Chapter Eleven:
Feel no sorrow, feel no shame, Come tomorrow, feel no pain
Castiel finds a spot just inside the building to gather his thoughts. They scatter like chickens with a fox in the pen. He heaves a few deep breaths and looks out towards the semi trailer again. Michael is out there directing it around to aim the rear of it towards the now opening hanger doors. Castiel is startled when two of his team walk by, not noticing him standing just on the inside of the door, one saying, "The General really has a wide imagination doesn't he? He renamed it 'Spike'."
"I heard that the reason Michael got the dragon so cheap was because he lived up to his nickname of 'Man-eater'."
The other chuckled, "Better then his first name, I heard it was 'Freckles'."
"Oh yeah, and they're calling the mother 'Eve' since she's the first female dragon we've ever seen."
"So shouldn't that make our boy Cain or Abel?" their voices fading out as they walked away.
Castiel looked out at the trailer box again. "Freckles? Really? Does it have freckles? More importantly, why does it have freckles? Is that supposed to help in camouflage?" he wondered out loud, wanting a closer look at the thing without the risk of bodily harm.
It had been years since this building was used and it showed. Michael got it for cheap and fairly quickly when the whole deal was going down between him and the General. He had scouted out numerous locations for holding the mother dragon should his negotiations and meetings with the General go in his favor, but he never suspected that the General would have a 'spare' dragon he was willing to sell. He was more or less planning to get the first dragon in a year at least. Let the military have its new play thing until it becomes a hassle to take care of and he'd sweep in and take the burden from their hands when they got bored with it like an old dog that required more care then they're willing to give. It seemed to him that the government does that a lot. If they're not useful or new, it's replaced and destroyed.
Michael was pleased and shocked that the General would keep the older mother and give up the young strong baby. He wondered for a moment if really was that big of a problem child. Michael decided it's better for him this way, they can train the bad habits out of it early, but still, he had no idea how big the baby dragon would be, knowing that it's not even 5 months old. He was expecting something under 10 feet tall. Here the dragon was, about 14 at the shoulder and another 9 on top of that to his head. Most people only came up to the thing's elbow. Michael really wanted the mother dragon, and that is still his end goal, but for now, the kid will do. He just has to prove to the military that they will benefit with Michael in charge of the two monstrous things. The rest of Michael's time was spent trying to track down the mate for the mother so that he could learn how they reproduce. He didn't believe for a second that they reproduce asexually. The trace evidence of the first nest with the three destroyed eggs suggests that the DNA composition were all slightly different. There must be more dragons out there. For now, he will leave this prize in the care of his most trusted employee, Castiel. Even though the man was only hired recently, he showed his intellect and determination in every job he was assigned. He worked hard and lead his team well. Michael knew he could be trusted with this monumental task while he himself hunted down a way to get the mother and find the father of his offspring.
Michael was pleased to see Castiel taking the news so well. The man was odd, always wearing that tan trench coat for one, and obviously excited, but he knew that the hard worker would sort himself out soon enough and get things together in his absence. Michael wished that he'd introduced Castiel to more things relating to the dragon before throwing him front and center, but, he had to make sure that the trench coat wearing cryptozoologist could be trusted. If he showed the world that one scale from the mother instead of just his room-mate, then there'd be problems. Michael looked into Balthazar's past and found him innocent enough. Ignoring the checkered past, Balthazar was all about finding out the truth in things and would be perfect for his leader's partner in this. Castiel always seemed more together with his friend around so Michael allowed Balthazar to be Castiel's adviser.
Castiel goes back outside to stand close to the table where all the findings were still laying on it. He flips through a few pages in the folder and finds several DVD's that have markings similar to his own company's code for security camera's. All across the top edges were, 'Your Eyes Only', 'Top Secret', and other warnings which made his heart start pounding again. He was the one these were for. He was in charge now. Everyone's gonna be looking to him for orders and answers...
He needed a drink.
Castiel turned around and regards the semi box that is already being backed into one of the smaller hanger doors of the warehouse. Leaving the enormous hanger doors closed to help with containment. The trailer keeps rocking side to side as the thing within keeps shifting or maybe ramming the walls as it's being moved. He hears a muffled roar and his nerves are alight with anxiety. The rumbling and movement settle once the semi stops with the rear of it a good 5 feet into the warehouse. Portable makeshift walls are being moved to the sides of the semi so that if the animal does get loose before being fully tranquilized, it wont be able to squeeze out of the door on either side of the trailer.
Castiel notices that all they have to do is open both rear doors of the trailer to let it into the warehouse. Michael is busy talking to some of his own people, not really paying attention to the trailer or Castiel and his small team. Castiel is suddenly aware that his team is waiting for him to go with them into the warehouse. He tells them to take a few minutes to clean the space for the cage and to pick out where they want to set up their lab space and equipment. He knows that his team is almost as excited as he is and they get to work right away. Amiably chatting about what the future will hold for their careers if this pans out. Some talk about using the dragon like a war horse and soon a playfully yet passionate debate arises as the area is cleaned up and sanitized. His team chooses the spot closest to the generators and the few random tables that were left behind in the warehouse are being brought over and arranged as temporary base of operations.
He is reminded that the dragon had actually burned down his previous holding facility and a lump forms in his throat. The new containment must be stronger then a damned military base. He is aware that the dragon can't produce flames but is unsure how that's possible. Or even how it was possible in the first place. At least the containment that he will build now doesn't have to withstand the fires that it can create. Small luxuries.
Castiel looks around the mostly deserted building and carefully plans out where the best place to put the containing cage in the vast space. Far far away from the generators. If the dragon can still start fires, he will not make the same mistake the military made. Nothing that can explode will be within that things reach. His office is only a few hundred feet away from a good sized spot. That way all he has to do is leave the office door to see it.
He figures that the cage would have to be built in only a few days because the dragon had already been cooped up in the semi box for at least two or three days with no other adequate housing or holding cage big enough.
Castiel looks at the semi box in hidden anticipation as several contractors walk up to him and propose various holding containers. One of which was designed in such a way to keep the dragon from moving at all, permanently. It resembled a medieval rack used to torture people in dungeons. Castiel's face is disgusted when he sees that one and flips thru the other few containers blueprints. He ops to go for a souped up version of the elephant cage. He insists they make it 4 times as large as the dragon needs with huge bars of solid metal. He already got information from Michael on what the previous cages dimensions were, and a brief mention that the place the dragon was at before was just a pool for dolphins at a zoo. Castiel couldn't believe his ears on that one. The specs he was given for the monster suggested that he would have been unable to move much in either cage. That's just... plain and simple animal cruelty.
