Chapter 14

The sun has set by the time he gets back to the motel that night, closing the door behind him and smiling softly in the darkness before flipping the lights on and getting undressed, folding the clothes carefully and making a mental note to give them back to Kate in the morning.

They'd kissed twice after that. Once when they'd left the coffee shop, before they stepped out into the pouring rain that had started out of nowhere, standing under the striped awning and listening to the raindrops beat down onto the fabric above their heads. Once just a few minutes ago, when Dean had pulled up and smiled shyly at him, the streetlight above them casting deep shadows across his face.

"I had a good time tonight."

"Me too," he'd smiled back. This time it was he who leaned across to Dean, and this time he kept his eyes wide open, wanting to drink in every little detail of this moment, unable to believe that it was really happening. If he could dream, he would have half expected to wake up any second. Eventually they'd separated and whispered their goodnights.

He all but collapses onto the bed, but doesn't go straight to sleep. He knows he should, that he needs to rest, that he'll regret it if he doesn't, but his mind is spinning.

This is wrong. He shouldn't be doing this. Didn't he promise himself, months ago, that he'd stay away from Dean? Yet here he is, doing the exact opposite. The logical part of his brain is telling him to get out, to leave the Impala, buy a cheap car, and get as far away from Kansas as possible. He'd made his decision; Dean's happiness over his own.

Although...

When he'd been working cases across the country, he'd met a few other hunters. Their acquaintances had been brief; he preferred to work alone, not making an impression, but in some cases it had been unavoidable. One of them in particular, Castiel couldn't remember her name, had told him about her boyfriend back home.

"He has no idea I do this," she'd admitted during a stake out. "He just thinks I travel a lot for work."

"Don't you feel uncomfortable, lying to him like that?"

"Well yeah. But at the same time, I'm keeping him safe. The less he knows, the less of a target he is."

If she could make it work, why couldn't he? After all, that's what Sam had done when he was dating his girlfriend Jessica. From what Castiel had heard from him, she'd never known about how he was raised, what his father and brother really did for a living. It wasn't ideal, but if there is a glimmer of hope that he could be with Dean and protect him from what was really out there...

"No."

He speaks the word to the empty room. No. He can't do this. It's not fair, on him or on Dean. And besides, he made a promise. He'd promised to leave Dean alone, and that's what he's going to do.

Nothing good ever happens to the people he cares about. He's learned that much through thousands of years of experience. First, his brothers and sisters. Anna, who fell. Gabriel, who ran away. Balthazar... he shudders and pushes that memory away. He can't bear to think about it. But even the humans, the people he holds- or held- dear... they never have happy endings. Sam, Dean, the others. He thinks about all the people he's affected, all the humans he's tried to help and failed. Nobody's heard from Chuck for years now. Ellen and Jo- if he'd been smarter, if he hadn't gotten himself trapped in the holy fire, he could have helped them. Pamela- he burned the psychic's eyes out, didn't he at least owe it to her to protect her? The list goes on.

No, it's better that he leaves Dean alone, for everybody's sake. It's surprisingly easy to make the decision. He's known all along, he supposes. It was never going to work.

He thinks for a few minutes. He won't call Dean now. It's too late, and besides, to ring him only a little while after they last saw each other... no. He'll wait for a little while, until the car's fixed. He won't tell Dean until then, until he can take the Impala and get away as quickly as possible, but he'll try and distance himself from the other man. And then he can leave, and Dean will never see him again, and maybe he'll finally have his chance at the normal life he always wanted.

Satisfied, he turns over and manages eventually to slip into what passes for him as sleep.

He's woken by the shrill ringing of his mobile. After a few moments of groping along the sideboard to find the phone, he sits up and checks the screen, squinting against the sudden bright electronic light.

The first thing he sees, in the corner of the display:

3:02 am

Confused, Castiel checks the caller ID. Nobody should be ringing him at this time, unless it's a real emergency. Even then, there's only a small group of hunters and other acquaintances who have this number.

DEAN WINCHESTER calling.

He groans, and presses the answer button. Why is Dean calling him so soon after he dropped Castiel off at the motel?

As he presses the phone to his ear, he takes in the situation properly and dread begins to settle in the pit of his stomach. There's no reason for Dean to be calling him this early. Even if there was something important he needed to tell Castiel, surely he'd wait until a more reasonable time.

