Title: Child's Play
Author: HigherMagic
Pairings: Demon!Dean/Demon!Sam, Dean/Fallen!Castiel, Dean/Kushiel (OFC), Adam/Anael (Anna), OMCs/Uriel, Castiel/Balthazar (past)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~ 2800
Spoilers: None (This is AU)
Summary: Breaking Angels is never easy but Dean makes it look like child's play.
Notes/Warnings: Lots of bloody, gory, evil boys doing stuff to each other.
Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.
Also, Anael was going to be an OFC, but people kept thinking she was Anna. I mean, it wouldn't work like that because if Dean was never pulled out of Hell then Anna would never have heard the 'Dean Winchester Is Saved' thing, but then maybe when the war started she would have heard…Anyway, Anael wasn't going to be Anna, but she is now.
ANNND, in the Bal episode, Castiel said 'I thought he died in the war'. This is what my take on this is. If it's wrong, just bear with me (because it's just a plan I'm fitting with the canon of this story, so it's probably wrong) *shrugs*
Kushiel.
She's got fight to her. Dean likes that. He likes when she hisses and spits at him, straining against chains of salted iron that won't affect her…but the Enochian sigils carved into them will. They burn into her vessel's neck and the scent of her room is of burning flesh, even more so when Dean takes her whip of fire and wraps it around his own palm, branding his name and his own sigils into her flesh. Her arms, her face, between her legs when he pushes them apart and fucks her. It's been a long time since he had a woman. He'd almost forgotten how wet they got when you treated them right, how high-pitched their screams were when you didn't.
She falls stupidly quickly, for all her fighting. Dean spent a lot of his human life learning how to love and leave women, how to make their bodies sing for him, and how to make them purr and howl like Goddamn animals. His first victim on the rack was a woman, and Alistair taught him in painstaking detail exactly how to break females apart, because they're different than men. Sure, every soul is different, but there are still several fundamental things that will have them cracking and fraying around the edges. Dean turns her into a whimpering, submissive thing within a 'year' in her room. He then breeds her out to the demons under Sam because he couldn't care less about who she fucks and bears children for. The important thing is that there are more children.
Uriel.
Dean doesn't like this Angel. He's cocky and arrogant and he just rubs against Dean's soul the wrong way, so he doesn't deal with him much. He's got strong Grace, though, and that is a good hereditary trait, so Dean instead observes while other demons break him. He's thrown to the horde straight away, and while the unfocused attentions and almost random sessions don't break him as quickly, they still do the job. Uriel is on his third child by the time the decade's out. He'd tried to destroy the first one himself but Dean had stopped him before he could damage or kill it.
Anael.
Now Anael…is special. She's special because she isn't entirely Angel to begin with. Dean's intrigued by her. When he comes into her room with a changeling – a newly formed demon – in tow, she shrinks away, afraid because she's not as strong as the others. Her Grace is not full or bright.
"Hey there, beautiful," Dean says, smiling as he leads the other demon by the hand into her room, towards her where she's curled in on herself, small, light-boned wings curled around her legs protectively, feathers ruffled and facing outwards like a spiked tortoise-shell shield. He kneels down in front of her, blade in hand, half-hidden behind his thigh, just visible as a deterrent against any funny business. "I hear some very interesting things about you…"
Her blue eyes flash up to him, and then narrow, but she doesn't say a thing.
Dean finds it funny – he laughs. "You're possibly the first Angel who hasn't had something to say. Demon got your tongue?" he taunts softly, letting go of the other demon's hand and instead reaching forward, carding his fingers through her feathers. Her wing jerks in his grasp, surprised and afraid of the intimate touch.
"Please," she whispers, looking up at him and, if possible, curling in further. Dean cocks his head to one side. "Please."
"Please what, beautiful? You gotta tell me or how else will I know?" Dean purrs, the Cheshire cat smile on his face as he leans forward, touching her face this time, and she turns away, her eyes going to the other demon after a moment. He died young – can't be more than eighteen years old, maybe. He's got pale green-grey eyes and spikes of dirty blonde hair, and it makes him look innocent. He would be if she couldn't see the blackness of his new demon soul, lined around the edge with sulfurous yellow.
Normally Dean wouldn't be paying attention to her, but Sammy wants results, and damn it Dean will give him results. Sometimes you don't need to hurt someone to break them. Sometimes, you just need to threaten to do so.
Dean catches the demon and Angel watching each other and smiles, pulling away and taking the demon by the shoulder instead. "This is Adam, beautiful," he says, eyes remaining their bright forest green as he smiles, softening it. He can feel her relaxing already, and he pulls Adam closer to him, nuzzling into his changeling's jaw for a moment. Adam is stone cold and doesn't react to the gesture. Dean doesn't mind – he just pulls away after a moment, looking back to the Angel. "And what's your name, beautiful?"