He points at the elephant cage and asks again that it be made 4 times as large as the blueprints suggest. He then listens to the details and they adjust everything accordingly. The dragon will be able to move around more, able to take a dozen steps before having to turn and take another dozen or so steps, and it can stand up straight with 7 feet to spare along the ceiling to allow for added growth. The wings are simply too huge to fit overstretched inside the building because the ceiling itself is only so high. Thankfully, the whole roof of the building was constructed to hold up several helicopters at once so it is more then strong enough to keep in an animal. He may be an immense monster, but he does not have any superpowers. If a trailer can keep him contained, Castiel is pretty sure this sturdy steel and cement building can do the job more then good enough. More iron bars are added in the altered design, same thickness, one whole wall of the cage will be the door but will be welded shut after the dragon enters and is sedated for the duration of the welding. Castiel took an idea from the General's cage and made sure that the bars are wide enough apart to let people in and out without trouble but the dragon is far to large to fit through. That way if there ever was a problem with the beast the men could easily run out of any part of the cage ... if they make it to the cage wall.
Castiel was pleased with it, glad that for once in its life it could take more then a few steps. The thing was just so huge that they couldn't do much better for it. The cage will take up the vast majority of the hanger with every other wall housing the humans and equipment. Giving the cage a wide berth for safety reasons. Meanwhile, construction has already started again. Before the General and everyone arrived, Michael had suggested where to put the cage and after his own consideration, Castiel figured that Michael's suggestion was best. The construction started on pouring the metal reinforced cement base early that morning. It was on hold while the negotiations were being held, but now the screech of metal being sawed and rumble of concrete being pounded and poured hurt his ears. He walked to the entrance of the building again, squinting at the sun. There was another smaller warehouse behind this one with numerous trucks and cement mixers, holding the raw materials temporarily, so that when the dragon did arrive, it wouldn't take long to build the custom made cage. Castiel was noticing a lot of things today, now that he has his breath and anxiety back under control. Ever since he got here he'd been on pins and needles. Michael didn't comment much beyond a wry statement, "You're gonna do fine, I trust you. Just don't slay my dragon."
Castiel grinned back and said he'd do his best. He then set about getting his team and the limited resources up and running. Getting plans worked out and arranged to have all of their things from their old labs and work places to be brought here so they did not have to commute for everything. Some even suggested bringing in a few mobile homes for those long nights where they just need a place to crash. Castiel said he'd think about it but that would make working out in this remote area more bearable if they had a few camper homes on location. Even if it's just for breaks in the day, and a Plan B for those that didn't want to drive the hour long distance from here to their homes. Castiel wondered how much of his new raise he could spend on an old camper to live in on site. Balthazar might throw a fit but he'll come around and probably use it too to stay close. Yeah. This could work.
Castiel was busy, trying to direct a good two dozen people like a movie director. He inwardly grinned. He was finally getting the respect he longed for and deserved.
Dean, meanwhile, is very confused as to what is going on. It had been so long since the tests started that he had forgotten where he came from before Master and Alistair. Everything kept changing. What new horrors can he expect to withstand now? Will he loose more of himself? He had a feeling he wasn't always this way. He sometimes had glimpses of parks and campgrounds, but these memories were also mixed with flashes of knives and silver bars. It was always painful to look back into his early memories. He was shocked far too many times in his lifetime. Too often to count. They didn't white out everything from his past but they did enough damage to his sanity in the process. There were fond memories of a young boy with shaggy hair and different memories of that same boy but as a man wielding a long rifle and shouting something to him before the memory fades to white then black. Something must have gone wrong, because that's the last time he knows he saw that tall shaggy haired man.
Dean now took everything slowly if he was allowed. Most of the time he didn't care about anything that's going on around him. Why bother? He hated the way they would treat him because he knew his life had been vastly different. Not better per say, but the feeling of freedom and free will gnawed at his insides, though he couldn't say how it had been or how he knew. He was very confused and his lack of concentration in the former laboratories had led them to believe he was brain damaged and of no use to them anymore. He cost more to maintain then the benefits he gave. They already had his mother somewhere. He couldn't save her. Even he could see that she would be more valuable to them then him. She could give them more dragons if they wanted them. They just had to figure out how she did it without a male. He was just another huge mouth to feed. A trouble that wasn't worth dealing with anymore. Stubborn, and combative, unlike the mother. The fire he set destroying the previous building and research didn't help matters at all.
He firmly stomped a foot to forget about those jerks. That was his past and this, he thought, must be his future. He would expect the worst and hope for the least worse. He leaned his large arrow shaped head against the wall of the box and listened intently to the goings on outside of his tiny metal coffin.
Dean learned to recognize Tan coat's voice because his sounded kind, but authoritative. He must be the one in charge of this place because after everything he said, he heard a "Yes, Sir."
Tan coat got a call and answered it not too far from Dean's trailer. He kept saying the word Balth over and over and sounded upset, then resigned. Dean could make out Tan coat saying, "Just don't get in the way, Balth." before hanging up. The guy then looked down the road and sighed heavily before going over to Michael and saying some words. Michael then waved his hand, like saying, 'No matter,' and then a relieved look in Tan coat's eyes. He looked towards the trailer again, and looked directly at Dean who stared right back. A moment passed with them just looking at each other. Finally a word from someone behind Tan coat got his attention and he went back to the table outside. Going over the folder some white coat's gave him.
Dean mumbled to himself, 'I really should start learning some of the biped's names. Make life easier for me. If only they'd actually tell me.'
Tan coat just sat down at the table, not really facing his trailer but Dean watched him read. This being only slightly more entertaining then watching blood dry. The warp in the porthole window only allowed direct line of sight to be seen by him. He had to move his head constantly in front of it to make out what was beyond. His eyes were just too big and far from the end of his nose to look through it easier. He had to angle his head to be parallel with the door and look out with just one eye to his extreme right and therefore fuzzed every image he could see. If he were a prey animal this would be a piece of pie but he had forward facing eyes to hunt better. He huffed at the door and its window. Apparently Tan coat heard him and looked over to his window, cocking his head to the side and squinting. Maybe Tan coat had bad eyesight too.
Dean nosed at the door. Sniffing at the seams for some fresh air. The small vent towards the front was not very adequate for his needs. He said to Tan coat, 'I can't breath in here. Wanna open the door for me?'
Tan coat just kept on squinting and eventually went back to reading from the folder. Dean sighed, 'Worth a shot.' before laying back down and dozing some more. Nothing was happening and it strained his neck to hold it at that angle. Just not enough room to stretch out. Days like this. He wondered if he will ever get to stand upright again. Because it doesn't look like anyone's gonna let him out anytime soon. He shuffled forward a little and looked out of the window again. Startled to see blue eyes and messy black hair on the other side of the porthole. Tan coat was right there. He looked like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't and quickly left. He did not fall away this time and Dean gave him kudos for that.
