FOUR MONTHS LATER
"Dean!"
Castiel looked up from where he was held on the ground. His wrists were bound behind his back, and he was on his knees held at gunpoint. Dean lay on the ground in front of him, unmoving. Castiel's anxiety levels were through the roof. Between escaping Heofon with Dean, abandoning everything he knew in life to be true, and willingly allowing himself to be recaptured by Rebels was a lot for him to take in right now. Not to mention he was currently surrounded by a mob of angry Rebels in Lawrence, the very heart of Rebel activity.
John Winchester pushed his way past the crowd of people surrounding them. He set his eyes on his son and immediately stopped in his tracks. The muscles in his jaw clenched along with his fists. The surrounding people fell silent.
Dean's body was littered with harsh multicolored bruises and cuts, while his face sported two black eyes and more bruises to match his body.
"Dean…" John whispered, and dropped to his knees, kneeling over his unconscious son. He sat there on his knees for a moment, just staring at Dean, before he slowly lifted up Dean's shirt and inhaled sharply. His chest and abdomen were, as the rest of his body, filled with large deep purple contusions. There were welts and red lines that crisscrossed across his upper body. John recognized them as marks from a whip.
No one dared say a word as John continued to look over his son. He turned his son on his side to inspect his back and heard several gasps from the group surrounding him. Although there were fewer bruises, there were double the whip marks. Old and new scars marred his body. And finally, as if to add insult to injury, Dean had literally been branded a prisoner. Burned into his left shoulder-blade was the Garrison's insignia with a 'P' for prisoner in the middle. John took a deep breath, trying to swallow his anger long enough to complete his inspection. Returning Dean to his back, he moved to his ribs. He moved his hands over his son's body, searching for anything unusual or broken. He stopped when he hit a certain spot on Dean's ribcage. John nearly jumped when a wince escaped the beaten body below him, protesting the pressure on his broken rib.
Deans eyes fluttered open only about a third of the way. "Dad?" It was barely audible. Helplessness washed over him. He had never heard his son so weak.
John forced a small smile. "Yeah Dean it's me. You're home."
"Dad…" Dean whispered with obvious strain. "Dad, I didn't tell them anything. I didn't…" he cut off as a cough that echoed deeply in his raw throat broke through, blood coming up with it. A look of pain overtook his purple-ridden face.
"I know you didn't, I know. We're gonna get you fixed up alright? Just hang in there."
Dean gave a small nod then closed his eyes, falling back into oblivion.
"Take him to the infirmary." He got up from his knees to find every eye upon him. "NOW!" he barked out with a voice that defined authority. A small group rushed to Dean's side and carefully lifted him to carry to the medical building.
John looked around and took notice of the man being held by gunpoint. "Do you mind telling me who the hell this is?" he growled, pointing at Cas.
"Sir, we found him with Dean. He's an Angel, sir."
John's head snapped to look at Castiel. Any hint of gentleness or kindness he held for his son had vanished. "You son of a bitch" he deadpanned, venom in his voice. Fury radiated off of him, but his voice never reached above the volume of a conversation. "This is your doing."
Castiel was speechless. He knew that this was, in part, his fault. He had told them his name; he stood by and watched it happen. He couldn't deny anything. "Yes, but you must understand-" he fell silent as John drew his gun from his holster and aimed it at his chest. Hatred was etched on every inch of his face as he cocked the gun.
"John!"
John reluctantly looked up to see a woman running towards him. "Ellen, stay out of this"
"John put your gun down, you can't kill him"
"And why not!" he yelled
"We can use him. Now lower your gun."
John continued to glare at Castiel. "No. You saw what they did to Dean. He has to pay."
"I couldn't agree with you more. But you're letting your emotions cloud your judgment. Damn it John, put your gun down."
He held his stance for another minute before dropping his arm with a scowl. "We are not done" he directed at Cas with a deadly tone. "Take him to the barracks."
Sam rode back into camp. He sighed as he passed through the gates into Lawrence. He had been searching for a way into Heofon for four months now with absolutely nothing to show for it. Nothing. He's literally been to the opposite side of the map and back, searching out any books, people, or information that could even get him close to Hoefon. But what did he have to show for it? Zero. He slid off his horse when he saw a familiar blonde woman come running towards him.
"Hey Jo" he greeted wearily, tired from his journey.
"Deans back" she stated, getting right to the point.
Sam snapped his head towards her. "Where is he?"
"Infirmary"
Sam immediately sprinted toward the medical building, all weariness forgotten. When he saw Dean his heart stopped. He felt guilty as hell for leaving Dean, though he knew it was the logical decision. Dean lay shirtless on the table, still unconscious. He stared in horror over his brothers beaten body.
"Dean."
"Sam, I'm sorry but he can't hear you"
Sam turned to the doctor. "How long has he been here Frank?" Frank Harrison was the best doctor in the infirmary. John had personally assigned him to Dean's case, telling him that he would have whatever he needed to get Dean better.
He sighed "About two days now. He's been unconscious ever since he was brought in. I can't figure out what's wrong with him, his condition seems to have gotten worse…"
"Sam, I see your back"
He turned to see his father standing in the doorway. "So how is he Harrison?"
"Sir, I just got done telling Sam that his condition seems to have worsened." Frank informed him.
John frowned and a moment of silence passed. "Just… Just keep working on it."
Sam caught up with John as he headed out the door. "Dad, what happened?"
"About two days ago a couple of scouts saw two men riding in the direction of the base. When they saw one of the members wearing an Angel uniform they surrounded them and found out that it was Dean being held hostage."
