, blown his entire future to bits.
All of the talk of lab's and no cure only increased the mental terrors Dean was putting himself through. So what if they went to a hospital? They wouldn't know what to do. Hell, they'd probably drag the military in. There'd be nothing Castiel could do when his superior officers took Dean away as a test subject. Dean was probably one of their only surviving specimens, depending on what they were doing to the town. Images of sterile white rooms, needles and other medical equipment flashed through Dean's mind as he envisioned a future as a science lab rat. Alone.
Dean was about to break down in tears when Castiel held him tight. Surprised but happy, Dean clung to him like Castiel was his last hope in the world. This time Castiel didn't let go too soon, he held on and whispered in Dean's ear, "I'm sorry; I promised you something and failed in the first few hours. I hope you can forgive me." He closed his eyes and remembered Dean's face in the diner, the way he spoke sounded like he'd fall into millions of tears, leaving nothing behind him. He would have given Dean the world if he'd had it, just to save that fading smile.
"I will protect you. Please, let me save you."
The relief that washed over Dean's features after he said that was more than enough for him, the plethora of new expressions and looks he got out of Dean were bonuses. He felt like he'd betrayed all of that, he hadn't kept his promise. He even dragged Dean out there with him to sector 5; it was his fault Dean was infected in the first place. He clenched his jaw, trying his hardest to stay focused, but he couldn't stop at least two tears that slid down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry..." he mumbled almost incoherently.
Dean forced himself to speak despite his mounting emotional strains, "Don't say that," he sobbed, "Don't apologize yet –it sounds like..." Dean's voice caught and he took a moment to get out the rest of it. "...like you've given up on me. I'll forgive you for failing, but never for quitting."
Castiel's phone rang. The two exchanged glances, Castiel's was apologetic, Dean's was begging him not to go. With Castiel's parting excusal, Dean hugged Sam tight, burying his face in his brother's chest. "What do I do? Sammy..."
Sam placed his arms around his brother and rested his head on top of Dean's, "Don't worry, Dean. It'll be okay; I'll never let anyone treat you like that again. And don't start thinking like you're the older brother and you take care of me and all that crap. We're family, we take care of one another, it's a mutual thing. Don't take it all on yourself, I can help you too." He was whispering as he listened to Cas' distressed tone, he could tell that the soldier was in a tight spot. Cas clearly cared about Dean, though he had a tough time showing it properly, just like their dad. Sam wished he could show Dean Cas' intentions, though he figured it'd be clearer later on.
He flipped the phone open, "Hello?... Yes, that was me. Yes. ...I understand sir. ...No sir, just a scientist and a civilian. ... ... Chuck-... Yes, that scientist. ... Dean Winchester... Yes sir, Winchester..." Cas glanced over at the bathroom that Sam had been casually holding open to listen in. "Excuse me sir? No I... What? You can't-!" he stopped, his brow furrowed, "With all due respect, sir, we've already seen the results of this endeavour. Please, shut it down." Cas' tone was hard to place, he was trying to be respectful but shoot down someone's idea at the same time. Judging from all the 'sirs' Sam figured it was a superior officer. "What is it even accomplishing! Sir!" He growled as he pulled the phone away from his ear, apparently having been hung up on.
Castiel didn't say anything after closing his phone, just motioned for the brothers to follow him out. Dean couldn't help but think he was angry with them, with him.
Sam gave Dean a reassuring smile and pat on the shoulder, "You'll be okay," he whispered as they followed Castiel to the parking lot. Dean quickly grabbed his shirt and fumbled to put it back on, followed by his jacket. Falling in step beside his brother, Dean followed Castiel back out to his truck, where the soldier opened the door for Chuck to listen as well.
"That was headquarters, they're bombing the town."
"What!" Sam shouted, "But you said-"
"It doesn't matter what I said, it isn't my decision to make."
'Bombing the town? So I will be the only living infected person. Fantastic. Well at least they're not-'
"They're also continuing the experiments in different facilities..." He glanced at Chuck for a moment before looking back to the Winchesters, "There are two other sectors being set up by each one, though I suspect they won't fare any better than we did. Even after I gave them the short list of who survived, Dean and Chuck, they still wanted to continue it..." he sighed heavily, "I'm not sure what to do, but right now I want to get Dean to Chuck's lab. Considering the situation, I'd like it if Dean came with me, Sam and Chuck in the Impala. Any objections?" he did his best to sound like he was confident in his choice, though he was really concerned for Dean. However, showing someone how worried you are doesn't calm them down any, and worrying them further wouldn't help slow the toxins down either.