A beaten up car pulled into the area and Tan coat went over to greet the newcomer. They hugged and the new guy was talking excitedly with Tan coat. The word Balth was thrown around again and Dean realized that was this new guy's name. Likewise, Balth was saying the name 'Cassie' over and over again. So Tan coat is Cassie. Ok. Sounds weird, but ok.
Cassie brought Balth up to the trailer and gave a few warnings, "Don't agitated it too much. Don't poke the bear." Cassie then put his hand on Balth's shoulder and angled his friend to the porthole window. Dean pulled his head back from it. Balth tentatively got up onto the step and looked inside.
"Well done Cassie! Well done! He looks amazing!"
"I didn't do anything. Michael is the one that bought him."
"Yes, but it's your hard work that got you this position! And if it weren't for yours truly, you wouldn't have gotten that job in the first place. Isn't that right?" Balth said cheekily. This earned him a roll of the eyes from Cassie.
"Of course. All hail the mighty Balthazar, seeker of job openings and best friends to freaks. All hail!" Cassie bowed and chuckled behind Balth.
"No, no, this is all you. All bow before Castiel! Ruler of the mighty dragon... er... you said his name is Freckles?" Balthazar's hands fell to his sides and gave a questioning look to his friend.
"Apparently. Not just the only name, the General called him 'Spike' and some called him 'man-eater'. Pretty sure it's an exaggeration. I'm gonna think of something better. No way in hell am I putting 'Freckles' on the tops of all of his test results."
With a firm nod, Dean thumped a heavy fist to the floor inside the trailer and said, 'Damn straight!' which scared the hell out of the bipeds. 'Just make it cool, man.' He added. Both bipeds outside gave a nervous laugh before Balth got down and they started talking amongst themselves about what Cassie was expected to do with the dragon.
Apparently the conditions of the sale to Michael stipulated that Michael had to see if he could find a place for the dragon in the military somehow. Reproducing the chemical compounds of his liquid flame into future weapons. Finding out how his brain chemistry works, his motor skills in working multiple limbs, healing properties, flame proofing his own skin, finding out how his skin is also bulletproof and resistant to outside damage. The main fault in it being that knifes can separate the layers with relative ease. It was more resistant to blunt force then it was to cuts. If there were knights in shining armor going after dragons, swords would do the trick better then clubs.
Castiel read all of this while waiting for Balthazar to show up. He read up on the fragments of reports that came in from the recovery team that found the young dragon in that zoo. Most of the information went up in smoke when the building came down. Nearly all of the tests on the dragon were also destroyed but some were recreated from the reports that a few of the scientists working on it re-typed up for Michael. Just so that Michael's team wouldn't have to repeat too many of the tests. The ones that weren't finished with computer or digital analysis of the results would have to be reproduced however. It takes weeks for some tests to be completed and they only had the dragon less then a week before the fire was set. The biological tests that require time to set would be fairly easy to do again. So long as it was non-invasive and painless for the dragon. Thankfully the blood samples did make it out of the fire so that eliminated the need to draw more. For now at least. He wanted to build up some trust between the scientist and subject before asking him for the harder to reach samples. Michael hinted at brain tissue samples and even though Castiel was also curious as hell, he wanted to wait on those kinds of tests for later. Thankfully the military did not do them. Who knows what kind of brain damage they'd do to the thing. Better to do non-invasive's first, then behavioral, and then the in-depth tests.
Castiel was actually quite excited to be doing any tests himself. Making sure it was done right by his team that he trusted implicitly. He was warned by a few of the female soldiers not to forcefully remove his scales when it comes time for him to shed them. Apparently they saw the dragon start to shed some of the outer layer and decided to help out by cutting it off. That led to massive skin abrasions for the poor thing and most of them dug too deep with their knives. Castiel shuddered when he read what they reported and the few photo's that were rescued. The dragon looked like it had been skinned alive. Which, wasn't too far off. The raw redness didn't show up right away so they kept on cutting. Castiel had to stop reading at that. He put a hand to his mouth and wanted to throw up more now then ever out of disgust. No invasive skin tests. Period.
The trailer was still, some movement was heard but not seen. Castiel made a promise to that thing that they would be more humane and kind in their tests then that. Make damn sure that the dragon was ok and unharmed. Most of what they needed to learn from it did not require those kinds of tests. It was more about behavioral and intelligence, how would he react to different stimuli, commands, how does he learn. Is it through visual? Hereditary imprinting? Does he learn through actions and experiences of his own or can he learn through examples, abstract thought, and storytelling.
Castiel's head swam. So much work ahead. Balthazar was busy chatting away a one sided conversation to Castiel's earlobe while his mind was busy thinking about paperwork and theories.
Dean tried to listen closer to the conversations Cassie had with that other biped. Balth had a different way of speaking, his words sounded differently. Still English, but slightly different. Balth's speech was filled with anticipation and he hadn't said one pessimistic sentence in the whole hour he spoke with Cassie.
Castiel meanwhile was inclined to listen to him, but to correct his friend when the projections of progress seemed too far fetched for such an unknown venture. In reality, Castiel wanted to believe everything Balthazar said, that they could rehabilitate the animal and teach it things. Castiel had a daydream that he would be able to let the dragon loose from his cage without worrying about how it would react. Hoping that it wouldn't just fly away or start attacking people the second it got out. Castiel found himself wishing that the dragon would act like any other person, decent, kind and understanding. That was a far fetched idea. It was a monster after all. One that has no regard for human life as it set fire to the building. Uncaring that there were over a hundred people inside that could have died. Just looking at it proves that it could kill with ease. If they weren't gifted with the munitions with that plant supplement inside the rounds, he doubts they would be able to stop it at all.
They will just have to be extra careful in handling the beast. Even if it showed signs of mercy, it could be a ploy to gain sympathy or trust from the humans. Waiting long enough for them to slip up and assume it's harmless, then make its attack. He'd have to find out the things intentions before allowing it any kind of freedom. He was in charge of this facility. Responsible for everyone's safety. Michael put him in charge and he has a job to do. Find out what he can about the thing and see if any part of it can be used to further military technology or innovations. Michael wanted to know if they could use the animal himself to sic on the enemy. He even wrote out a plan of action for when Castiel was done testing it. Castiel could not say no, Michael may have put him in charge of this base, but he is the one that owns the dragon and everything inside except for the people. Castiel could be replaced easily if Michael was not impressed with his work.
After just a few minutes of looking at the poor tortured thing, Castiel couldn't let it fall into the wrong hands. Someone that would not care about its comfort or sanity. He wished he could let it out of its cage, to be free for just five minutes, but he knew that because he had the 20 armed soldiers at his disposal directly from the destroyed base, that he would not be allowed many liberties with the animal. Castiel was to test it, then train it to fight, and then sending it overseas to destroy all who threatened the US. It sounded more like a bad sci-fi movie plot then real science. He entertained the idea nonetheless, and Castiel thought its sheer size would be enough to scare them, there should be no need for warfare. He knew that his grip of control in the warehouse was wire thin and if he strayed too far from the objective he would be discharged and a ruthless official could be put in charge.
