A/N: I'm back from hiatus guys! Annndddd I feel horrible. I am so sorry for having to neglect you for twelve days. Twelve! This is unacceptable. But like as soon as I got back to my lovely computer, I ended up getting sick and couldn't keep much of a focus, let alone keep awake. So I am so sorry for this horrifically late update. I am still kinda sick and I couldn't put a lot of thought into this no matter how hard I tried, so it ended up being a lot shorter than the last three chapters. Still, I hope you enjoy!
I had originally planned for this to be two chapters, in case you guys saw my update on Tumblr, but I ended up fusing it into one.
Sam leaned over Bobby's desk, hovering above a bowl filled with exotic herbs and ingredients. A chunk of fulgurite was lying next to a mortar and pestle that Sam had planned to use to crush the crystal up. This was it. The last resort. He had tried contacting every Crossroads Demon he could to see if they could get to the world that his brother and Castiel was trapped in, and none of them, not even Crowley, was potent enough to travel there. If this didn't work… hell, he didn't want to think about it. This had to work. He had taken a plane to fucking Spain to get the fulgurite, seeing as that was the closest known existence of it, and even then he had to break into the auction house to steal it, since there was absolutely no way he was paying a hundred thousand euros for it.
As he started to grind the crystal into the mortar, Sam heard the front door swing open. His hunter instincts told him to pull out his gun and investigate; it could be any form of demon walking through, but he visibly relaxed himself as he saw it was just Bobby.
"Ya done freakin' out now, boy?" Bobby asked, a near reprimanding tone in his voice.
"Sorry," Sam apologized, "force of habit. Did you get it?"
The old hunter rolled his eyes and held up a brown plastic bag dripping with grease. "Yes, I got it, ya idjit. What'd ya think this was, a new dog?" He placed the bag on the end table next to the red recliner and ambled over to the desk where Sam had returned to his grinding. "You sure this will work?"
"I don't know," Sam admitted, "but it better." He dumped the crystal ash into the larger bowl of ingredients. "They've been gone for two months now… way too long to keep them waiting." He reached into his pocket and brought out his box of matches, reciting a Latin incantation that he had spent the past two weeks memorizing. Upon the last syllable, he lit a match and let it fall from his hands into the bowl, causing a small eruption of sparks and flame. When the fire died down, the two hunters noticed a dark figure standing on the other side of the room, staring directly at Sam with deadly conviction.
"Sam Winchester," the mysterious figure called out from the darkened area, though his eyes burned through it brightly, directly into Sam's soul. His voice rang with annoyance. "When I felt myself being summoned and bound, I almost thought it would be the other one who did it. You've surprised me, Sam."
"Forgive me," Sam pleaded calmly, "I didn't mean to actually bind you. I just… wanted a favor."
"A favor, please," the figure corrected, stepping forward out of the darkness to reveal a man dressed in a formal black business suit, complete with dark hair, patent black leather shoes, and a black cane. A silver ring adorned with a square, glowing white stone accessorized his left hand.
Sam swallowed a nervous lump in his throat and felt the back of his neck heat up. "…Please…" he said weakly. He wanted to make the best impression that he could. If he fucked this up, then the man he had just summoned wouldn't help him. It would probably even kill him. And Bobby. And the whole town.
And then, of fucking course, Bobby opened his sassily senile mouth.
"And who the hell do ya think you are?" Bobby snapped, stepping forward. Sam almost put a bullet through his own brain after seeing the furious expression on the formal man's face. Might as well save him the trouble of doing it himself, right? But oh no, Bobby wasn't done. "I dunno what ya think you're doing, but this is my house, my property, and my rules, and I am the only one who demands that sort of respect here, ya got that?" The old hunter was barely two feet away from the man; Sam could nearly see the fury emitting around Bobby, but what scared him more was the visible shift in the air around the man he was yelling at.
"Sam," the man said in an eerily calm way that didn't fit the mood of the whole house at the moment; it sent shivers down Sam's spine. "Does this man understand who I am?"
"I-I don't believe so," Sam answered, his voice shaking like a chihuahua that was ready to shit itself. He turned his attention to the old hunter. "Bobby… this is Death."
Almost instantly, Bobby's entire demeanor went from pissed the hell off to scared shitless. He looked over at Death, who stood there with an annoyed smirk on his face. "Death? As in, the Horseman Death?"
"That would be correct," Death answered. Had he actually been human, he would have laughed at Bobby's facial expression as it shifted from scared to terrified.
"I-I'm so sorry, Death," Bobby stammered nervously as he backed away from the horseman in respect. He almost bowed, but that would have been pushing things too far. Sam watched the interaction between the two, amused yet afraid to express it.
"Sorry Bobby, I should have told you before…" Sam apologized, receiving only a subtle nod in return. Apparently the old geezer was too terrified now to say anything.
"You should have," Death agreed, "I might have killed him. But, of course, you had to bind me." He lifted up his wrists, and Sam noticed a slightly glimmering thread wrapping around them like handcuffs. There wasn't anything natural about that ethereal string, he knew that for sure. "So," Death continued, "I have to listen to your commands."
