Disclaimer – I don't own any of the characters, nor do I profit from this writing. It's purely for my own and other's enjoyment.
Author's Note: I haven't updated in forever, so I made an extra long chapter! Enjoy :)
It turns out, the two brothers had been keeping Dean in a spare bedroom under the night club Gabriel ran. Apparently they lived down there, too. It was a lot bigger than Dean had thought, and even extended down a few levels. When Dean asked why, Gabriel simply shrugged and told him that's where they'd always lived.
The first place Gabe took him was to a room down one level, filled with shelves and filing cabinets, and three computers off to the side. It was sort of cluttered in most places, though looked as if once it used to be tidy.
"This is where you do your research, huh?" he asked, walking over to examine one of the computers. It had some sort of program running out weather reports.
"This is where you will be helping us do research," Gabriel corrected as he grinned, flopping down into one of the other chairs. He switched on the computer next to the weather one, immediately opening up to a document written in something Dean couldn't identify. Apparently Gabriel could read it just fine, because after scanning the text for a few seconds, he let out a small 'hmm' and closed it.
"Right. And what exactly are you doing? How do you track down a-," Dean's voice caught slightly, "Demon?"
It was still kind of a hard concept to accept.
"Hold on a sec, Dean-o. Important business to take care of. Cassy will be down in a minute, he'll explain it all," Gabriel yawned as he stood, stretching his arms lazily. Dean's eyes darkened slightly at the mention of Castiel, and Gabriel seemed to notice it.
"Oh, don't mope. You know he did it for your 'well being' or whatever. Ugh, you two are disgusting," the last part came out quieter, and Dean scowled. What was that supposed to mean?
"He could have talked to me instead of knocking me out!"
"I'm sorry, Dean. In my defense, you weren't listening to anything I was saying."
The familiar voice caused Dean to whirl around, only to see Cas standing in the doorway. He was still in his apparently constant get-up of a suit and trenchcoat. On anyone else, Dean would say it looked tacky, but something about the way the coat hung off Cas's delicate shoulders was tantalizing.
Did he seriously just think that? God, he really had to get over his stupid attraction to this guy. Castiel had basically kidnapped him – using some crazy, admittedly creepy powers that Dean still wasn't sure how he'd gotten – and locked him away like fucking Cinderella.
But those eyes… Dean was really far gone. He despised himself for it. How the hell could he still find him hot? How could his mind conjure up images of slowly pulling away that stupid tenchcoat, or pressing the other man up against a wall, or- Ok, no, thought trail stopping there. It was borderline obsession.
Making a conscious effort to ignore those feelings, Dean let out a derisive snort.
"Oh, he isn't listening, better knock him out and lock him up in my basement," he growled sarcastically. Gabriel let out a laugh, but shut up once Cas turned his glare on his brother.
"Right, right, I'm going. You two work out your little issues, ok?" Gabriel sniggered, sauntering out the door and letting it slam behind him.
Cas let out a sigh, stiffly walked over to sit in the chair furthest from Dean, and leaned back against it as if he were exhausted. The circles under his eyes certainly didn't help. His movements seemed weary, like he had been dragging more weight than he could carry. And damn, did Dean know what that felt like. He felt a tiny flash of sympathy, though not enough to completely rid him of anger. It would take a bit more than that.
"I am sorry, Dean," Cas eventually sighed, gaze flicking up to meet Dean's. Seriously, his gorgeous eyes should be illegal. Dean found he couldn't breathe as he lost himself in the deep, hardened, blue pools. His anger suddenly disappeared a lot faster, and was replaced by a different sort of burning in his chest, one that he had to violently shove away again.
"Whatever, Cas, it's not that big of a deal," he finally sighed, dragging his gaze away. "Let's just work on finding Azazel, ok?"
"You call me Cas," was the other man's reply.
Dean felt a slight blush rise up his cheeks, and internally snarled at it to go away. "Well, yeah, Castiel is a bit of a mouthful, so I thought I'd call you that instead. Is that… Ok?" he almost winced at the explanation. To be honest, the nickname had just sorta come to him.
"Yes, I… I don't mind. It is much better than Cassy."
Dean chuckled, glancing back at Cas, who – Dean didn't even know he was capable of it – had a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips. They stared at each other for a moment, before Dean cleared his voice and gestured at the computer.
"Right, we should, uh, get researching, I guess," he suggested. Cas blinked once, slowly, before nodding in agreement and turning to his own screen.
"Yes. The quicker we catch Azazel, the better for everyone."
For the next two weeks, Dean spent all his waking time helping the brothers search for their demon. They had a lot of interesting technology (most of which, Dean was positive wasn't legal in the United States), but even then they didn't catch a lot of leads.
For the first week the brother's didn't even let Dean go out and help with the few leads they did find. It caused quite the fight between the three of them, which ended in several thrown punches and Dean nearly being knocked out again. Eventually he convinced them he wasn't going to leave, and Castiel agreed he could go, as long as one of them went with him.
Dean was still pissy about it for another two days, but eventually got over it when Cas had walked in the next day without his trenchcoat. He'd been stunned by the attractive hug of the flannel shirt the other man wore. And, though Cas raved about Gabriel stealing his stuff the whole time they worked, Dean quite enjoyed himself. He found he didn't even mind at all.
Still, questions of what the two brothers were nagged at the back of Dean's mind, so he decided to sneak into the computer room one night to do a little extra research of his own. He sat in the dark room alone, alert to any sound outside, in case Gabe or Cas walked in on him. He didn't have a whole lot to go on so he started with the basics – their names. There really wasn't a whole lot. He learned they were religious names of angels, and then had to look deeper into religious history.