Dean's heart sank. If this were anything like the movies then when they found out Dean survived the mutation with his mental faculties intact, they'd want to study him. Better yet, they'd simply want to erase their mistakes. If it got out, they'd be in a load of trouble, and Dean was just one inconsequential life. "Oh god."
"Are you sure getting to the lab is a good idea?" Dean asked Castiel, honestly concerned. "What if they turn me over to one of the new sectors? Or kill me? I don't want to go."
Dean sorely wished that Chuck would do something idiotic so he could yell at him again, that seemed to be the only time he was able to pull himself together. The rest of it was pain from the past, fear of the future, and general sadness. Just how weak had he let himself become? Every word from Castiel made him blush, every thought of danger rooted fear into his bones, and the thought of abandonment made him cry. It was a miracle that they were putting up with him. At least Chuck was honest. Even though he knew about this, every time a situation came up where he had an opportunity to change it, Dean's emotions took over and he couldn't begin to think from the outside about piecing himself together, just from the inside of what would happen to him next; but he was trying.
Cas had rambled off a bunch of things that he figured they needed to do, not noticing how Dean was feeling. He was more concerned with saving him than caring for him, which suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks when he saw how scared Dean was in his presence. 'Thought I would kill him?' Cas' mind flooded back to when he shot his commander in cold blood back at sector five. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face again. The sound of Dean's voice, pleading and begging, as if hewere the one who had beaten him all these years.
He took Dean in his arms again and rubbed the back of his head, "I will never quit on you, never. I want to keep you safe and while doing that I lost sight of my goal." He pulled his head away to look Dean in the eye, tired of seeing that scared, sad expression. "I will take care of you; I want to be with you, Dean." At this moment he wasn't paying terribly close attention to Sam or Chuck, "Don't be scared of me, I would never hurt you on purpose, I swear." He leaned forward and gave Dean a gentle kiss on the lips, "I know you're scared," he whispered, "But nothing will take you from me, nothing. I don't care what I have to do."
Dean had realized a while back what Castiel's intentions were, but he just couldn't let himself believe it. Every action the soldier took, the concern he showed, and all those little tell-tale things he said. Nothing would take Dean from Castiel. The notion itself implies that Castiel already has Dean, and as far as Dean was concerned: that was just fine. It was more than fine, the thought of Castiel accepting him, being everything Dean needed –and wanting to do it too, it was all too good to be true. And then there were the kisses. Before they were like the ones you would give children, a kiss on the top of the head or a peck on the cheek. This time was different; Castiel kissed Dean on the lips. It was short and gentle, but it was still a kiss. It brought a sparkle to Dean's widening eyes as his cheeks broke out into yet another shade of pink. At the base of Dean's neck, the encroaching black veins were making claim to new territory. A few of the far reaching tips were visible just below Dean's jaw line.
"And I don't want Sam in the Impala, if those fumes are still lingering I don't want to chance my brother getting infected too."
"Are you both stupid?" Chuck interjected. "We're in a hurry, right?" And we're going a long way out to D.C., right? And we're AT A FREAKING AIRPORT!" Chuck's face remained in a comedic angry expression for several seconds after his outburst. "So why don't we just get on a plane, and fly there, hm?"
The discussions about the vehicles and who would sit where was a bit of a problem in Cas' head, he didn't want anyone exposed to that toxin longer than they had to be, but Dean's care was important. Chuck's outburst was comical and gave him a slap in the face, they were at an airport and they were talking about driving to D.C... Cas smacked his forehead and slid his hand down his face, "Oh for the love of..." he mumbled, "Okay, yeah... Let's get on a plane then."
Chuck continued, his expression changing very little, "We can come back for your precious vehicles later. They are not our priority, Dean's life is. And our safety, in the event that he hulks out or something. OH!" Chuck just made a discovery.
"Are you going to share with the class, Einstein?" Dean asked, a little bit annoyed with Chuck's bi-polar tendencies.
"You're unhealthy," Chuck pointed out to Dean matter-of-factly.
"So?"
"So that's why you're not handling this well. If your immune system were in peak condition, you probably had a pretty good chance of fighting off the infection, but you're sickly. You look hollowed out and stressed. It probably lowered your internal defences. If you really didn't want to go, then there's a possibility that you could get better with time and rest and some close monitoring. Let's get on a plane already." Chuck grabbed his briefcase and bounded back toward the airport terminals.
