Any and all mistakes are my own, this is unbeta'd so any errors I apologize for.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, I'm only borrowing the characters for a bit for my own amusement, love to know what you think, and the title is only 'cause I couldn't think of one, therefore its subject to change sometime in the future.
Warnings: References to torture, M/M pairing, possible future mpreg.
Note: I'd like to thank Carmichaelcarr for reviewing the last chapter, I was feeling a little down about this fic and then your review dropped in my inbox and reminded me part of why I publish this story. As to the other reviewers:
pappy: Nope Dean is as he is in the show, why would you think he's a girl in this?
Anonymous: Why don't you try actually reading this fic first before passing judgement? Then maybe you'd notice there's no hints as to who is going to be the pregnant party, since they haven't even kissed yet let alone done anything else. If this isn't your type of thing - why click on it? And yes I'm a Jensen fan - But I'm also equally a Misha and Jared fan. Don't try to pass sweeping judgements on fics, its fairly pointless. But on the other hand if you have CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, then go ahead and review, otherwise save us both the bother. I'd discuss this more but I want the others who enjoy this to actually get reading, if you want to talk on this more, feel free to message me.
Chapter Seven - Realisation
Lunging past Dean and placing his arms out wide to protect him, Castiel made a grab for the angel blade that usually resided in the pocket inside of his trenchcoat, spun around expertly and stabbed the hellhound, injuring it severely before Dean even had the time to process half of what had just happened before his eyes.
"Dean" Castiel hissed, before getting a lack of an answer, causing him to hiss again even more vehemently and shaking him slightly, "Dean!" This seemed to snap the charge out of whatever trance he had been in.
"We need to move." Dean bit out, looking for strategies to give them the upper hand in this battle, the hunter in his mind taking over before he realised, "I need weapons Cas, I need to get the Impala, it's in Bobby's garage. If you make a distraction or something, I'll go get them and gear up, take out as many as I can on the way back." Dean finished, making a move towards the garage before Castiel grabbed his arm and forcefully moved him under better cover.
"You can't Dean, it's too dangerous! You can't see hellhounds and we don't know how many were outnumbered-" Castiel got out before he was spoken over.
"Yeah but it's our best shot! Look I don't like this anymore than you do but it's the best plan we've got right now. You're a soldier Cas, you know this is our best shot as well as I do!" Dean bit out, looking around and hoping that no demons had seen them yet, the element of surprise was the only advantage they could count on in such a tenuous situation like that they were in now.
Castiel didn't like it. He didn't like it and he didn't agree with it, but even he had to admit that this was the best plan open to them right now. If he had been able to access the entirety of his angelic abilities he might have possibly felt almost comfortable with this plan, as he knew he would have been able to neutralize the problem before Dean ever got back from the garage. The problem was that he knew he couldn't use them, not unless the situation was dire enough to call for it, but of course he couldn't tell Dean that. So nodding his acquiescence to the plan he moved from behind the shell of the Prius they were hiding behind, ready to tackle this latest battle head on, and hoping that they could get out of it as relatively unscathed as was possible for a Winchester battle.
Dean noticed the exact moment that the angel agreed with him. It was something in his eyes, steeliness seemed to seep over the blue, making them appear to have a hard glint to them, and reminding him of the angel that had threatened to throw him back into the pit back in what seemed like so long ago. He hardly saw signs of that angel anymore, the one that was purely soldier, except in times of battle, like this. When Castiel moved from behind the Prius ready to face whatever was out there head on, Dean began darting between the scrap cars on his way to the garage, while all the time listening out for anything that could be out there ready to catch him unawares, whether it be a demon or a hellhound. Along the way he prayed to Gabriel to get his feathery ass down here pronto and help them, as it was probably to do with him that they were in this mess in the first place, but whether or not he was heard by him he didn't know. Making one last sprint, Dean reached the doors of the garage, where he quickly slipped inside and rushed to the boot of his baby for his weapons which could mean the difference between winning this battle, or losing it.