So it hardly comes as a surprise to him when, instead of a reply to his gruff "hello?", he only hears quiet sobs coming from the other end of the line.

"Dean? Is that you? Are you alright?"

"C-Cas..."

"What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"Cas, I... I don't... please..."

The angel is about to reply when he hears a noise in the background. Frowning, he listens closer. It sounds like somebody coughing, the shuffling of feet.

"Dean is... is there anybody else there?"

"They... they said..."

"Okay, calm down. Who are they?"

"I don't... they broke into my apartment. My neighbour, he..."

"It's alright. Just try to talk calmly."

"He heard noises, came to help... they just ripped him apart, Cas. They drank his blood. And their teeth..."

Castiel feels his blood run cold. Even in the panic, some part of his brain notes coolly that although he always thought that was just a metaphor, it's true. It feels as if his veins have frozen to ice, and he is paralysed, unable to move or do anything to help the situation.

"Vampires..."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," he says, but inside he is screaming his stupidity, his blindness. He's been so occupied with other things, he just assumed they'd gone underground, tried to hide their trail, when really they never really went away.

"Cas, I..." there is a muffled noise, and a gasp, and then the voice on the other end changes. The new speaker is male, in his mid forties if Castiel had to guess an age. His voice is deep, but smooth as melted chocolate.

"Sorry, Dean's a little busy at the moment, I'm afraid."

"If you've hurt him..."

"Oh don't worry, I won't lay a finger on him. After all," and Castiel can practically hear the smirk, "I've just eaten."

"I-"

"Can't say the same for my friends though. They're hungry."

"Starving," he hears a voice chime in from the background.

"What do you want?"

"Temper, temper. Won't make friends with that attitude, you know."

"What do you want, please?"

"Don't try to be a smart-ass with me."

The voice turns low, dangerous, almost animalistic. Castiel stays silent, and when the vampire speaks his tone is light-hearted and easy again.

"Better. So here's the thing: we know you've been following us. Have done for a while. Let me tell you, for a hunter... not so big on the subtlety, are you? I'm gonna get right down to it; at first, I was up for leaving here, getting away from this town. From you. But then I thought, hey, wait a second, this Castiel guy sounds familiar. So I asked around. And guess what? I was right."

"I don't..."

"Pittsburgh. Pennysylvania. About, ooh, three months back? You roll into town, slaughter a nest of newborns. Hooray, hunter wins again, monsters are dead, everybody happy, right? Thing is, one of those, uh, monsters... she was my daughter."

"You... what?"

"Yeah, I got turned a few years back. Eventually, when I knew I could control the bloodlust thing, I went after my family. Thought if I turned them, we could be a big happy family again. And then her mom died..."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. Whiny bitch wouldn't shut up. When I showed her my fangs, she freaked, attacked me. I killed her. You gonna let me finish? It was just us two, and I thought what the hell. So I turned her, turned a bunch of others too. They were going to join me when they were strong enough, we were going to find somewhere out the way, somewhere we could live in peace, not bother anyone. And then, you show up."

"I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"Don't care. Listen, this, uh, Dean guy? We saw you two together. Figured best way to get to you was through him. Here's the deal: you get here. We let him go, we kill you, everyone's happy."

"Why would I..."

"God, are you an idiot? Because if you don't turn up..."

There is a pause, and Castiel can hear Dean in the background. By the sound of it, the other vampires- and he still has no idea how many there are- have got hold of him, and Castiel can hear him grunting and cursing and fighting against them, the sounds of a struggle only occasionally punctuated by a quiet, muffled sob.

"You're going to kill him?"

"Oh no. No, no, no, that would be far too simple."

"Then what?"

"We're going to turn him. And while he's in agony, while he's going through that painful transformation, we're going to tell him how this is your fault, how you did this to him, how you could have saved him. We are going to twist him and turn him into a monster, and then we're going to set him on you."

He takes a moment to let that sink in, and then rattles off an address.

"You have one hour. If you're not here by then..."

"I get it," Castiel says, not bothering to disguise the hatred and disgust in his voice.

"Just making sure we're on the same page. One hour. Goodnight."

The line goes dead.