Chuck's sudden epiphany about Dean's health gave Castiel a burst of hope and determination, all Dean needed was a good amount of rest, love, and affection. He could supply that no problem, "Sounds great," he smiled that toothy smile of his, the confidence returning fully to his voice and posture. "I'm pumped, let's go." He took Dean's hand and started walking, he had more than enough government funds on him to pay for their flight, even enough to do it first class.
Dean shot a look at Sam, "I hate flying."
"You don't like flying?" he looked at Dean's face as they stood in the terminal, "Why not? It's incredible. You're up in the air, shooting high above everyone else, going unbelievably fast." He leaned over and kissed Dean's cheek, "Or is it the thought of crashing that you hate? Tell you what, if the plane starts going down, and we're certain we're gonna die, you and I will do it right in our seats. Sound like a plan?" He couldn't help the smile that had taken over his features. Dean was adorable, and Cas hoped he could show him the right amount of affection, or even a fraction of what he was starting to feel for him.
"Yeah I hate flying. You have no control of anything up there. If you start going down, it's over. I'd prefer to be the drive of my own car." Dean fidgeted anxiously in line, humming Metallica to calm himself. And then he caught what Castiel had said. "If we're certain we're going to crash, you wanna do what?" The just shy of trademark blush planted itself back on Dean's face when he turned to Castiel, shocked and excited at the thought of it.
"That's right," Chuck replied, "Who's the genius? Master Chuck! Now let's get on that plane. With our luck, it's leaving in ten minutes." Chuck paused and looked at Cas and Dean, "We're going to need to disarm you..." Their weaponry would not make it into airport security. Chuck was amazed that they had been able to meet up with Sam without being jumped. Castiel had a freaking rifle.
They had nestled into their seats after about a hour of waiting, Sam pat Dean's shoulder again for reassurance, "It's just a plane, nothing to worry about Dean. We're all here with you." He sat down and began to thoroughly enjoy the leg room.
"Oh my god, first class!" Chuck was stoked. For some reason, unless you were an ambassador or political figure, the government always sent you airfare via coach. First class was going to be awesome. Chuck trotted down the aisle and took an aisle seat so he'd have a better view of the in-flight movie. "I wonder what they're going to be showing? I bet it's better than regular seating."
Dean could hardly believe anyone could be that excited about a plane ride. "He's insane," Dean muttered to no one in particular.
Cas gripped Dean's hand to comfort him, still smiling. Eventually the plane took off and Cas' inner mechanisms told him he was as safe as he could get, better get a few Z's. It didn't take long, his eyes were closed and he dozed off, his head slumping to the side and falling on Dean's shoulder.
Dean was so focused on keeping himself calm that he was startled when Castiel's head made contact with his shoulder. His immediate thought was 'Oh god, he's dead,' but quickly realized from Castiel's softened and peaceful expression that he must be sleeping. Dean sighed and relaxed a bit.
Sam cooed a sarcastic "Awwww" at the sight, giving Dean a smirk. "Your soldier lover's so cute, sleeping on you like that." He was trying to tease Dean to make him feel better.
"He's not my lover yet, but we're working on that," Dean joked back, trying to reassure both himself and Sam that he was doing ok. "Thanks Sammy." Dean watched his brother relaxed, and was grateful for him that they were riding first class. Those gargantuan legs would have never fit into regular seats. Baffled that the two of them could sleep, Dean doubted he would be able to get comfortable enough –or calm down enough, to do the same.
God knows he needed the sleep. After the waiting in the airport, the travelling from town to town, the escaping from sector 5, running into a soldier in a diner, getting the hell beat out of him, and working his shift at the bar Dean was done. He'd barely eaten anything in the last 48 hours, and he definitely hadn't slept in that time either. Chuck's explanation of his worsening condition made a whole lot of sense, both in the macro and the micro. As tired as he was, the plane still scared the crap out of him. After two failed attempts where the slight turbulence jostled him awake and into a panic, Dean gave up and assumed a zombie-like fixation on the television.
What Chuck had said comforted Sam as well, if rest was all Dean needed then to hell with the labs and shit, just get him to a soft bed and feed him chicken noodle soup or something. Sam snuggled into his seat as well and just closed his eyes to rest them, his mind wandered to the exam he should have been writing that day. After a moment he realized that he was much more satisfied with what he was doing now, being with his brother was more important than writing an exam. He was glad he realized that before it was too late.