"If I unbind you, will you still help me out?" Sam offered.
"It must have taken you a lot of effort to summon me. Yes, I will help."
Sam nodded in response and recited more words in Latin, watching as the thread wrapped around Death's wrists shatter into nothing. He knew this was a stupid idea, and Dean probably would have screamed at him for just letting him go.
But Dean wasn't here. So Sam was going to do this his way.
Death smiled appreciatively, though the gesture clearly lacked emotion. He wandered to the recliner and sat down in it, digging through the greasy bag of junk food contently. He pulled out the bacon cheeseburger first.
"So, Sam," he said, unwrapping the foil from the burger and taking a bite. "What is it that you wanted me to assist you with?"
Sam shoved his hands into his pockets out of unconscious habit. "Well, long story short… Dean and Castiel are trapped in an isolated universe that no one can get in and out of, but—"
"But you thought I would be able to get there?" Death interrupted. Sam nodded his head shyly.
"Indeed, I can," Death said, placing a fry into his mouth. Sam watched the horseman's bony jaw move up and down as the young hunter rolled back and forth on his heels in anticipation.
"But," Death continued, "it will not be easy for me to accomplish. What you are asking me to do is travel into a world that is not even supposed to exist, and bring two humans back into it—and yes, I am aware that Castiel is an angel, but I would assume he is human in that world if he has not been able to make it back." He took another bite of his cheeseburger, disheartened that there was nothing to drink. "Pulling your soul from Lucifer's cage and putting it back together would be a simple field trip compared to this."
"I know, and I am still very grateful for your help with that," Sam replied, "but Dean and Castiel are trapped. They have absolutely no way of getting out, and I know Dean well enough to be certain that he's tried in every way that he can. Please…" Sam pleaded. He knew that begging to the oldest (or second oldest) entity on Earth was completely childish and disrespectful, but he didn't care at this point. "Please just bring them back."
Death finished the last of his junk food and looked into Sam's eyes, not saying a word, which drove Sam to madness. Finally, the horseman spoke, "Very well. I will do as you ask… on one condition."
"Anything," Sam deadpanned. He could feel Bobby's wary eyes on him, but he didn't care. He wanted his brother back. He needed his brother back.
"Normally, I would have had you put on my ring for twenty-four hours and be me for a day," Death said, "but seeing as I have already made your brother do that, I will propose something different. When you die, I will be the one to personally take you away, and you will become one of my Reapers. Then you will be me for an eternity. Do we have a deal?"
Sam froze at the offer. Dean couldn't even last an entire day being Death. He had stopped when he was forced to take the life of a little girl and refused, which had upset the natural balance of things and caused more deaths than he had planned. If Dean couldn't last a day… how was Sam going to make it for an eternity?
But it didn't matter. None of it mattered. Dean had to come back.
"I accept."
Bobby finally spoke for the first time since he had stepped out of line with the horseman, "Sam…"
"Bobby, this is the only way to bring Dean and Cas back," Sam told him. "I have to do this."
"I think we should touch up the deal a bit, just to see if you still accept," Death suggested, and Sam instantly stopped moving. He felt his heart leap into his throat and sweat was beginning to spread across his hairline. What did Death have planned?
"If in the event that you die before Dean," the horseman said, "you must be the one to reap him."
Half of Sam wanted to scream no, that he wouldn't do that, that he couldn't. He knew how it worked. Though the wounds or sickness may be how someone dies, it's really the touch of a Reaper that kills the person. Sam essentially would be the one killing Dean, and he would have to be the one to live with that for an eternity.
But there was still the other half that knew better, the half that told him that he needed to bring his older brother back to the real world. Even if that meant being the one that kills him with his own touch in the end…
Sam stared deep into Death's dark, soulless eyes. He made his decision.
"Deal."
Dean closed his eyes as the relaxingly hot water from the shower poured down his bare chest. Damn, having sex with Cas was wonderful, but fuck if it didn't make him smell like a hooker who decided to go for a three mile jog to their next client's house. He lathered the soap across his body and shampooed his hair before reluctantly turning the water off and stepping out. He looked into the mirror and jumped when he saw a figure standing behind him.
"Dammit, Cas, you scared me…" Dean admitted as he turned around to face the angel.
"My apologies," Castiel replied.
In truth, Castiel standing there wasn't really what had scared Dean. For a moment, he had thought that the dark, disheveled hair and blue eyes that composed Cas were actually hazel eyes and a mop of brown hair situated on a tall, moose-like man called Sam Winchester. For a second, Dean thought his brother had found his way here and gotten trapped too. Or maybe, just for that moment, he thought he was back in the real world.
Dean didn't know if he was ready to go back there yet. He loved being able to have any material object he had ever wanted here. He had the house of his dreams, completely payment-free, along with things he's wanted over time. He even recreated the Impala, fixing her up with every little thing that made it special—hell, he even did the work himself instead of using the Skulletra magic. And best of all… he had Cas. Dean knew that if they ever went back to the real world, Cas would be called back to Heaven for that damn angel dispute they still had going on, and even if he did come down to visit, his angel form would keep him from being able to really get aroused… or worse, be able to even feel pleasure.
