Chapter 12

Sam drove Cas to a car rental place so that he could go back to the bunker in the Impala. He shouldn't have taken it without Dean's permission in the first place. Cas wanted to go back with him, but he didn't want Dean to know what he was up to, so he agreed that he and Metatron would travel alone to retrieve his grace.

As Sam pulled away, Cas shoved Metatron into the back of his rental and began dialing Dean's number, pacing a bit as he did so. He knew Dean wouldn't be very happy with him.

"Cas? What the fuck, Man? Where are you?" Dean asked. He had picked up after just one ring.

"Dean, I'm fine. I'm sorry I didn't call earlier. I've been busy…"

"It's ok… When are you coming home? I miss you…" Dean sighed into the receiver.

"I'm not sure. Soon, I hope."

Dean was quite. After a beat he spoke, "Why'd you take the Impala? I went out to the garage to work on her and she was gone…"

"I don't know… It may sound a bit… strange, but my time on Earth has made me… sentimental. It… She, uh, smells like you so…"

"It made you scent- imental?" Dean laughed at his own joke. "Seriously though… I'll make an excuse for you this time, babe, but for the love of god don't ever take my car without asking first, ok?" Dean said, not sounding very angry. He didn't know the full extent of how Cas was lying to him. Cas felt an uncomfortable tightness in the pit of his stomach.

"Dean… I have to go," Cas said, looking at Metatron in the backseat. He still had a job to do. And he didn't like having to lie to Dean.

"Yeah, ok. Take care of yourself."

"You too…" Cas said, hanging up the phone.


"Bye…" Dean said even though Cas was already gone.

Dean looked down at his phone. No goodbye? Just hangs up like a fucking moron. Love you too asshole, he thought. He was going to have to teach Cas proper phone procedure.

The second he put his phone back into his pocket, however, he felt it buzz again. Charlie.

"Winchester Accounting. How may I help you?" Dean said, snapping back into his default surly-ness.

"Dean?" Charlie huffed. Her breath sounds strained.

"Charlie? What's going on? Where are you?" Dean asked, suddenly playing big-brother again. All thoughts of Cas leaving his mind.

"I'm, uh, exhausted… and I'm bleeding. And I'm in a phone booth. A phone booth. Not a working one, mind you… I took a nap in here. In a phone booth. I didn't know these things existed outside Bill and Ted…"

"Okay, hey, take a deep breath, kiddo. Tell me what happened. Why are you bleeding?" Dean asked, pacing around the library.

"I, uh, got shot." Shit . "Did you know dental floss works great on stitches? I only passed out twice. And I'm pretty sure my wound is now minty fresh so…"

"Tell me where you are. I'm coming to get you," Dean said, heading towards the garage.

"No time. I need to get someplace safe. Those guys are still after me…"

"What guys? Who?"

"Some southern fried douche bags. They've been after me since I dug up The Book of the Damned," Charlie explained, "I broke into some museums and found historical documents and, uh, went to some burnt down monastery in Spain."

"Wait, you're in Spain?" Dean asked, confused.

"What? No. I'm back. But, um… The Book. The language it's written in… I've never seen anything like it. Looks like some kind of spell book for undoing damnation... If we translate this thing, I think we can get rid of the Mark of Cain, Dean."

"God I love you! You're a fucking genius, Charlie!"

"Yeah, and a motherfracking fugitive. I've still got these dudes tracking me."

"Do you have any idea who they're working for?" Dean asked.

"No clue. Some sort of family business maybe? I spotted at tattoo on one of them, seemed occulty. They've been after me since the monastery. I think they're tracking the Book somehow…" Charlie said, sounding scared.

"Alright, we're gonna need to get you off the grid. Where are you?"

"Um, just south of Des Moines…"

"You know our friend Bobby? He had a whole bunch of cabins, safe houses, scattered all over, places for hunters to crash. He had one outside Des Moines, you think you can make it there?"

"Ok, yeah… bring snacks," Charlie said, laughing lightly. "And Dean? This book is scary. I've never seen anything like it..."

"Don't worry. We'll figure it out," Dean said, as Sam walked into the library.

"Sorry, nobody here by that name," he said, hanging up his cell as soon as he noticed Dean.


"Can I just kill him now?" Cas said into the receiver. He had called Sam fifteen minutes after getting off the phone with Dean. Metatron was driving him up a wall.

"You know I can hear you, right?" Metatron said from the back seat.

Sam shifted the Impala into park and turned her off. "No, we need him alive for now," he said with a sigh. "Look, after he gives you your grace back you can do whatever you want with him."