-SPN-
Castiel was worried about Dean. He knew he shouldn't be, that he knew as any soldier knows you need to have your attention focused completely on your target as distractions can be the failure of you, but he couldn't help it. Dean was his responsibility, and right now he wasn't working as he usually would, he was still stiff from his wounds, getting over his fever, either one of these things could mean death for a normal hunter, but both of them? That's when Castiel decided to have faith in his brother, and his father. Dean Winchester was very far from ordinary, and he was on the side of the angels. With Heaven backing him, Castiel knew that their best chance of winning this would be for them to both remain focused. And with that, he charged into the fray, ready to sneak up upon the first demon he had in his sights, and take them out one by one.
-SPN-
Dean moved into the heart of the garage with a swiftness born from years on the road having to make a quick getaway with his Dad and Sam. Swerving around the side of the Impala to get to the boot, he opened it hurriedly and looked about the cluttered mess, while a calm detached voice in the back of his mind mused, "I'll have to clean this out sometime, Dad always did hate a mess" just as he went to reach for the holy water and his favorite shotgun. However upon hearing the creak of the door which was as loud as a gunshot in the silent garage, Dean's whole body stiffened. He knew that this wasn't Castiel, he could feel the difference, and that only left him with one other option. A demon.
Turning around quickly and tightening both of his hands into fists - one to conceal the miniature flask of holy water he was almost crushing in his palm, the other to stop his hand from shaking, Dean attempted a nonchalant air when he replied to said intruder, "You could've at least knocked first before entering, you know, there are these things called manners," While looking the demon up and down, contempt clear in his eyes he finished, "But then again, this is you I'm talking about here Meg. Whole demon thing aside I don't think you'd know good manners even if they came up and bit you on the ass." He finished, hoping to goad the demon closer to him, and then he'd have her.
"Oh, Dean, Dean, Dean. I know you've missed me really," She replied easily, however the look in her eyes told him that goading her might not have been the best plan that he'd ever had, as even he had to admit that the demon looked angry enough already as she started to sidestep around him in the garage, and therefore also around the demon trap drawn slightly ahead of him on the ceiling. Dean inwardly cursed, but he still had his back-up plan he reminded himself mentally, hoping it would be enough.
"But still, not as much as I know you must have missed our teacher." She spat out vehemently, before stopping to stand still in the garage that suddenly felt to Dean as if it had dropped a couple of degrees. He also felt the colour drain slightly from his face at the mention of Alastair. Quickly covering the almost imperceptible slip in his armour, Dean placed the walls back up and tried to keep up his false jovial tone from earlier as Meg edged closer to him,
"Yeah well, all things come to an end, even demons as strong as Alastair it would seem. Sam went and took care of that, just like I'll take care of you, have fun in hell bitch!" He finished, throwing the holy water into the demons face before he started chanting,
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, " He started, only to be interrupted, "You might-" She bit out before he continued, "omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio," The demon screamed in fury before once again trying to talk to the hunter, "Listen to me jackass otherwise-" Dean grabbed his favorite shotgun and placed it in the direction Meg was trying to move towards before shooting, "infernalis adversarii, omnis legio," He was just about to finish the last section of the exorcism when the words died in his mouth at the sentence the slippery demon now almost in front of him managed to complete, "He'll bring him back, our teacher dearest Dean, he's coming back and he'll just love to get reacquainted with you!" She finished, and stopped trying to come closer, seeing that her goading had worked in holding the hunter up short - for the time being at least anyway.
"And I think you and I both know the particular type of punishment he'll have in mind for you, don't we?" She goaded in Dean's general direction as she slithered around him in a circle like a cat stalking its prey. They had moved away from the Impala during some part of their exchange, "I'm sure you have the remember everything of what must just be lovely memories from Hell still, don't you Dean?"
"That's not possible!" Dean spluttered out, eyes on Meg's form but mind very much not present, instead lingering on moments he would rather forget from the pit. Mentally shaking himself, Dean forcefully pulled himself together once more before stating more confidently than he felt, "Alastair is gone. What Sam did to him there's no coming back from, not then, not now, not ever. You're just bluffing." He finished, voice sounding a lot more secure in this notion that his mind believed in reality.
"You really do think that, don't you Dean? Well let me tell you something then. Our new leader isn't just strong, he's also strong enough to bring a demon back from the dead, and he'll do it, just to get back at you even if he finds Alastair's talents... distasteful. Seems you've made yourself a powerful enemy there." She finished quirking her eyebrow at him with a playful expression painting her features, "It's only a matter of when now, not if." She finished.