That thought made him uneasy. The dragon's been through enough. Evidence of real torture was found on its hide when it first showed up at the General's base. They had the mother and knew what a healthy dragon should look like, and Freckles was not in any way shape or form, healthy. Freckle's bones protruded everywhere, like a starved dog. His horns belied several blows to them, chips and cracks all along them. And at the base of his teeth and horns in some of the photos proved that he was electrocuted numerous times. They were char black and inflamed. His eyes though, they showed a lifetime of pain. Distrust. Stress and above all that, he could see how broken the young thing was. He hid it well, growling and roaring at every intrusion in his personal space, but, from just that quick look himself, Castiel knew that his work was cut out for him. Freckles looked sick, famished and beat. Even people that had no reference for how a dragon should look could tell that he had a terrible life.
Castiel saw a single photo of the mother in with the folder for his dragon. She was massive. Toned muscles that complimented a sleek body. There was evidence of that firefight that he'd heard about months ago when Balth first showed him evidence of her existence. The military was not kind when it captured her and it showed. The photo displayed her body's resilience to their attack but when he looked closer, and noticed the body's posture, her eyes, her expression, she looked sad. That's the only word that best fits. She was sad. Castiel looked at the date and it was a few days after she was captured. A few days after she lost her offspring.
He looked to the trailer again, trying to picture that huge monster being small enough to bundle into a normal vehicle and taken away from his mother. It was not the first or last time he'd feel sympathy for the creature but it did make his heart hurt. He knows what it's like to loose someone you love.
Castiel tried to calm his nerves and his thoughts with a cup of spiked coffee. There weren't many creature comforts in the warehouse but there was a small coffee/refreshments bar to be stocked with the food for all the soldiers being brought in. The bar was to be placed in the break room along the completely opposite side of the building. Coincidentally, his team set up shop closer to that and the generators for convenience sake. The military personnel hunkered down wherever there was a free spot out of the way, because they were just on loan from the General for a little while while they get the cage built and the mini base up and running. Castiel had his office, which had been gutted almost completely when the former owners wanted everything up to and including the kitchen sink from the premises, so Castiel's rations were in his office's closet. At the moment, all of his team had stored their personal effects in his office since it still had a lock on the door and Castiel was ok with looking after their things for now. Purses, satchels and other backpacks and bags of food were all lined up like ducks in a row along his back wall behind the desk. Out of sight from anyone that didn't fully enter his office.
He made a mental note to buy a coffeemaker of his own so he wouldn't have to steal precious coffee making time from his team. They practically lived on the black gold. He also had a stray thought to bring in some kind of television entertainment as well, and if Michael asks, he could say that this would be easier to train the dragon on what goes on in the real world. So as not to surprise it by what sounds go on in cities versus this quiet valley. Yeah. That might actually work.
Castiel checked up on his meager rations that Balth had brought him, finding mostly ready to eat foods, IE pop tarts, and half filled liquor bottles. Balthazar chucked as he handed over the bag of food from their pantry and dubbed it, "Food of the gods."
Castiel preferred to refer them as rations but in reality he had his car and easy access to the local grocery store and stock up his closet with doughnuts, trail mix, and pop. Castiel isn't that big of a drinker, but enjoys a good blue label whiskey when the mood hits him. Surprisingly one of the main reasons he did not drink is because it takes a hell of a lot to get him properly drunk. Balth learned not to challenge him to drinking games because he would always find himself 4 sheets to the wind with Castiel handing him a bucket at the side of his bed and aspirin without so much as hint of hangover in those blue eyes. Blue label seemed to do the trick well enough for him, but his crew had nearly stocked the bar with domestic beer and tequila, almost before is was finished being built.
All around the warehouse there was action. It was hard for Dean to distinguish one sound from another when a loud truck rolled up past the semi box. This startled him and he nearly jumped. He whipped his head around to the front then side of the semi box tracking this new noise. He crawled/walked over to one side of the box where he guessed the sound was coming from and pressed his ear against the wall. He definitely heard mooing. He involuntarily began to salivate. He licked his lips with his long narrow fork shaped tongue in anticipation. He vaguely remembered what cooked meat tasted like but he was only allowed fresh raw meat to eat, none of it prepared beyond cutting it up for him. Half the time they didn't even bother with that step and would just throw the carcass into his cages. He longed for a good hunt. Just once. He wouldn't promise that he would return, but one hunt would be awesome right about now. To feel the unhindered breeze in a field, the taste of water that did not come from a hose. The feel of real dirt under his feet. Dean sighed heavily and listened to the activity all around his metal box. Since this was early spring, he guessed, the air was still crisp and chilly. He could barely see his breaths but everyone else was puffing out smoke with every exhale. That was a tell for the bipeds for how they're feeling. Most of them must be scared of him because he'd see so much more of those clouds around them. Breathing hard and fast whenever he made a sound. The place he was before was warmer then this. He must be more northern now. He longed for his first home in the mountains and the forest. Now, his forest was made of iron bars. The animals all walked on two legs or were mooing. 'Just please, some variety? A window? Anything living that wont hurt me with knives and needles and shock? Or animals that I can just look at and not have to eat?' he moaned a little. 'I can see why bipeds have pets now. Since they live in these hard lifeless buildings, they fill them with animals to make them feel better. The animals may hate it, but who cares? So long as the bipeds are happy.' he thought and sighed again, 'I hate being a pet. But, I prefer that to torture test subject.' he thought miserably as he looked out at all the bipeds and their puffing breaths whipping into the chilly air.
Balthazar left shortly after handing over the bag of snacks and talking with him for a little while. He wasn't a full member of the team and was barely tolerated by Michael. They did not want to piss off Castiel's boss on the first day. Castiel promised his friend more face time with the monster when things all settle down. Balthazar insisted Castiel keep in touch but since he couldn't just be on the phone with him 24-7, Castiel agreed to let Balth spy on him and left a camera in his office aimed at his desk. They would adjust the angle once the big cage was done being built and a dragon resided within it. Balthazar worried about his friend. Rightly so, because of his test subject matter. Balthazar promised that he's just a quick 40 minute drive away if Castiel needs him.
