Four and a half weeks later
Over a month of nothing. Every tip they had about Sammy led to a dead-end, Dean wasn't handling it well. The inactivity was beginning to drive him up the wall in a way no amount of pie Cas brought home would cure. He was angry. There was a fire that was eating him up from the inside. While he had an easy comradery between him and Cas at least when, they were alone. Part of him wished differently if nothing else so that Dean could do something. They didn't go out often, but when Cas went anywhere he took Dean with him.
After the original assault on his compound that Dean narrowly missed he wasn't taking any chances, and that meant wearing the collar and leash. Dean hated it. With a fiery passion so hot he wasn't sure why the strip of black leather never burst into flames. It chafed at every part of his being, the constraint, the giving over of his own will to Cas for safe keeping. Although he trusted the angel more, he didn't think he was going to hurt him or run him into sign posts, it made him feel weak. He hadn't seen Bobby since St. Louis but it didn't help that he knew Bobby and likely Ellen and Jo watched him get walked like a dog. He was never a submissive, never had been, doubtful he ever would be there was too much in his life already out of his control he wasn't want to add more to the list. Ellen had brightened his day briefly by bringing him the Impala and working with her was the only think keeping him even a little sane.
Sure Cas was a lot nicer about it than any of his trainers as a Bilora he only used the collar when they went in public, where his society would question its absence. He was also quick to remove it when they arrived back as his villa, but he was restless. Every day he saw more people die in the arena, they treated it like a sport, filming every aspect of the games critiquing the fighters, marveling at the detailed settings and reveling in each bloody moment. Still no sign of chuckles or Sammy, to think that that heartless bastard owned his brother made him sick. He had long ago dismissed his hallucination on Halloween as just that so that he could focus on finding the gladiatorial training had to be where Sammy was being held until Uriel decided to enter him into the games.
Part of him wanted just to convince Cas to send him to the arena. Over the last couple of weeks, he had gotten himself back into fighting form, and he was itching for a fight. His ear had finally healed, and he wouldn't allow himself to get that sloppy again. His whole life had been one long campaign, and he never had long between battles. Waiting had never been his strong suit, and now it was driving him crazy. He was drinking more than he should to compensate Cas never said anything about it, but Dean knew he watched him with worry. It was the only way he slept at night. He was still constantly plagued with dreams of hell and Alastair and as far as he figured whatever Cas did to heal him of all his scars probably bought him a new liver.
It was late maybe four in the morning. He was in the little garage Cas had set up for the Impala. Cas was true to his word, he allowed Dean to roam the house as a partner rather than a slave. As long as he stayed on the grounds, Dean knew it was meant to be for protection but the limitation niggled at him. He ran a soft cloth over the Impala he wore a dark blue grey sleeveless shirt and a dingy pair a blue jeans she was sleek and in perfect order again.
Ellen hadn't said much about how she got the car. If anything she was downright evasive and maybe a little angry. She had handed him the keys without looking him in the eyes, just said that Sam had left the car at the roadhouse a few years back. He had wanted to ask about Jo wanted to know how she was doing, but he couldn't bring himself to ask and she hadn't volunteered any information.
The silence killed him. When it was quiet, he thought. Thought about Sammy, thought about his dad, about the man in hell. The Impala was spotless, he hadn't had much to do, but now she shone. He took a swig out of the flask Bobby lent him. The burn added a layer of warmth to his already numbed brain now if only he could find a way to fill the hollow in his heart. He needed to do something. There was this constant tightness in his chest when he thought about Sammy out there on his own in danger because of him. Everyone he loved died. Everything he touched turned to shit. His whole life was a series of people he fucked over. He was beginning to think the good he did would never outweigh the bad.
He glanced down at the only thing he had ever managed to thinking he grabbed a pipe from the workbench and slammed it into the back of the trunk. The sound echoed loudly in the small space. The dent wasn't enough to satisfy this impotent rage. He found himself smashing the pipe against the car again and again the rage that swirled inside him filled his every a shriek of grinding metal and sharp ping of breaking glass he decimated the car breaking the windshield, the tail lights anything he could reach. Until suddenly the rage that filled him moments before blew over leaving emptiness in its wake. He threw the pipe away and heard it clatter to the ground somewhere.