But he missed all the things that the real world had to offer. Cell phones, cable television, Internet… Dean couldn't really use communication technology in this realm. Well, he couldn't really use technology in general, but that was beside the point. Technology was always Sam's thing… which brought him to the real reason he wanted to go back. He missed Sammy and Bobby and being able to go to bars with actual people and just regular interaction with people. Sure, he had Cas here, and as much as he loved talking to him (among other things), it still got kinda lonely. Hell, Sammy had to have been losing his mind right now. Who knows how long it has been since he got zapped into this world?
"Dean, are you okay?" Castiel's voice rang through Dean's train of thought, completely derailing it and bringing him back to present time.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Dean answered.
"You were staring at me, saying nothing for what seemed like thirty seconds."
Dean furrowed his brow at this. Had he really been staring?
"Sorry, I just like what I see," Dean responded, adding a wink. "There you go, Dean, be suave about it." His flirting seemed to have the desired effect, as Castiel had started blushing and turned away slightly. In an instant, however, the angel's entire demeanor flipped as he smiled darkly, his eyes shadowed with lust. Castiel lifted his hand and curled his finger, signaling for Dean to follow him into the living room.
Damn, that angel was smooth.
Dean followed Castiel to the couch, not even bothering to put his clothes on. He already knew what was coming. As soon as they had reached their destination, Castiel threw the hunter onto the cushioned sofa and climbed on top of him, kissing roughly into his neck. Dean whimpered softly as he felt a hand glide along his chest and nipple, and he reached up to tug at Castiel's shirt, a silent request to have it taken off and tossed somewhere else, which is exactly what happened moments later. Dean felt a hand reach down and snake around his already erect cock, stroking gently its length.
"Fuck," Dean hissed, feeling Castiel's thumb run over the head of his member. His hand made way to the angel's slacks and slid its zipper down gracelessly, inching his thumbs along the inner hem of the waist to pull the annoying thing down. Castiel seemed to read his mind yet again, and shucked his slacks and boxers, letting them carelessly fly to some other location in the living room. The angel leaned in to kiss Dean, their tongues dancing with one another as their hard-ons were pressed together harshly, grinding together with a rough friction that caused Dean to moan softly into the kiss.
"So you wanna skip straight to it, Cas, or do you want some more fun first?" Dean teased in a husky voice once the kiss was broken, running his hands down Castiel's back and groping his ass firmly.
"How about you stop talking and get on with it," Castiel suggested. The sheer lust and conviction in the angel's demand was enough to get Dean to obey unhesitantly as he summoned a bottle of lube in one of his hands. After enough practice with the hand-gracing motion, he was finally able to focus it enough without having to do it anymore (which finally meant no more princess shit). He slicked up his fingers and pushed one through Castiel's entrance, but pulled out shortly to his own surprise.
"Cas…" Dean said, shock in his voice, "you prepped yourself already?"
Electric blue met with Dean's own eyes. "Valois' magic can be used for more than just decorating, Dean," Castiel commented, kissing and sucking between Dean's jaw line and neck, earning a satisfied grunt from the hunter under him. "Now, are you going to continue?"
Dean nodded silently and applied some more lube to his hands, using it to generously coat his cock, which was standing attentively and aching for attention. He guided Castiel's hips to his crotch and gently pushed himself inside, listening to the angel's sweet, sweet whines of pleasure. The hunter proceeded to rock his hips upward into Castiel, who rolled in time with the man under him, as the room filled with the scent of sweat, sex and Dean's shampoo, and the sounds of both men moaning and breathing heavily. Dean jerked Castiel off as the angel rode on his cock, and within minutes they both came simultaneously, the angel's pleasured scream echoing throughout the house. He collapsed on top of Dean as both men kissed each other with fervor, still riding out their orgasm-induced highs.
"I like this position," Castiel admitted when their lips finally parted.
"Yeah, I think I do too," Dean laughed. They lied on top of each other, kissing each other lazily. Dean felt at peace. It was just he and Cas, no other worries running through his head. He didn't have to think about how he would return or how much Sam was missing him. All he could muster up in his own thoughts was Cas, Cas, Cas. It all seemed so surreal, so much like a dream, so—
"Am I interrupting something?"
Dean and Castiel almost flew five feet in the air at the sound of a voice that didn't belong to either of them. No, it was impossible; no one else could possibly be in this realm.
But that voice. That voice was familiar beyond belief, and it spoke with so much power…
Dean turned to see who it was, and his stomach dropped six feet under… ironically.
Death.
A/N: Damn, Dean... having sex in front of one of the oldest living things on Earth? Awkward...
I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, again I am so sorry for the late update and the lack of previous length. I will try harder next time, I promise.
I have begun to update when I am writing another chapter and when I am posting it on my Tumblr. You may follow me if you want! URL: castiel-your-dean-is-showing
Thanks guys, I love all of you!