And that's when Dean prepared himself to be ready to strike.
-SPN-
Castiel wasn't faring much better.
Having managed to disable several demons with his angel sword and an old Enochian exorcism so far, he currently found himself surrounded by a pack of hellhounds. Just as he was ready to strike, a voice he recognized immediately spoke to him,
"Well, well, well my pretties, look what we have here?" The charismatic voice of their owner called, and the demon that Dean and Castiel had been hoping to find and talk with, just preferably not in this situation continued, "If it isn't the Angel of Thursday. Really isn't your day now is it?" He quipped, looking amused with himself for saying this fact on a Wednesday.
"If you and the rest of the demons present do not vacate the property immediately, there are no assurances that any of you will exit here alive." Castiel spoke in a calm, collected manner attached to that of a well trained and experienced soldier of God.
"Yeah well, see the thing here is Cassie, I think you're all talk and no action," at this point he looked the angel up and down before continuing, "Scratch that, I know you're all talk and no action. Having a little grace problem there are we angel?" He finished with a smug smile on his face for having sensed it.
Castiel didn't know what to say to that. The fact that the demon knew he was blocked from accessing his grace was disconcerting, but that also left him with the option of surprise if the necessity arose, since Crowley could sense the block placed on him by Gabriel, but not the fact that he was allowed to access a certain amount of grace, that left him at an advantage. Only a slight one, but an advantage all the same, something which could come in handy later and give him the slight advantage that could mean all or nothing. Life or death.
"Tell me angel, what's it feel like to be neutered like a dog? After all you are a certain someone's bitch now aren't you?" With that Crowley jerked his head in the direction of where Dean had gone to earlier, before continuing, "Wonder what the older Winchester thinks about his all-powerful angel being reduced to practically another defenseless human." With this last parting shot Castiel's eyes snapped to that of the demon, before he spoke clearly in the uncaring voice he had had when he'd first walked the earth,
"What Dean Winchester does or does not think is of little circumstance to me. I am not anybodies 'bitch' Crowley. Enough of these games, you're working with someone, who is it?"
"Well, since you asked so nicely, I'll give you a little hint. He's powerful, more powerful than you that's for sure. And he has a score to settle with both you and with your little friend over there. In fact I hear he has big plans for him. Plans to take that denim clad buffoon and eject him into the pit, so far and so deep that nothing and most importantly nobody, not even you will be able to save him. I may have rearranged hell, but this guy? He's convinced me that it might be a good idea to have a little section cleared out for his little guest. He'll be supplying the friend to keep Dean-y boy company down there, in fact I believe you met him once down there before too, didn't you?"
Castiel could barely think, all he knew was that a foreign emotion had surged up inside him, one that said he had to find and protect Dean at all costs this minute, that he couldn't be parted from him, not for a moment, he couldn't allow him to be taken back down there by whoever Crowley was working for. He was just about to deal with the noxious demon before him when he felt it.
The air around him shifting minutely, something he wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't in his current angelic state of focus, and thanks to that he was able to swiftly dodge to the right and out of the way of the oncoming angel blade, double back behind his would be assassin, and stab him viciously through the chest cavity. However he wasn't prepared for the double attack. As he stabbed the first demon he felt a burning in his shoulder – the angel blade from the first demon had been savagely lodged between bone and muscle by another demon. Twisting against the pain, Castiel placed his palm and exorcised the demon from its host, killing the young body it had possessed as it took the blade down with it. Feeling slightly drained and less full, when he looked up from his kill he noticed that Crowley and his pack of hellhounds had disappeared. Quickly bending down, he took the angel blade from the slack grasp of the demon and placed it in the inside pocket of his trenchcoat. This would come in handy later, as it could help explain a few points that Castiel was still unclear upon. But that would have to wait. Right now, Castiel's top priority was Dean. He had to find him before anything could happen to him, before anyone could take him away. Castiel had to protect him at all costs, and if that cost meant using another section of his grace he would do it. He had to, he'd do anything to protect Dean, and with that thought, he swiftly made his way to the occupied garage.