Castiel went into his office which was almost completed, and sat down in his borrowed chair and looked at his empty desk. He opened up his empty file cabinet and placed one of the folders he was given in it. He is productive. See? Already a good boss. Organized. Efficient. Castiel opened up one of the other folders explaining his objective given to him by his superiors and Michael. He leafed through it and read some of the absurd qualifications the dragon must accomplish. Then slowly drifted off to sleep. All the excitement today drained him. He slept maybe an hour last night, and that was after Balthazar slipped a sleeping pill into his beer bottle. A nightmare woke him up before the rest could do any good. Indistinct monsters and teeth and fire.
The dragon, in the meantime, was still listening intently to the cows in the semi box next to his. He laid down next to the wall and slept. Suddenly the door banged open and a large hunk of red raw meat was thrown in and the door slammed shut again a few seconds later. He jumped at the sound and wildly looked around for the source of the noise. He looked down at the raw meat with disgust and tried to ignore the fact he was starving.
Ten minutes went by and his gaze went to the slung meat more often. If only they let him kill something... this was no fun at all. He sighed and walked over to it and started to eat. Deciding to take two large gulps and be done with it. After he ate it, he spat out some of the blood and viscera and turned around so he wouldn't have to look at the stain on the floor, a swish of his tail covered the spot with some hay. He started to lay down when the door opened again, slower and quieter this time.
This caught his attention more then the slamming, because they are careful in not startling him, they must want to look at him. He pretended to tiredly lay down facing the opposite direction of the door but his ears were pointed right at it. One footstep inside his box, two. His muscles tensed, ready. Gonna scare the shit out of that asshole that thinks he's some kind of attraction to ogle.
Then a sharp pain struck him on his side. Startled, he yelped and roared. The door was still open but the man ran out in panic, tripping and falling right off of the small ledge beyond the door. Dean spun around and growled menacingly when he noticed the door was open. He made a quick lunge for it and got his head out of it just in time to see the two men that were trying to close the door, leap back along with the darter. He muscled his head out of the door, metal screeching as his horns shoved both sides away to make room, and his neck stretched out as long as it could out of the door. There was no way in hell he could fit out that small door but at least he would have the satisfaction of clearly seeing where he was and what was going on. He looked all about with deep interest, all the while acting fierce and rabid to ward off anyone that tried to get close. Snapping headlong at several bipeds that ran forward with guns at the ready. The trailer swayed a little and he raised his head higher and closer to the trailer to keep the whole thing balanced because he didn't feel like face planting into the ground with his body and trailer pinning down his neck and head. Talk about awkward. He stopped growling when he saw the enormous warehouse and realized that this must be his final location. He wasn't going to be traveling anywhere again. The permanence of the place was depressing. It looked far more sturdy then that other building he was in and it was in a huge flat land with nowhere to hide even if he did escape from the place. They'd be able to shoot him down before he could get halfway to the closest cover. He squinted into the distance. No discernible landmarks anywhere to tell him where he was in relation to home. Any of them.
Dean was, however, relieved to be getting a wider confinement where he can at least turn around easily. That was something. More bipeds came around. Some even took pictures instead of picking up a gun. He looked at the camera and growled low. Dean began to feel very tired suddenly. All the action sped up the process of the herb based anesthetic.
Castiel leaped out of his chair at the first sound of the deep yelp, and was out his door before the roar. He ran outside to watch with awe at the length of the neck and the sharpness of his head as it emerged from the rocking trailer. This is his first sight of the dragon without anything in the way. He had been given photographs of it when the dragon was in the General's care, but the flash on a camera only goes 20 feet, and at 10 feet outside of the semi box, the scaled and spike ridged neck ended and the massive, horned and spiked head snapped and roared at anyone that got close. The trailer listed towards that side, and the dragon seemed to read Castiel's mind because he lifted his head and neck just then to keep the trailer from falling. The head spun around towards the warehouse. Castiel though it was eyeballing him and he stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at the monster but slowly realized it was focusing his scrutinizing gaze past him. Castiel locked onto the head that lowered and sighed, every exhale loosing some height and energy as it slowly rested on the ground, rolling on its side. The dragon was fast asleep. It would be 10 full minutes before anyone moved towards it. The thing laid there, dormant, snoring softly with his eyes half open. This freaked many of the men out as they thought he was faking it and would lunge again as soon as they got close enough.
Castiel however couldn't see the things eyes and could hear his snoring. After deciding that no one could fake a snore like that, he started to walk closer. A few men behind him borrowed his strength and followed him. Castiel knelt down very slowly and carefully next to the head and with a forced sense of calm, put his hand out. From this close, he could see why they nicknamed the thing Freckles. There were scores of small brown dots all over the cheeks and nose and along the underside of the neck leading into the trailer. The body beyond blocking the rest of its form. He was amazed that this thing was less then 5 months old. He gingerly touched the scaled cheek, expecting it to be rough but found it oddly silky. Like snakeskin. The softness was only on the more flexible parts of the face, around its jaw, eyes, nostrils and mouth, the rest turning hard like armor. Castiel made contact with the scales, holding a tense breath. Just waiting to loose his arm in the things mouth. No reaction.
Castiel let out the breath and stoked his hand from the cheek on back to his neck, feeling the pulse under the skin. The spikes along the animal's jaw became sharp then soft again around the weird fan ears. He held the leading edge in-between his hands and felt that they were not too ridged at the base, but the parts the flared out were. The longish spines between the thin flexible membrane of the fans. He toyed with it for a few seconds, finding out how they work to funnel sound waves into the ear canal. He wiped off his hands and distantly noticed that his team was hovering nearby. His attention was firmly set on the 400 lb head in front of him. It was bigger then he thought from the pictures and his own observations earlier. The dragon's head was at least 4 feet long from snout to the back of the skull, the horns going further for nearly a foot and a half. The whole thing looked like an arrow from above. Streamline. His hands now moved of their own accord as the next stroke went from his soft nose to the top of his head in soothing strokes. Castiel stood up and moved to the biggest part of the head and pulled the monster's head so it was right side up and closed the dragon's unseeing eyes to keep them from drying out.
This final act reassured the others that the monster was indeed asleep because no one was able to get anywhere near that close to him without fierce retribution. Castiel sat on his haunches looking and touching the monster's face for a short while. Once his curiosity was satisfied for now, Castiel stood and ordered the soldiers on loan to get the dragon back into the trailer. Hey had to open up the rear doors to the trailer and pull it back from the small door. A couple of caterpillars were used to pull on the dragon's hind legs. Castiel wished that his new cage was built already because this act of moving a dragon without a permanent, safe, holding cell was nerve wracking. It moaned slightly as several brave men went along his neck and lifted up their section and slowly put his back into the semi box. last to go into the trailer was his head held by 3 large men because it was so freakin' big. They flattened out his head as much as possible, taking care of the side fan ears and the spikes that aimed backwards from the front, and eased it in through the door and shut it and locked it. The rear hatch closed after the rear end was shoved back into the trailer along with the tail that had lazily flipped out. Some soldiers went for guns, thinking that it was awake but Castiel recognized it for what it was, just a sleepy adjustment into a better position. All of the men sighed once all of the trailers doors were shut, secured, and locked. Some fell where they stood, exhausted.