She hesitates. "Anna. I was called Anna."
Dean smiles encouragingly at her and she tentatively matches the expression. "There we go, beautiful. We're not all bad, I promise," he says, lying easily but she doesn't catch it – she can't. She's half-Angel already, only restored enough to be useful in a fight, but the collar around her neck prevents most of her powers anyway. Dean's grip shifts, goes to the back of Adam's head and pulls the demon forward, closer to her. "We can actually be very nice, Anna. Loving, even."
Her eyes are wide, focused on Adam and she shifts away a little. Dean doesn't let the gap grow too much before he's no longer between Adam and Anna, and he pushes at the demon's shoulder. "Let him kiss you, beautiful. Let him show you how good we can make you feel."
She takes a deep breath but doesn't fight, and Adam leans in, his lips gentle and soft against hers. Coaxing, careful, like she's something precious and breakable, like fine china, and Dean watches as the Angel sighs and relaxes into the strange, unforeseen contact, relaxes her body and lets her wings and legs spread for Adam. He watches as, without any pain or deterrent or coercion on his part, she willingly submits to his newest changeling. It's fascinating, almost.
Anna conceives that very night. Sam's so pleased with Dean's progress that he fucks him so hard, so much that Dean can't walk right for the next three days, and even then he's a little more bow-legged than usual and sitting down hurts.
Balthazar.
Ah…Balthazar.
Dean brings Castiel to this Angel's room, because he'd seen…he'd seen the connection between his pet and his newest toy and he wants to poke at it, see exactly what kind of link tied these two Angels together. And, if possible, shred it.
He lets Castiel go in first, lets the hope rise in the Angel's Grace and then die when he sees that not only is Castiel still fallen, with marbled blue eyes now to match Azazel's instead of demonic black, but Castiel actually doesn't even seem to recognize or acknowledge him. His focus is on Dean as the demon enters the room a few paces behind him, so intent on his Master's wishes and his mate's needs that he almost forgets about the other Angel in the room.
Dean makes a quick gesture and Castiel sits, a few feet from his Brother, who's still staring at him as though expecting him to do something. Castiel doesn't even look at him.
"Castiel," Balthazar finally says when the silence has stretched on too long, when the demon is busy in another corner of the room, gathering and clinking around supplies with a kind of absentmindedness that makes it obvious he's just stalling. The fallen Seraph turns to look at his Brother. "Castiel, do you know who I am?"
Castiel blinks and then snorts, his smile bitter. "Of course I do, Bal," he says with a kind of affection that makes Balthazar's Grace swell with love, hopeful and grateful that not all of his brother is lost, before Castiel continues; "You're the man who came in with me to lay siege, and then faked his own death. You're the one who, instead of dying like I thought you had, managed to escape and leave me behind."
Balthazar gasps, staring at Castiel incredulously. "I didn't…"
"I was following you," Castiel says, his eyes slipping into that marbled blue iris that sends shivers up Balthazar's spine. "We were in the Eastern Wing, so close. Close enough that I could feel the Righteous Man, knew exactly where to go, and then we had gone through a crossroads in the hallways and were ambushed. I remember the feeling of your Grace being destroyed, Balthazar. It tore straight through me and made me stumble, and it gave the advantage the demons needed to take me down. But here you are, sitting next to me right now." He cocks his head to one side, smile growing. "I guess what goes around comes around, am I right, Brother?"
The way he says the name makes Balthazar's Grace roil. The Angel's wings flare out defensively. "I had to. We were outnumbered. Someone had to go back, to get reinforcements. I thought you were right behind me!"
"Well," Castiel replies coolly, "I wasn't."
There's a long pause in which Balthazar watches the brother he loves and cares about so much, watching his Grace swirling black and his eyes a cold, uncomforting and alien blue. It's like this Castiel is an entirely new one, one that doesn't belong to him or Heaven anymore, but that can't be because Castiel still has his wings, he's still an Angel – buried deep, deep down, Castiel can still be saved.
Dean finally gives up any pretense of not paying attention, and stalks over to the two Angels, a smile on his face. Castiel crawls over when he kneels down, resting his forehead against Dean's neck, letting his wings unfurl so Dean can touch and tease them as he wishes. The demon's hands immediately go to the underside of Castiel's wings, around the base of his spine, and the Seraph mewls, flaring them up and out.
Balthazar's face is an expression of disgust and sorrow and anger, that something so dirty is touching his beloved brother's wings. He can't even try to hide the hiss that escapes him, or the way he bares his teeth and flares his wings in an aggressive gesture.
The demon blinks his black eyes open, looking over at the other Angel, and laughs. "What is it, Angel?" he asks, knotting and tugging on Castiel's feathers harshly, making his pet arch and gasp and whine, muscles on his back and through his wings flexing as he tries to get more of Dean's addictive touch. "Jealousy's a sin, you know."