"Well, I'd like to kill him slowly," Cas said, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

"I am like two feet behind you!" Metatron shouted.

Castiel ignored him. "We need to find a cure for Dean."

"I know, I'm at the bunker now. I'm sure we'll figure something out, Cas."

"I don't know why you'd want to cure that cute little firecracker now that he's finally interesting," Metatron said.

Without taking his eyes off the road, Cas swung his fist back and punched him in the knee. Hard.

"Sam-" Cas started to say but he was cut off.

"Sorry, nobody here by that name," he said, hanging up.

"What? Sam? Hello? Are you still there?"

"Lose reception or did he hang up on you?" Metatron teased. When Cas didn't say anything he continued. "He hung up on you, didn't he?" Metatron laughed.

Cas punched him again.


Dean found a lead lined and warded curse box in the storage room. It might come in handy to keep the Book from being tracked. He and Sam grab their laptops and the two brothers head out to Bobby's cabin. Dean is more than a little suspicious that the Impala is now parked in the Bunker's garage, he thought Cas had taken it, but he's had his fill of the two closest people in his life lying to him. So he doesn't ask. Not yet, anyway.

The Book is creepy, but Dean can't stop staring at it. It's like he's in a trance or something. He can feel it calling out to him, somehow. It vibrates in his hand, tingling the Mark on his arm. What the fuck is going on? he thinks as he hands the Book back to Charlie.

Dean began researching the Family while Charlie and Sam worked on decoding the Book, because, as it turned out, the Book was not only written in some ancient dead language, but also in code. Normally, Dean would be proud of his geek brother and almost-sister, but for some reason all he wants to do is touch the Book again; trace his fingers down the spine, smell it… Fucking weird, he knows it but he just can't help himself.

Noticing his brother's strange longing glare, Sam decided to put the Book away in the curse box. They can work off their notes, just to be safe.

"Check this out," Dean broke the silence about an hour later. He was pointing at the screen on his laptop, at one of the Men of Letter's files he and Sam had digitized. "Those people following you, All kinds of wrong. Talking multi-generational, centuries old, wrong… The Styne family. Men of Letters' files date back to the early 1800s. They used spells to create disease and shit. They even helped out the fucking Nazis before they came into power. And all the spells they used came from a book of 'unspeakable evil' which they lost nearly a hundred years ago," he said, his hands noticeably shaking.

"Ok. So they're bad. So what? We've faced worse," Sam said encouragingly.

"Sam, read the file. The way the books works is when you use it… there is a negative reaction. I'm talking biblical negative. Dark magic always comes with a price. We knowthat. We've been down this road before…"

"Well, let's at least translate it. See what it says," Charlie added, trying to be optimistic. Typical Charlie.

"No. You guys don't understand. The Book's been calling out to me ever since I laid eyes on it. Calling out to the Mark. It's like… It's alive. And it wants me to use it. But not for good, ok? Look, I wanted it to be the answer too. I really did. But we've got to get rid of it. Burn it or something. We have to find another way to fix the Mark…" Dean said, his voice shaking.

"So, what? You just giving up?" Charlie asked, sympathetically.

"No. I'm not giving up. I don't have a death wish, ok you guys! Even if I did, I can't die. Not with this thing on my arm. All I can do is fight it as long as I can until…"

"Until what, Dean? Tell me. Until I watch you become a demon again? I can't do that. I won't do that," Sam said, his voice tense.

"Well then you'll just have to lock me up. Bind me in the dungeon like you did last time," Dean said. It was the only solution.

"No, Dean. That doesn't solve anything!" Sam shouted. "Look, just let us translate the Book. If there's a cure we have to do it, damn the consequences. I can't lose you…"

"You change your mind on that? Cause that's not what you said last time," Dean said bitterly, remembering how his brother was willing to watch him die when he was pumping him full of demon-cure. That it was a "risk he was willing to take."

"You know I didn't mean that…"

"Oh really?" Dean gruffed. "This is my cross to bear, Sam! And that book is not the answer. We got to destroy it before it falls into the wrong hands, and that includes me! I'm going for a drive," he said, pulling on his jacket and heading towards the door.

After slamming the door of the Impala shut, and backing out of the dirt driveway, Dean realized that they forgot to get Charlie snacks. Shit. He couldn't do anything right, could he?

He pulled into a convenience store after filling up on gas. It was the least he could do after exposing Charlie to his bullshit family drama.