-SPN-
Dean might not be the brightest candle in the shop, hell he was fine with admitting that between the two of them, Sam was the obvious brains of the outfit, but that's not to say that Dean himself was stupid. He most certainly wasn't, and that's part of the reason why he was still alive right now in this garage, despite the fact that he was still outnumbered five to one by demons and a couple of hellhounds who were wandering around the garage to boot by the sounds of it. No the reason he was still alive and kicking so to speak was because of his brains, well, that and the well packed arsenal inside his trunk. Credit where credit was due, Dean knew he owed his life to the weapons that traveled with him, and they had never served him so well as they had today, he had already managed to dispatch of three of the more obvious demons in the group when they had lunged for him, but now the remaining ones had him cornered and he was quickly running out of ammunition. Short of launching the guns themselves at the demons, and he was more than well aware of how little that would affect them, they would have him soon, and from what Meg said before, once they had him a reunion would be on the cards. One that Dean had never wanted to make once he'd been rescued from hell, and one that he hadn't expected he'd ever have to contemplate after Sammy had disposed of the demon that had slowly sucked away his spirit for thirty years, and the beginning of his humanity for the resulting ten after that.
But Dean wasn't thinking about any of that at this current moment. At the moment he was trying to contemplate the best route for escape from these foul demons. Obviously summoning Gabriel had been a wash out, and Castiel was who knew where busy dealing with what else was out there, and the only person he had to rely on was himself, but it seemed his luck had truly run out as the demons began discussing what to do with him between one another before heading back to report in on the day's work.
"We should have a little fun with him first, after all Alastair used to brag all the time about how he was the sweetest little slave that side of hell that he'd had in many a century. So then why can't we experience it a little for ourselves?" The demon who spoke leered towards Dean, he was dressed like the poster boy for a tax man. Dean inwardly shuddered. He would go down, and go down fighting to the end. He couldn't change what had happened to him back then but he certainly wouldn't be anybody's bitch here!
Swinging forwards blindly into the throng, Dean aimed the demon killing knife high before swiftly pulling his arm down and stabbing the first demon he could lay purchase on, who was in the body of a middle aged woman. Flinging the holy water into the face of the demon to his right, he was about to make a run for it when he felt an arm go around his neck, cutting his air supply through his windpipe short and quickly disabling his flailing limbs.
"Feisty one aren't you? Boy am I going to have fun with you!" The demon jeered before twisting the knife from Dean's fingers, spraining his wrist in the process. Grabbing the knife, he ran it slowly up and down Dean's body, causing it to tense up in anticipation before drawing a thin bloodied line down from just under his left nipple to just above his hip bone, causing Dean to hiss in slight pain and anger at the drawn out process.
Just as he was about to try the exorcism ritual once more, a blast of wind ripped through Bobby's garage, and someone he was all too glad to see appeared.
Castiel!
His mind sung, and before any of the demons in the room could react, the angel's body was inches from Dean's as he laid his hand on the demons wrist which was still clutching at Deans neck, therefore quickly dispelling and killing it.
Stepping back slightly and turning to the other demons in the room, Castiel spoke in the cold and ordered voice of a soldier once more, "Any other attacks on either me, Dean Winchester, or anyone affiliated with us will not be taken as lightly as this one," and within a blink of an eye Castiel quickly flew from demon to demon killing all but one with his angel sword, before turning to said only living demon in the room – Meg, "You can send that message back to whoever you're working for, the next time you attack, war will begin. And the next time I see you, believe me when I say that I will kill you for your involvement in this."
And with that Meg quickly escaped the garage. When Castiel was sure she had vacated the premises via a car he heard running outside the front of Bobby's home, he turned to Dean and gripped his shoulder to try and steady his friend who appeared very pale compared to his usual sunkissed complexion, which worried him greatly.
Looking the hunter in the eyes, he softly questioned him, "Dean?"
It was all he needed to say. In that one name he got across his wonder and concern for him, and that was what snapped Dean out of it, and shrugging Castiel's hold off from his shoulder, he turned his back on him, both physically and mentally before asking him,
"What the hell Cas? You keep doing that, but god I'm-"Dean stopped here, because he knew it was unfair to act like this to Castiel, but he was feeling so many conflicting emotions right now towards his friend. Gratitude, awe, happiness from being saved, anger at being the weak one once again, and it was the anger he went with, twisting it and using it for his own purposes to try and distance the angel from himself and his conflicting emotions.