Castiel stood staring at the door and realized he may be in way over his head.
Dean woke the next morning to find himself partially covered in straw, with straw piled up all along the bottom and edges of his area. It was nice to have some cushioning, but he found himself longing for the other cage, the one with the foam padding. He mentally cringed at that. No way in hell is he gonna pine for the past. Best to ignore it and deal with whatever comes his way. Dean was still very tired and found that his limbs would not move freely but if he focused hard enough, he could move his head. He dragged it laboriously over the hay covered floor and looked first to his own body. Not tied or chained. Feet and hands were free to move if he had the strength. He crossed his eyes to his nose and found nothing binding his mouth shut. He looked back and there was nothing binding his wings either. Huh.
Dean rested for a minute, both his head and mind, considering what all this implies or could imply. He can move. They want him to be comfortable, otherwise they wouldn't have given him the hay for bedding. It was actually quite nice because once he got his strength back, he could make a nest out of it. That would be sweet. Without sticks and logs it wouldn't be a proper nest but still, at least he could make it how he likes it. A grin formed on his lips. The scent of the fresh hay was nice too. More earthy. His nose sunk into it and he inhaled the soft scents, eyes fluttering closed for a second. He lifted up his head a few inches from the ground and decided to watch the man that seemed to be in charge. Dean dragged his chin on the soft ground and finally rested it once it reached its destination. He sighed heavily and accidentally alerted some of the workers that he was indeed awake. He ignored them and continued to stare at Tan coat. Or what was his name again? Cassie? Too long. How about just Cas. That's more fitting, less girly. Dean just watched him in his office. The door ajar and the desk beyond aligned perfectly with his resting head.
It was a few minutes before Castiel realized this of course, he was working slowly through the old log reports for what little information they had saved on the massive beast. He sighed heavily himself at the mess and picked up his coffee to take a stroll around his warehouse. Still recovering from the night before when Balthazar questioned him mercilously and then had the gall to order him to bed. Going so far as to drugging him again. Castiel had a good idea what the ward in his charge felt like to be drugged against your will. Not the first time Castiel had been drugged into sleeping. A brief memory of his Ex-wife Meg popped unhelpfully into his mind and he sneered at nothing in particular as he tried to get her image out of his head again. She's long gone and nothing to him now. Disappeared off the face of the earth months ago. Balth admitted that he and his friends, Wes and Brandon did a search for her to royally bitch her out, but found no new leads.
Thoughtfully sipping his third cup of coffee that morning, he wandered over to the men working on the finishing touches to the thick bars of the large door/wall that were being welded back into place.
"Mornin'." he greeted one of the construction workers.
"Morning Sir, we should have this done before noon."
"And not a moment too soon." Another one piped up, "Your boyfriend is waking up, Sir." He chuckled good-naturedly.
Castiel squinted and cocked his head in confusion and glanced over to the other end of the cage. He was a little startled to see that the thing was staring directly at him. He walked to the left, and then the right and was amazed that it was watching him, and him alone.
"Remarkable." Castiel said and rested a hand on the thick iron bars.
"Just remember not to get this close to the cage when he is fully awake and alert. He can reach about a dozen feet further then these bars with that tail of his. His head can't get past them though, lucky for us. Those big ol' horns on his head are too spread out for it to fit. I recon' that he can get about most of it out, just behind his eyes but that's about it. His arms can fit to his shoulder, and though I doubt it, but he could pro'lly fit his legs out too up to the knee. his wings could stretch all the way out, but that's unlikely because he would have to be sitting or standing upright like a person to do it. Bottom line is, he can reach you, so don't get too comfortable getting this close in the future."
Castiel nodded thoughtfully and kept looking at the massive lump of mythical fire beast.
Dean grumbled a little at being on display again, but was less depressed then before. From what he could see, his new 'living quarters' were by far the largest they've ever been, and he was looking forward to finally stretching out. He lifted up his head and moved it slowly back to Cas's desk before the biped got there, not wanting to miss anything he did in there.
Castiel stopped in mid step when he realized what the dragon had done. He cautiously walked up to the cage, closest to its head. Their noses no more then 10 feet apart. The damned thing seemed to give a kind of understanding and intelligence. And though he felt a little foolish, Castiel considered making a formal introduction.
He waved at him and Dean blinked back, still drugged nearly out of his mind from the muscle relaxant. Dean's eyes trailed off to his left hand and it moved sideways on the ground. He bared his teeth at it and tried to lift his arm this time. Quickly giving a sideways glance at Cas, briefly forgetting that his teeth frighten most people, and he usually would be punished for showing them at all. But the tan coat wearing biped just stood there, sipping on his coffee, watching him as if he were an exotic zoo animal. Dean wondered if he was waiting for him to respond to the greeting, and he tried again. He had almost lifted up his heavy arm and was ready to move his hand when someone came up from behind Cas with some reports.
Dean gaped at the audacity of this newcomer, as he had almost made a real connection, with someone that he actually wanted to connect to, for the first time since Meg. He couldn't suppress a growl and hissed at this new person in agitation.
"Come on, Castiel, you don't want to stand too close to it. It's too dangerous. Let's talk in your office."
Dean raised his arm up high and growled for attention but to the bipeds it only looked like he was readying an attack. Other men backed up away from the cage and waited with guns trained and poised for the inevitable assault.
Castiel heard the sharp clacks of the rifles and stopped and turned back towards the cage. "Wait! Wait, you don't need to do that! He's penned up. That's the whole point of it, he can't hurt anyone anymore." Castiel explained, walking to the nervous armed men. He stood between them and the cage. "I don't want to see anyone pointing a gun at this thing. Not while I'm here.. and even if I'm not here." he added almost like an afterthought. As a leader you have to be crystal clear on your orders. If there is anything left for interpretation, then all hell could break loose.
"Sir, they have already been given orders to always be armed and ready. Would you deny these men the right to defend themselves?"
"He is not going to hurt anyone. Just be careful enough so that the guns are unnecessary." Castiel said, taking a quick glance at the dragon.
The thing almost seemed to be smiling at him, but the rest of the soldiers and even some of his own team were betting that the dragon was choosing their boss to be his first victim. 'What was that? No way in hell did the dragon just wave at me.' Castiel saw it out of the corner of his eye, but when he had turned around, it had to let its arm drop again to maintain his balance. His head too dropped down and he laid there, grinning tiredly at him.
"Remarkable." Castiel said again. He was ushered back to his desk where they continued to talk out of range of the others.