At the cash register, he noticed the clerk had the Styne's family crest tattooed on his arm. I've got you asshole , he thought as he reached for the pistol tucked into his pants. But suddenly a guy came out of nowhere and tackled Dean to the ground, knocking over shelves of candy as he went down. Dean unloads his clip into the guy, and finally, he goes down.


"Oh my me! Food! Glorious food!" Metatron said in between bites. He and Castiel were at a diner, against Cas's better judgment. But Metatron had to eat. And Cas needed Metatron to find his grace. So he complied.

The former scribe continued, "All the countless descriptions in so many books, but those are just words. Oh! The taste! The actual taste! I had no idea… Oh, and the process. Goes in the mouth and comes out the… well… it's sorcery! I mean, you used to be human. Don't you miss it?"

"Why would I miss digestion?" Cas asked, his patience wearing thin.

"No no no! Not that. I mean… Don't you miss the feeling of the mundane? Like the taste of these waffles? Like sleep? The nap I took in the car was fabulous! I dreamed and everything! No wonder you still cling so tightly to humanity! It is bliss... You know, you and I have a lot in common. Two angels in deep with humanity, " he said, taking another bite, moaning and closing his eyes and he did so. It was disgusting.

"Don't," Cas growled. He was in no humor.

"What? I thought we were having a moment? Can we be besties?"

"No. You killed my boyfriend, if you recall," Cas said, his lips a hard line. His hands were fists by his side.

"Oh, Dean is fine. Mostly. Can't you get past that?"

"Never," Cas said, his eyes dark. "I get the feeling you're stalling, Metatron."

"Can you blame me? The minute I hand over your grace, I'm dead," he said with a shrug.

"You have made your bed, Metatron, and nothing is going to get you out of it," he said as the other man put down his fork and clutched his stomach, groaning and moving to get up. "What are you doing?" Cas asked, annoyed.

"I think I need to use the little boys' room," he said, holding up his handcuffed hands with pleading eyes.

This is not going to be pleasant , Cas thought as he lead Metatron to the bathroom.

"Sorry about the mess," Metatron said as they left the diner. "I guess I'm lactose intolerant."

"Let's never speak of it again," Cas said giving the man a shove.

A man was leaning against Cas's rental car. "Metatron and Castiel. This really must be my lucky day. Two birds, one blade," he said, pulling an angel blade from his denim jacket.

"Who are you?" Cas asked, revealing his blade as well.

"Just a cupid. Just an angry, angry cupid," the man said, taking a step forward.

"I understand you're upset," said Cas, raising a hand to calm the man.

"No. You both corrupted Heaven," he said, trying to strike Cas with his blade.

As Cas evaded his attacker, the man approached Metatron with his blade. Cas hesitated for a second, but he still needed Metatron alive so he tackled the man, knocking him down. They wrestle on the ground and the cupid pushes his blade towards Cas's face, it is inches away, being held back by Cas's own hands. It digs into the skin of his palm as he pushes the blade back. But just then, the man on top of him lights up and goes limp as Metatron stabs him with a blade that was dropped in the scuffle.

"This changes nothing," Castiel gruffed, taking the blade form Metatron and ushering him back to the car.


"Oh come on. You expect me to believe that you hid my grace in a library?" Cas asked the ex-scribe skeptically.

"Nobody goes to libraries anymore. It's the safest place in the world," replied Metatron.

"Sam does. And I'm pretty sure Charlie does too…" Cas retorted, walking into the building's lobby. "I can feel my grace. It's here but you've hidden it somehow. Where is it?" Castiel asked as he turned on the lights, illuminating rows and rows of books. It was a good thing this wasn't a 24-hour college library. He's pretty sure, despite Metatron's comment, that people still go to those .

"Honestly, I have no idea," Metatron said. Liar! Cas thought as he pushed him roughly into a nearby computer chair and applied pressure to his gunshot wound.

"Where is it?!" he growled, digging his finger into the still-fresh bullet hole.

"I don't know! I don't know! I swear!" the pathetic man begged. "I had another angel hide it, even from me. You know, in case someone tried to torture the information out of me!"

Cas still wasn't buying it. He pulled out his blade and touched it to the man's throat. "Where is my grace?" he asked again.

"I told the angel to hide clues in some of my favorite books," he smugly held up his handcuffed wrists. "Mother may I?" he asked with a smirk.

Cas grabbed him by the arm and roughly forced him into a standing position, and allowed the man to limp over to a shelf and pull out a book. Cas tore the book from the man's hand and began flipping through it. A note fell out.

"'What is the maddest thing a man can do?' It's a riddle? What… What's the answer?" he asked, not fond of riddles. He recalled his "speak 'friend' and enter" moment with Sam over a year ago. "'Why is six afraid of seven?' I assume it's because seven is a prime number and prime numbers can be intimidating."