Turning back around, he looked the angel dead in the eyes before continuing, "Look Cas, I'm not some princess who needs rescuing every time trouble comes to town. I've managed to take pretty good care of myself since I was four freaking years old. I don't need you coming in acting all macho bad ass motherfucker Angel of the Lord and warning demons from me like some sort of weak maiden ok? It's not like they'll listen, in fact you've probably just made things worse now and given them a reason to up the ante."
Storming past his friend Dean could feel the deep coils of guilt settling around his gut – and he steadfastly ignored it. After all, he was Dean Winchester, and ignoring things, pretending they didn't happen, is what Dean Winchester does best, even he was aware of that.
-SPN-
Castiel could not understand Dean's reactions. He couldn't understand his own actions, but when he'd seen that demon gripping Dean tightly to itself, he'd felt instant outrage, and another emotion his vessel told him… jealousy? It supplied. But that did not make sense, why would he be jealous of a demon?
'He was closer to Dean, physically, that you've ever been or ever will be. It may have been against his will, and it may be illogical, but you know that Dean would never be that close with you willingly either' something inside him spoke, but the very idea of it was preposterous and he dismissed it instantly. After all emotions were very difficult things to differentiate. Castiel was still unused to them after two years on earth, but he did know that this other emotion, whether it be jealousy or something else, wasn't the first time he'd felt it in regards to Dean. He'd felt it when he'd watched him kissing Anna too. But above all these emotions, the one that had outshone them all was the very need to protect his charge. Protect him, and keep him safe. That's why he'd charged in and killed the demon that had dared lay its hands upon him, dare draw his friend's blood, despite knowing he'd diminished his grace already. That that action would diminish his grace by a third in the very short events of one afternoon. He did this because he had to, and Castiel admitted to himself that if given the choice again, he'd still act exactly the same, knowing that it ensured Dean's safety. Dean was always protecting others; it was Castiel's job to protect him. It always had been, ever since he raised him from the pit.
Castiel didn't know quite how long he stood there in the garage before he slowly made his way towards Bobby's house. When he entered he remained in the doorway unsure of what to do until Dean acknowledged him. A half-naked Dean that was. For some reason this set the pulse of Castiel's body racing, perhaps his vessel was running a fever? But he had to dismiss this idea immediately as ridiculous. Angels don't contract illnesses.
Dean for his part was completely oblivious to the current watcher he had, as he was trying to wrap a bandage around his ribs, which had been subject to a few vicious punches and hits during his battle with the demons, and were therefore more than a little sore. If he had to bet money on it, he'd say at least one of his ribs were bruised. The issue was that with his wrist being out of commission now as well, he was having a little problem tying all the bandages together, causing him to be in the situation he was now, muttering curses under his breath before he heard a well timed cough behind him, causing his head snapped up and for his eyes to meet those of Castiel's.
Dean didn't know how long they spent staring at one another, but he was very aware of the blush that went up over his cheeks causing him to feel like some teenage schoolgirl, and of the arm with the damaged wrist coming up to try and cover his chest and preserve whatever modesty he still had, which considering this was the second time that he'd been shirtless before the angel in one day, wasn't much, Dean had to admit.
"Could I be of assistance Dean?" Castiel questioned, knowing that Dean would never ask him straight forwardly for his help.
Coughing and looking towards the ground, Dean muttered something about 'damn demons and their strength' before nodding affirmatively to the angel in front of him.
Walking towards his friend, Castiel very gently secured the bandages around Dean's narrow waist and muscled chest before tying them. Dean still wouldn't look at him. This caused Castiel to frown slightly. Surely he wasn't embarrassed?
"Sit." The angel ordered, and for once Dean did so without complaint, being pleasantly submissive under his care, Castiel observed. Sitting across from Dean, Castiel took the supplies from the well-stocked medical box Bobby kept under the kitchen sink and set to work on Dean's wrist, having viewed this procedure more times than he could count since becoming affiliated with the Winchester brothers, not to mention Team Free Will and the numerous injuries they sustained during that time. It was therefore due to this that Castiel was well versed in the correct method of attending to wounds such as sprains, broken bones and knife wounds. He'd had to learn a lot of things when he was falling after he'd rebelled, and dealing with injuries was just one in a long line of those things. However he was brought out of his musings just as he was tying the sprained wrist up by Dean's question of,
"Cas, whose is that?" And pointing with his good hand, Dean also looked pointedly at the other angel blade in Castiel's pocket.