Sam frowned. "Just one Angel? He was captured by a fleet of twenty or so that makes no sense."
John shook his head angrily "The bastards not telling us anything either. He keeps saying that he escaped with Dean" he snorted "A runaway Angel. Bullshit"
"Where is he now?"
"The Angel? In the barracks"
Sam broke off from John and headed for the barracks. He nodded to the guards in the building then looked through the bars of the bleak cell. The man inside had a black eye and had definitely seen better days.
"Castiel?"
Castiel looked up to look at Sam, relief covering his face. "Sam, it's good to see you." He got up from sitting against the wall of the back corner and walked to the bars to face Sam, his hands and feet in chains. "You have to listen to me. I'm sorry. I should have done something sooner. But you have to get the antidote to Dean."
"Antidote? What antidote?"
"The Garrison poisoned Dean. I brought the antidote with us when we escaped but never got the chance to give it to him. No one here will believe me; they refuse to use it on him. He's running out of time Sam."
"But why? Why are you doing this? Why should I believe you?"
Castiel sighed. "It is difficult to explain… Dean… Dean is a good man. He did not deserve what the Garrison did to him. And… I see the Garrison for what it is now. I am no longer a servant of the King."
Sam studied Castiel. He seemed to be telling the truth. What scared him the most was that he was gambling with Dean's life. It could actually be poison for all he knew. But what if it wasn't? What if the Angel was really offering him a way to save Dean's life?
"I don't know man, I'm not sure if I can take you on your word."
"I swear it"
"How do I know that you're not just trying to kill Dean?"
He paused "If I had wanted to kill Dean, I would have left him with the Garrison."
Sam only stared at Castiel. He didn't seem like the other Angels, but that doesn't change what he is. But he was desperate. Dean wasn't getting better, poison would fit. He put a hand up to his head. The indecision and uncertainty was killing his head. Sam thought hard and rapidly, despite his aching head. The doctor's hopeless words rang through his head.
"Alright. But I swear to god if Dean gets hurt, you'll regret it."
Castiel did not doubt him for a second. He was reminded of their earlier travels, the clear and inseparable bond the two brothers shared. When there was no response Sam left the building, frantically searching for his father. He found him in the medical building, sitting in the corner writing in his journal.
"Dad, where is the Angel's bag?" he asked, a little short of breath from his running.
"What? Why? Sam what's wrong?" it wasn't a question of his well being, but in fear something had happened to the camp.
"Dean's poisoned. The antidote is in the Angel's bag. Where is it?"
John scoffed "You actually believe the crap he's peddling? He's lying Sam."
"No, I don't think so."
John stood up, his voice angry, "You don't think so? This is your brother's life you're playing with; there isn't room for I don't think so."
Sam registered the tone his father used, the tone he hated. The tone that discredited whatever he said as idiotic. "You think I don't know what's at stake? He is dying Dad! And he's not getting any better! Poison fits, and if you're too hard headed to accept help from an Angel then I will because Dean won't last much longer!"
"You said it yourself, he's an Angel! An Angel! After what you've seen them do you just want to trust one? What's wrong with you?"
The two men were inches away from each other's face, fury radiating off both them. They both spun around when they heard a small cough. Dean's doctor stood nervously in the doorway.
"I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to interrupt, but I" he hesitated "I agree with Sam. Poison would explain why his condition is not improving. At this point… it may be the only option we have left."
The doctor looked as if he were waiting for a bomb to explode.
John looked at Sam and Frank with disbelief. No one said anything as John stood there, fists clenched, fuming.
"Fine!" he growled "then go get the Angel. His bag is at the barracks. Mark knows where it is."
Minutes later, Castiel was shoved through the door, hands still cuffed in front of him.
"I'm giving you one chance. One. And I swear to god if this is a trick..." he let the threat hang in the air.
Castiel could only nod. The Rebel leader did not strike him as someone who would make empty threats.
"Explain what he was poisoned with. It's like nothing I've ever seen" Frank piped in after he thought John was done threatening the Angel.
"That's because the plant it comes from is only grown inside the walls of Heofon. It is a unique poison that moves through the body, destroying it from the inside. The Garrison uses it for interrogating prisoners. While terminating the body's immune system, the nerves in the body are sent into overdrive. Pain is doubled, if not tripled."
He paused to make sure the doctor understood what he had just said. "While it is lethal, the poison does not kill immediately, slowly destroying its host. When given small amounts of the antidote, it can resist the fatality of it. This makes it perfect for the Garrisons use."
John interrupted him at this point "Yeah ok, we get it. The poison is just amazing on all accounts. Now how do we heal my son?" he snapped, becoming impatient.
"To completely heal him the antidote must be administered numerous times in small doses. Taking it all at once would send Dean's body into shock. Divide the bottle into fourths and give him a portion every three hours." Castiel searched his mind for anything he may have missed, but was almost certain he told them everything they needed to know.
The doctor set to work immediately.
"Is that all?" John demanded.
"Yes, it is."
The way John looked at him made Castiel uncomfortable. Every movement he made toward Castiel screamed 'I hate you and don't trust you worth a damn'.
"Think hard Angel" he spat. "If I ever find out that you are withholding information from me, so help me god, I will end you."
"Dad, that's enough."
"No Sam. Dean was in Heofon for four goddamn months. Excuse me if I'm having a hard time forgiving and forgetting here. We don't even know what happened."
Sam looked as if he were about to retort when he paused. "What did happen, Castiel?"
"I escaped with De-"
"Yeah we already know that part ass-hat. I want to know what happened in the past four months," John snapped at him.
Castiel took a deep breath; they weren't going to like this.