Dean grunted and dozed a little, knowing that it would probably be a little while before the boss would come out again. Maybe never. No point in exerting himself right now. After an hour, he heard the clang of some tools falling and jerked his head up to see what had happened. The workers were finished with his cage and he seemed to be able to move more freely now. His limbs were sore and he hesitated to stand up. First up for business, sitting on his haunches. It took a few tries but he was able to scoot his forelegs back one at a time and get his heavy head and neck up and balanced over his shoulders in a tight 'S' shape. 'There, sitting up like a pro. Good job. Now you can rest for a hot minute. That took a lot out of you.'
He shook off the straw that they had covered him with. Dean hadn't expected that kindness and wanted to thank whoever did that for him. The building did have a few heaters in it but they were closer to the biped's work stations. Dean could smell the hot metal coils coming from the boss's office as well. That would be sweet. Just curl up in there with the heaters. That tan coated Cas was lucky. Since it was cold outside it was chilly inside the warehouse, and Dean was mainly coldblooded, so he was sluggish and cold. A part of him wanted to continue to snuggle up in the warm straw but he wanted more to explore his new surroundings. He stretched out his front legs and clawed at the cement floor, leaving slight marks in its surface. He hefted his head and long neck forward and rested them on the ground while he straightened out his back legs and stiffened them to wake up the muscles. The joints ached a little but the more he stretched them he could feel them loosen. The muscles jumping over the bones and back again as he tensed and released them. Pins and needles. Everywhere. He pushed his forelegs back again one clumsy step at a time and was standing up again for the first time in days. Wings still drooping to the floor like he was covered in a blanket. Focus on the main stuff first. The biggest muscles then work the way on down.
He took some steps forward to be able to stretch out his tail to its full length as well. It was still very much asleep. He must have been laying on it. Dean moved his head over to the bars and tried to look up at his horns, knowing he couldn't see them but his body tried anyway. He knew he could not fit his whole head through the bars, but he decided to use the bars to help crack the length of his neck. So, he hooked the horns onto the bars, biting onto a lower part of the same bar and gave a quick pulling twisting motion of his neck and shoulders. He felt the string of pings travel all the way down and up his neck to the back of his head which now felt a little dizzy with the shock and relief of the built up tension. A series of loud cracks had been heard echoing around the room. He pulled his horns back out, scooted back a couple of feet and bit the bars ahead of him again aligning his head, neck, and spine, in a roughly horizontal line, and did a similar move with his spine. his wings were awake enough to lift out at his sides and flapped side to side to facilitate this back cracking movement and he licked his lips after letting go of the iron bars. He heaved a few heavy breaths and bounced his back up and down to get those last stubborn few vertebra. Another dizzy spell. He stood still for a moment until it passed.
Next up, was his perpetually curled tail. He was amazed that he did not have to curl his neck to stretch out his tail and was now able, for the first time in memory, move every limb, wing, and his tail and neck to its absolute fullest length, and not touch a single thing besides the floor and ceiling. If he could laugh, he would have been in heaven. A series of huffs came out instead and he grinned like a loon. It would take a few days to let his bones and muscles get used to this wonderful freedom of movement but he would relish and enjoy every second of it.
Dean noticed that a fair number of bipeds were videotaping him, and writing down his every action on notepads. He sneered at them but wouldn't allow them to take away this new-found pleasure. A couple of them walked to the front of the cage and posed for a picture, with him as the background. He ignored them too, and after a few minutes of standing and stretching he flapped his wings at them, messing up the next round of photos. He grinned at them, as they laughed and shot more and more footage. At first, the cameras were documenting, but now they were fooling around. He noticed a large group photo was in the works, and since his cage filled up most of the warehouse, they had to back up nearly right next too it for the photographer to get everyone in the pic. He paced back and forth, watching these short bipeds scurry about excitedly in front of him, trying to find the people they wanted to stand next to. Like excited puppies. Then he saw Cas exit his office, leaning against the frame and drinking something brown from a clear glass. He wanted him to join in the group shot and let out a quick roar at him as invitation.
Nearly all of the soldiers went for their guns and were aiming them right at his head. Startled, he backed up and roared at Cas again out of fear. If anyone could save him that biped could. He ordered them yesterday to stand down. Dean backed up from the soldiers and whine growled at Cas, 'help me? I just wanted you to join in and now they wanna shoot me!'
Castiel angrily strode over to the cage and shoved the men out of the way to stand in-between the cage and them again. But this time he was pissed.
"Is there any one among you that know how to take orders? Stay away from this monster or else you will all be killed!" He shouted and jabbed a finger up at the dragon. He then addressed the ones that were still standing close to the cage. "What the hell do you think you are doing? He can reach out and rip you to shreds before you've even realized you're screwed! Give me that camera!" he demanded, and some of the men who had posed for the pictures quickly made themselves scarce. He scrolled through the shots and frowned at each one. "Are we paying you to fool around?" he cussed under his breath and deleted most of the pictures that had men in them that were clearly not for documentation. He paused at one and noticed the dragon in the background. He zoomed into his head and stood there, quiet for a moment. Ignoring the three men in the front, he saw that the dragon had his tongue hanging out and one eye squinting with the side fan ears spread wide. He wondered if it was just poor timing, or if the thing was actually making a goofy face at them to ruin their picture. What did Balth call it? A photograph bomb?
"No, he's not smart enough to know what a photo is." Castiel muttered to himself.
Dean heard him and hung his head, moaning softly. Dean dearly wanted to apologize for the misbehaving, but instead told himself that it wasn't him that was goofing off. The dragon didn't have a job to shrug off, besides just being what he is, and he could do that in his sleep.
Castiel turned around, frowning at the monster in clear disappointment. "I really thought we had something here, but he might be a dumb critter after all." he stated, letting the hand holding the camera fall to his side.
Dean's heart sunk at that and he laid down, curling his head down and close to his side and covered it up with a wing. Hiding from the shame of being a stupid animal. His fears now confirmed. If someone like Cas thought he was dumb, then it must be true. Cas ruled over everyone here, he knows what he's talking about. If he thinks Dean is stupid, then he is. Dean could have cried. He felt abandoned all over again.
Meanwhile, the others were going back to their duties and when the boss turned back to his office, they hastily deleted the photos they had taken of themselves with the dragon before they were found out as well. The few that had been caught were soon ordered to do manure detail. A few, as apology, volunteered to feed the dragon and soon Dean smelled fresh dead cow being flung into his cage. The wet smack of its flesh against the cement sounded anything but appetizing. He could tell that the chunks were huge, as much biped grunting could be heard before the sound of it landing. He refused to eat. That would give them the idea that he forgives them for getting him in trouble as well. Tricking the stupid, mindless beast. How cruel could bipeds be?