Holding Dean's hand in his own, it took Castiel a moment to figure out Dean's meaning before he dropped the hunters hand from his to reach for the angel blade in his pocket – a loss he felt acutely. Reading the name there, he visibly paled before Dean, only half hearing the hunter calling his name and asking him what was wrong before he replied,
"It belongs to an old friend. I'll be back soon." And with that, Dean was left alone in Bobby's house, barely half an hour after the demon attack, with questions on the tip of his tongue and a burning desire to throttle a certain angel in a trenchcoat.
-SPN-
Having put the groceries that they'd abandoned during the midst of the fighting away and placed numerous devils traps and salt lines in and around Bobby's house, Dean finally lowered his pain abused body to the bed and soon fell into a sleep that was plagued by nightmarish images from the memories which he had thought suppressed during the last battle of Team Free Will against the devil, but the events of today had obviously gotten to him more than he had thought.
"Nobody's coming to save you Dean," Alastair crooned over him, scalpel blood covered from the hours spent cutting into Dean's yielding flesh.
"Well, it seems you're not quite enjoying the current fun were playing at there, want to try a different approach?" The demon asked, and that's when Dean felt it. The free hand of the demon sliding up his thigh, inching higher and higher, up to the waistband of the torn and bloodied jeans he still wore, causing him to-
Dean woke up choking off a scream before the memory could progress too far. Yes, there were certain things that even Dean was thankful for, and for once he found himself silently saying thanks to whatever had woken him just in time before the dream could envelope him too far into a memory he'd tried so hard to bury. He hadn't been plagued by dreams quite as real or vivid as that since he'd returned from Hell. Shivering due to the cold sweat that now covered his body and the aftermath of the nightmare, Dean got up and went downstairs for a glass of water, expecting to be met with a silent and sombre nerd angel on the way, but Castiel still wasn't back yet from whatever mission he'd disappeared on. For some reason this made Dean wonder, 'maybe it's my fault Castiel isn't here, could it be something to do with what I said earlier?" But he shook that thought off. Cas knew what Dean was like, and he wouldn't disappear just due to something Dean had said. And after patching him up earlier, Dean was pretty sure they were A-Okay now, or at least they were for the moment.
Taking the glass of water with him back up to bed, Dean laid down and let his mind wander, half hoping that he would get to sleep again, and half hoping that he wouldn't just in case his dreams were plagued once more. By the time he finally managed to sleep, his dreams were plagued, but this was by a completely different type of dream.
Hot, warm breath on his neck as someone kissed him down neck and to the hollow of his throat, down even further, onto his collarbones, little open mouthed kisses before coming back and nipping at his chin, just grazing with their teeth, causing Dean's head to dip back even further, and then they were gone. Snapping his head back up, Dean grabbed onto the first thing he could see, and suddenly he was in a sea of blue as he pulled them closer to him once more, by their.. blue tie? Lips ghosted over his again before Dean opened his eyes fully, only to be met a forest of vivid green, and bright blue eyes, familiar eyes.
This was the moment when Dean's body jerked awake in bed for the second time that night. In the few moments before all the details of his dream became a hazy thought in the back of his mind once more, Dean was only aware of a couple of things. One, he had a problem he needed to deal with down below, which caused him to groan to himself. Two, it was deadly silent, Castiel wasn't back yet... Castiel. An image of a blue tie and equally blue eyes came back into his mind, making his earlier problem disappear, because damn it Dean Winchester wasn't gay, but there was no mistaking the logic. Castiel's tie, his eyes … they are both blue.
A/N's: I hope you guys liked this chapter, it certainly gave me a lot of problems that's for sure! I saw quite a few people added this story to their alerts/favourites last chapter, I'd really appreciate it if you guys could leave me a review, in fact it would make my day.
I've also a few questions for you all:
Would you guys like this to be an mpreg or not in time?
Does anyone here mind if we have some side Sabriel eventually?
Where would you guys like Gabriel to take Sam next, or would you prefer it if I surprise you?
Thank you all once again for reading, and please don't forget to review! Until next time!