The possibility of them actually being the angels crossed Dean's mind, but didn't last long upon further inspection. He really doubted Gabriel, who owned a club and was fond of popping candy when he thought no-one was looking, could be capable of otherworldly duties, let alone be an archangel. Maybe Cas seemed a little more heavenly, but then again, Dean was finding that most things the other man did seemed heavenly to him. However, believing in angels would also mean believing in God, and Dean didn't think either was possible. He'd learned every single time something may seem better, it would always be worse. No reason for that to change now.
So, more likely, they were some sort of creature into hunting demons for some reason, and named themselves after heavenly figures. Maybe they had a whole cult going on, who knew – "Heavenly Deities Brewing Champagne and Demon Hunting since '87!"
Dean stayed up for a long time that night, trying to find anything illuminating, but nothing added up anywhere. He even did look deeper into the angels bit – he had to check out everything, even the improbable – but nothing there related to the brothers, either. Neither of them fit the description of 'beings of pure light, draped in the finest silk cloth, with two wings resting on their back' (though the mental image of Gabriel in a toga did have Dean sniggering to himself).
Eventually he gave up, and decided he'd have to keep pestering them about it if he wanted any answers.
Within the next three days, a new lead finally popped up, and Castiel reluctantly allowed Dean to come with him on this one. They'd pinpointed some odd activity going on in a shop nearby and decided to check out if it was the work of demons, or just some really friggin' weird people.
Originally, Cas refused to let Dean come – "Azazel's looking for you, Dean, what do you think he's going to do if he gets you?" – but Dean's argument was too well fought, to the point even Gabriel had to agree with it.
"If he's looking for me, he'll probably make sure the demons know who I am, or even show himself," Dean pointed out. Gabriel had nodded his head in agreement, and despite Cas's moping, they came to an agreement – Dean could come if Castiel went with him.
And that was how the two ended up outside a taxidermy shop on Friday night, just after closing hours. It was creepy enough on the outside alone, almost to the point of being too obvious.
"What, a bright neon sign screaming 'this is where demon's live!' wasn't good enough for them?" Dean muttered, his left hand resting on the base of the gun he had tucked into his belt.
Cas glanced over at him, either not catching the humor, or too into his serious mode to appreciate it. "This could very easily be a trap, Dean," he said in his deep, gravelly undertone (that still sent chills up Dean's spine).
"Great. Let's go say hello, then," Dean huffed, a little tiredly, as he walked up to knock on the door.
For a moment, there was only silence, and then the lock on the door clicked. A gruff, older looking guy swung the door out a few inches and peered through the crack.
"Can't yeh read?" he growled out. "We're closed."
Dean straightened slightly, giving the man his widest smile. "Yes, sorry to bother you. It's just, I saw that piece of work in your window, and I couldn't help admiring the finery of it."
Well, that was a blatant lie. The taxidermy was not by any standards the best Dean'd seen, especially not with those creepy plastic eyes jutting out further than they should be. He'd become an incredibly liar.
Without missing a beat, he continued, "I'd be willing to pay a hefty sum of money if you have something I'm looking for."
The man looked him up and down, slowly, then over at Castiel as well. Something like greed glinted in his eyes, and he slowly let the door swing all the way open.
"I guess I can make one exception for yeh," he said slowly.
"Great, thank you," Dean smiled as he stepped into the store, despite the morbid feeling. The guy was just a tad taller than him, and had messy grey hair and a beard to match. He was wearing ripped jeans and several layers of tops, all neutral colours or plaid. Basically how someone would expect an old taxidermy creator to look.
"What exactly are you looking for?" the man asked gruffly as Dean and Cas filed in. His dark haired companion hadn't said a word so far, and instead was staring intently around the shop, apparently looking for something. Dean was just trying to keep the owner preoccupied.
He began walking around the perimeter of the shop, pretending to admire different pieces of stuffed animal. Somehow, this guy had made every single piece look warped and unnatural. Even the small squirrel that glared down at him with beady eyes and bared teeth looked evil. It was really off-putting.
"I think maybe I like this one," Dean eventually said, bending down to examine a moose head, before turning and realizing he should have payed more attention to the store keeper.
The old man had a fist in Castiel's hair, and a knife sitting at his throat. Behind him, another older lady had appeared, along with a dark skinned younger guy. All of them had coal black eyes.
Dean cleared his throat, trying to push down his sudden fear.
"If you don't want your friend to die, I suggest you hand over the gun under your coat," the lady spoke calmly, but her voice was cold. Dean kept his eyes on Cas, who looked oddly calm for his position.
"Now," the old man demanded, and pressed the knife a little closer to his friend's throat.
"Ok, ok! Here," Dean swiftly grabbed the gun and set it down on the ground, holding his hands up next to his head in a motion of surrender. His heart was beating quickly in his chest, but his voice came out oddly calm.
"Now turn around," the lady demanded. Dean's eyes flicked to Cas's, widening slightly. Cas stared back, his deep blue eyes still holding a calming light. Very slowly, he nodded.
Dean swallowed thickly and did what they asked, slowly turning so he couldn't see what was happening. He could hear one of them approaching him, though, and anticipated the voice behind him.
"I hope you've been a good man," the demon growled at him, and did something Dean hadn't expect at all. An agonizing pain dug into the left side of his back, and a scream was drawn from his lips as the demon twisted it, until stars flew before Dean's eyes and he felt himself falling steadily into darkness.
The last thing he heard before he was lost to the darkness was Cas screaming his name.