After a few quiet hours had passed, Dean lifted his wing up again and noticed that the place was clearing out of bipeds. Equipment being shut off, stowed away or set up for the next morning. The sun was setting and the door to Cas' office was again opened. He held a square bag with a long strap around his shoulder with the tan coat in that hand and fiddled for his car keys with the other. Clearly exhausted from the day and longing for a warm bed. This warehouse was still too empty and cold feeling. He locked up his office and felt the chill in the air before he even got close to open up the warehouse door to the outside. Must be freezing out there.
Castiel took a few steps away from his office and looked towards the monster in the cage. Feeling a little bad that he couldn't heat up the warehouse better for the huge thing. It probably doesn't even care about the temperature. At least it's inside now, unlike that zoo he was told about. He was not allowed every report on the monster, his level of need to know info only goes as far as Michael's. Which is to say, not very. Michael made sure to share as much as he could, but given that the military only had the dragon for a week or so, they only had so much to give. They gathered information from his previous location, the zoo from down south, but what happened there was anyone's guess. Only the dragon and God knows what happened there for sure. Clear evidence of torture was everywhere, but what they did exactly was a mystery. How far did his previous owners go in 'training' him?
Castiel most certainly did not want to think about that just before leaving for home and his waiting bed. He already had a hard enough time sleeping, he needed a full nights sleep tonight and nightmares are not on the menu. He gave the dragon a quick appraising survey to make sure it was still alive and well.
Dean saw the boss man leave his office and went to attention, standing up and facing him with all the respect that the boss deserves. Once he got Cas's attention, Dean hung his head down low to be eye to eye with the short man. He gave a very soft mewling growl, almost like a croon as he apologized over and over again. Dean no longer hated the workers, and found most of them to be innocuous and easily ignored. He was anticipating, not looking forward to but simply expecting, some form of physical torment but received none for his bad behavior. Granted, he did not receive any commands really, but he felt as though he was letting them down. He wished they would make his rules clear so he would know what not to do. He got the, 'do not interrupt photo's' law pretty damned clear. After a moments consideration, he wondered if it was his call to the boss that got him in trouble. Ok, no more roaring for attention. The white coats that all worked along the opposite wall were alright. He guessed. Some bipeds here, he liked, they smelled nice and friendly. He just wished that all of them could see him as more then just their job. Keeping him fed, his cage's area and his body clean, keeping him healthy. Happy might never come into the job description. He'd just have to live with that. Maybe the boss man will be happy with him and that will make Dean happy...
Castiel was about to leave but then turned to face the dragon's cage again. Something in the way it sounded. Longing tones underneath the growls. The dragon got down onto his belly and made a friendly sound at him, almost like a purring chirp that a cat would do. Castiel walked over, but stayed away from the red painted line on the floor, indicating the furthest the dragon could reach out of the cage.
Dean frowned at the line and wished that he would come closer. He backed up, trying to give Cas the impression that he was not after his little body of meat, but his friendship instead. Everyone always assumed he wanted to eat biped. That's just stupid and wrong on so many levels. Their fears were only based in how he looked and acted and not on his track record. He only eats animals and bad monsters. Chewing some monsters up in self defense. Never regular ol' bipeds. Sure he's thought about it, but thinking and following through are two very different things.
Dean slowly sat upright in front of Cas, still bowing his head to keep his nose out of the way, and lifted up his arm. He glanced at his hand and tried to remember what the move was again that Cas had done at him earlier.
Castiel cocked his head at the dragon and put down his briefcase and coat over top. He stood there and watched.
Dean snorted in slight frustration at not being able to remember and looked to him for a clue. Cas raised up his hand, mirroring Dean's. Dean lifted up his nose to regard his new boss more clearly and both of their eyes brightened. He lifted his head like Dean's, again mirroring and wondered what he was trying to communicate.
"What are you thinking about in that big ol' head of yours." Castiel wondered aloud.
Dean now mirrored him and made his mouth move in a similar way, growling and clucking his tongue, trying to form the same sounds that Cas was making.
Castiel shook his head at him and bent down to pick up his briefcase and coat again. He faced him and waved a goodbye.
Dean grinned and moved his raised hand side to side just like the boss did.
Castiel dropped everything, and then fell backwards to the floor. To frightened and stunned to stand. He gaped at the confused dragon and started to crawl away from it, kicking his feet in front of him. "What the hell just happened?" he quaked.
"Boss! Boss, you ok?" An engineer came running over and helped Castiel to his feet. "What happened? Did he hit you?" he asked, checking Castiel over for injuries. He then spun around and gave an angry look to the dragon who was also nervous and scared of his friend hurting himself. He roared at him to stand up again and show that he was unharmed.
"Just get me out of here." Castiel said to the engineer.
Dean lunged at the bars, so desperate to reconnect with the man. 'It wasn't a fluke!' he wanted to explain. Dean could not loose this chance to show him that he was smart. He punched at the bars with a fist and roared at the two of them to stay instead of what they were doing, which was running away. He paced the cage and sat down dejectedly when his calls went ignored. That old feeling of rejection thrumming through his very soul. He felt water in his eyes, threatening to fall, and he hung his head low. Worthless. Garbage.
Castiel turned to look at his one last time and could have sworn he saw the dragon crying before it curled up away from them and sighed heavily. Breath broken with rumbling growls. Probably from intense anger. The cold. No way in hell was that a sad noise. The thing just attacked the bars and roared at him. Gotta be more careful.
"That's jus' how he killed that other man." The engineer said in a gravely tone, "Lured him in close and then ate him up."
"He what?"
"Yeah. Well, not whole. He bit his face clean off of his skull. That's how you got his so cheap. No one wants to deal with a murderin' dragon. Hell, I'm surprised they didn't just put his down."
Castiel stumbled a few steps, reluctantly remembering the nickname that he had from the previous owners. "Man-eater." They gave the impression it was a simple nickname, like calling a pitbull 'killer', but in this case, he probably lived up to the name. Just looking at it, you could see the threat it exudes. Even if it wasnt enormous with huge claws, teeth and horns, its temperament and reactions were all over the place. Quick to anger, unpredictable, bi-polar probably. Certainly broken. As all his previous handlers had been suggesting. He shuddered to think about the times when he had gotten too close, how it could have killed him with ease.
"No more treating him like a pet. I'm gonna see to it that everyone knows hes a killer." Castiel said, getting into his car.
"Rest up, Boss. Long day tomorrow." the engineer tipped his hat and shrugged on his coat tighter, going to his truck as Castiel started for his car.
"Goodnight." he called over and looked back to the warehouse and the night guard that waved him off. "'Night." he said to no one in particular.
Dean looked to the door as it firmly shut behind the two bipeds. 'Goodbye.' he mumble growled at the retreating forms. He wondered if the boss would come back again. Hoping he would give him a second chance.