"Beats me. I've only been a man a day," Metatron shrugged. "The answer to the riddle should lead to another book, and inside that book you'll find your grace… We're gonna work this out together, okay? Teamwork… You know, we really do make a good team. Kind of like a buddy comedy, without the comedy."

"Or the buddies," Cas said humorously.

"Oh, now, come on! Back at the diner, that was some pretty awesome dynamic-duo action!"

"Shut up and keep looking," Cas said, not sure if he was referring to their fight in the parking lot or the unfortunate events that transpired in the restroom.

The men find another book with another note. Castiel realizes that they are not riddles at all, but quotes. But it's too late, Metatron is standing over him with a stone tablet.

"Did you and Samateur hour really think I wouldn't have a backup plan?" he said as Cas reached for another book, knocking it off the shelf. His grace falls out, he grabs for it quickly.

"Oh the places I will go with this," Metatron snickered as he left with the tablet.

"What's the maddest thing a man can do?" Cas asked himself once Metatron was out of earshot. "Let himself die." And with that Cas opened the bottle containing his grace and it entered him in a flash of smoky light. He had his full power back.


Cas drove the rental car back to the bunker. He'd return it tomorrow. Right now, he just wanted to see Dean.

He found them in the livingroom, Dean, Sam, and Charlie, with pizza and beer. A movie he recognized, thanks to Metatron, but had never actually seen for himself was playing on the screen.

When Dean noticed him, he beamed. He wordlessly got up and crossed the room, engulfing him in a hug.

"It's stupid how much I missed you," he whispered into the angel's ear.

Now it is Cas's turn to beam. It was ridiculous how out of control his once-suppressed emotions got when he was with Dean. His time on Earth had made him more emotional in general, but with Dean he felt human again, and not in a bad way.

Dean lead him over to the couch by the hand, offering him a beer. He took it, wanting to be a part of the group, and sat down between Dean and Charlie.

"You're looking a lot better," Sam commented from his chair.

"I am… I was able to locate my grace," he said. Noticing the way Charlie was slumping beside him, he reached out his hand to touch her side, healing her wound.

"Did we just become best friends?" Charlie asked, quoting a movie Cas recognized as "Step Brothers." He realized the movie was in the same vein as the "buddy comedy" Metatron had referred to back at the library.

"So, is that where you were?" Dean asked him, gesturing at Charlie.

"Um, it was Hannah. She managed to get the location of the remainder of my Grace out of Metatron. I guess I still have allies in Heaven…" he lied.

If Dean didn't believe him, he didn't let it show. He simply nodded and continued to watch the movie. "Raiders of the Lost Ark" he recognized it. Even though he missed the first half of the movie, he found himself enjoying it. It had the same actor who played Han Solo and it was, admittedly, very exciting. Much better than Star Wars in his opinion. Treasure hunting wasn't all that different from monster hunting. Much easier to wrap his head around.

As soon as the film ended, Dean took Cas by the hand and lead him to his bedroom. Cas felt nervous, it wasn't that he didn't want to be alone with his boyfriend, it was just that they had barely touched the whole movie. He didn't know if it was the Mark or if Dean was angry with him.

Dean closed the door behind him and turned to face Castiel, arms folded across his chest. Still angry.

"I don't like you lying to me, man," Dean said, giving Cas a hard look.

"I know… I just…" Cas stammered, taking a seat on the bed. Dean did not follow.

"Sam was with you, wasn't he?" he asked as Cas looked down at his folded hands in his lap. "Well, next time you're gonna be sneaky don't take the Impala. Dead giveaway."

Yes. That was stupid, Cas thought, still unable to look at Dean. If he hadn't taken the Impala then maybe he'd have gotten away with the lie. No, Dean would have figured it out anyway.

"Hey," Dean spoke as he approached the bed, sitting down next to him. "Just be honest with me, babe," he said, his green eyes studying him.

So Cas confessed everything. He confessed that he had been going behind his back, that he had been working with Metatron, that Metatron had gotten away.

"I never intended to lie to you… It was Sam's idea… I've just been worried about you… about us," Cas looked up and met Dean's eyes as he spoke.

"Of course it was Sammy's idea," he chuckled darkly. "I'll deal with him later," he said, placing a hand on Cas's knee and kissing him softly.

"You're not mad?" Cas asked, shyly.

"I am a little, but I trust that you're just looking out for me," Dean said, kissing along Cas's jaw.