Balthazar growls at Dean. "He's not yours."
"Really?" Dean asks with a raised eyebrow, looking down at the panting Angel where Castiel's face is still buried in his neck, riding one of Dean's thighs lazily as Dean continues to pet him, and the demon smiles in superiority. "Could'a fooled me."
"You bastard," Balthazar growls, chains clinking as he tries to move, but Dean's got him pinned and tied down too well. "I will kill you. If it's the last thing I do, I will shove my blade through your neck and watch you choke on your own blood."
"Promise, promises," Dean singsongs, unceremoniously dumping Castiel to the floor without a thought and standing up. Dean grins, brushing himself off and wiping the oil from Castiel's wings onto his jeans. He goes over and kneels in front of Balthazar, their faces inches from each other. "He may have been yours once," Dean growls, "but he's mine now. I've made him so. I caught him, I taught him, I broke him and trained him. What did you do?" He snorts, sitting back on his heels. "You betrayed him, and you left him to the wolves."
Balthazar spits in Dean's face, pushing at him with his wings, but the demon just laughs, wiping his face clean. "Oh, you're going to be fun," he coos, practically jumping for joy. "Don't get too comfortable, precious – you can fight as hard as you want but I will break you, and when I do, I'm going to toss you to the wolves just like you did to your beloved brother." He laughs again. "Just you wait."
The Angel doesn't reply, doesn't want to reply. He doesn't want to give the demon any advantage over him, any reason to think that breaking him will be easy, because Balthazar is determined to be strong, to stay strong so that he can save Castiel and atone for the sins of his orders. Dean can see the determination in his eyes, and it will just be so beautiful when that light and fight flares and dies, and Dean will be around to watch it all.
"Castiel," he calls, waiting barely a moment before his Angel is at his shoulders, resting his stubble-rough jaw against the back of Dean's neck. Dean turns his head. "Where is your blade?"
Castiel blinks for a moment, unmoving as he thinks, his wings coming around to gently brush down Dean's sides, begging for an affectionate touch like a cat. "I don't remember, but I believe it is in your possession, Dean," he says after a long moment, and the demon laughs.
"That's right. You gave it to me, didn't you?" he says, words heavy with meaning as he looks back to Balthazar, watches at the Angel's entire body stiffens in outrage and disbelief. An Angel's blade is like a demon's blade – it's part of them, a very intimate and powerful thing. If Castiel gave his over willingly, it's practically an oath of fealty.
Balthazar knows this. Knows that Dean knows this. The Angel's wings shudder at the implications.
Castiel nods, confirming Bal's fears. Dean watches as the Angel fights to stay strong, fights to keep himself wanting to believe that it's not true, that his Brother isn't lost. Dean can see his conviction waning. "Yes, Dean, I did."
"You gave it to me the first night I made love to you, didn't you?" Dean asks, still watching Balthazar. He almost spits out the phrase, knows that he's never 'made love' to Castiel. But it was the first night that his Angel welcomed him, and didn't fight back. The Seraph had summoned his blade up, looked to Dean with wide, devoted blue eyes, and had handed him the blade without a word, without a thought. It was the night Castiel officially became Dean's.
The Seraph's wings arch closer around Dean, caressing the silken feathers around the demon's hips and waist, just teasing around where his cock is covered by his jeans. Dean's jaw clenches just a little at the teasing touch, his eyes darkening and his smile growing as the Angel he's holding captive glares at him with hate-filled eyes, powerless to do anything. He's been struck dumb by the knowledge that his beloved Brother gave himself away to a demon.
After torture, of course, but still.
Finally Castiel nods again, his hands joining his wings as he brushes his fingers across Dean's stomach, along bare skin. "Yes, Dean. I remember," he whispers solemnly, oblivious and uncaring as to his Brother's anguish. Balthazar has been dead to him for a very long time and he's too far gone to even really remember what it felt like to tangle his Grace with his Brother's, to feel that unending love of their Father. Why should he need it, when Dean is all he'd ever needed, right here?
Dean smiles, turning in Castiel's arms, and takes the fallen Angel's chin in his hand, tilting his head to slant their lips together. Castiel's body dips lower, submitting easily to Dean, his wings still providing a kind of silken shield to hide themselves from view as they kiss in front of his Brother, and Dean's hand slides under Castiel's wing where it joins at his back, and digs in with his fingernails, grabbing with the rest of his hand, and the jolt of it almost sends Castiel to his knees.
Dean's still grinning. "On your back, sweetheart. I'm going to make love to you again," he says, black eyes watching as Castiel scrambles to obey, then he flashes them Balthazar's way. "And then, we're going to get your blade out again, and have some real fun."