"Then I trust you know, that from the moment I laid hands on you, that you've been my biggest concern. No matter what happened, you, you were my priority," Cas whispered.

Their kissing went from soft and sweet to rough and passionate and desperate.

"I gave up everything, for one man. You. Because you are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, in all my millennia of existence…" he said as he gently pushed Dean so that Cas was lying on top of him. "I need you. I don't need air, or food, or water, but I need Dean Winchester."

"You can have me," Dean said meekly. His green eyes were bright and trusting as he spoke. "You can have all of me."

Cas threw off his trenchcoat and began to slowly unbutton his shirt, revealing the tanned flesh underneath.

"Take off your shirt," he instructed and Dean did, quickly, seeming to enjoy being told what to do.

Cas ran a finger along the chest of the man below him, flicking a nipple on his way down to his navel. He brought his hand down to the crotch of Dean's jeans, feeling him stiffen beneath his touch.

"Is this what you want?" Cas growled lowly, squeezing slightly. Dean nodded and Cas began to unbuckle his belt. "Are you sure? We could watch another movie instead," he teased as he unzipped Dean's fly, liking the playful torture more than he should.

"I want you to take me. I want to feel you inside me," Dean gruffed.


"Is this what you want?" his angel asked on top of him, his fingers squeezing around his cock. Dean gulped and nodded. God he wanted this. "Are you sure? We could watch another movie instead," his angel growled and unzipped his jeans.

Dean shuttered. He wanted it. He wanted all of it. "I want you to take me. I want to feel you inside me," he grunted.

Cas kissed his neck. "Can I try something?" he asked with a sheepish grin.

Dean barely had a chance to nod when Cas closed his eyes, concentrating. Suddenly, they were both naked, except for the samulet that still hung around Cas's neck.

"God you have no idea how hot that is," Dean whimpered.

Cas hummed as he brushed his fingers along Dean's thigh, teasing again.

"Please Cas..." Dean choked out. He was going to go crazy if the angel didn't touch him, like, now.

Cas's strong fingers began to stroke him off, and Dean twitched every time he bushed his thumb against the head, come beading at the tip.

Cas reaches for the lube in the bedside table and only then does Dean worry about condoms. He's a fucking angel of the Lord you doof, you don't need a condom.

Cas instructs him to lay on his stomach. Dean's done his research. He knows this is the easiest position for his first time, but even so he'd still like to look at his angel. Next time, he thinks.

He props himself up and positions himself on his hands and knees.

"Are you sure this is something you'd like to do?" Cas asked genuinely as he squeezed lube into his hands, wetting his fingers.

"Yes," Dean whispered, nervous, as Cas stroked a finger along Dean's crack.

Dean has never told a soul what torture he experienced in Hell. He never told Sammy, or even Cas how the demons had fucked him bloody. Raped him. He had a feeling Cas knew, the way he was being so gentle with him proved that. He knew that Cas wouldn't feel bad if Dean asked him to stop. But he didn't want him to stop. The angel's sweet tenderness was everything Dean had always wanted.

Cas slipped his finger in, causing Dean to gasp. He steadied himself, trying to relax. Cas sensed this and began rubbing Dean's back. Coaxing him into letting him slip another slick finger inside of him.

This was Cas. Castiel. An angel. The man he was certain he loved even though he hadn't had the courage to tell him. He was okay. He was okay. He relaxed a little more as Cas began thrusting his fingers inside of him, stretching him out, until he had three fingers slipping in and out of him.

Cas got up and pressed his weight into Dean's back, his cock grazing along his crack. "We don't have to do this, Dean. Not unless you're sure you want to," Cas softly spoke into his ear, kissing the side of his head tenderly.

"Shut up and take me already," Dean growled with false confidence. He really did want this and he knew that if he was too hesitant that the angel would back off.

He felt the head of Cas's cock press against his entrance and slowly slide in. It hurt, but not in a bad way, and he tried to relax against the kisses Cas was plastering him with along the back of his neck.

Cas sinks in further until his balls are pressed tight against Dean's ass. He gives him a second to compose himself before he starts thrusting, angling so that each pass rubs against Dean's prostate.

"Oh god, Cas…" Dean hisses pleasurably at the new sensation.

He feels Cas's hand on his cock, the other hand tightly gripping at his arm, where the handprint used to be. Cas begins stroking rhythm with his thrusts, turning Dean into a shaking, writhing mess. He can feel the heat growing in his belly as Cas begins to move faster, and faster until he comes into his hand, spilling onto the bed. He feels Cas twitching inside of him, coming almost in unison.

Damn, he could get used to this.

End of chapter 12