His jaw ached from how hard he clenched his teeth and the pain in his heart hadn't dissipated the god damn hopelessness was still there trapping him. He wanted to scream to destroy everything so that he could feel in control over something. His hand and arm were bleeding he felt the stinging pain of glass embedded in his arm. He almost relished it because at least pain was something he could deal with, pain meant he was alive meant he was still here. He needed to get out of here he didn't care what it cost him just for a few hours. Dean didn't think he pulled open the garage door and headed off on foot. If nothing else maybe it would help cool him down.
Castiel couldn't sleep. He paced the length of his room. Regardless of the late hour he was still dressed, he had a decision to make. The month had passed by in a whirlwind. Time had moved so fast there was little he could do to stem the tide. He had spent that time diligently attending meetings in the hope of hearing news of Sam and the games. He was weary. The weariness had settled into his bones. His first regeneration, since Dean left Hell, was scheduled in two days, and it could not come soon enough. The long hours weighed on his physical body and mental peace, and yet he knew that his troubled nights were no worse than Deans. He knew Dean was in the garage, it seemed the only place he found any peace. He felt like a failure, and Castiel felt like one as well.
He knew locating Sam Winchester would not be an easy task, but he had not thought it impossible. No one seemed to know anything about him, Uriel was no help. He would say no more about his arena warrior and with the breaking of seals he was constantly away. To make matters worse he had not heard from Balthazar since before he left to find Dean. It was begging to trouble him. While Balthazar was prone to fits of extended debauchery, he always contacted him Gabe, and he had done neither as far as Castiel could tell.
Not that Gabe was in any position to notice, he had fallen into the same spiral as Castiel visited him at his villa the man was enjoying a state of maniacal decadence, he abdicated from his position on the council and he would give Castiel no explanation. He merely said that he had a fight with his brother after his abdication and had not seen him since. His removal left only Michael and Raphael as the two archangels. Castiel had tried to garner an audience with the council, but they refused. He knew it was time that he stopped implicitly trusting the words of an encoded communication that may or may not come from their absent leader. He had wanted the council to examine the transmission in an attempt to locate its source.
Their refusal to meet with him left him to try to explore less pleasant means of gathering information. It left him two different options. One was trusting humans other than Dean. He mentioned a human named Ash, who was capable of many things with a computer that might be able to help with locating the transmission source.
While Castiel had no ill will towards humans trusting them was another matter entirely. It was the habit of his species to reveal as little information as possible about them. Information was power and the more power another species had, the less the angels would have. While Castiel knew Dean, and he were aligned for the moment, he was a member of the angel resistance. Castiel felt sympathy for humans, but his people needed them in bondage. Th angels were limited in numbers it wasn't a well-publicized fact, but there had no new births of angels in nearly a thousand years. The data wasn't as troubling as it could be given their expanded life cycles their scientists deemed the limitation a necessary adaptation to longer regeneration periods and longer lives. Still the fact troubled some in the community. Releasing information even trivial information to humans was frowned upon and releasing information to the resistance was tantamount to treason.
The second option was perhaps more distasteful. The demon Ruby had contacted him again. She said she had information on someone that would be useful to the cause of finding Sam Winchester. She would not go into any more detail by correspondence, but she agreed to a meeting face to face. Castiel was leery meeting a demon even during relatively peaceful times alone was dangerous. Additionally he knew that she could not be fully trusted. It was in her nature to betray. Their entire culture revolved around the struggle for dominance, but what choice did he have? He had agreed to the meeting, tonight, they had selected an abandoned building not far from Castiel's villa.
He has scouted the location earlier today there were no obvious signs of foul play, although he was sure she had done her own recognizance. His current dilemma was whether or not to bring Dean. The danger leaving him alone was very real. He still had no further information about why the strike team came for him, but he knew that they would not stop after a single try. Pamela was still in the hospital recovering from the burns that the other angel inflicted on her. It made his heart ache, but he knew that in a deep down part of his being that he tried to deny he was glad it was her rather than Dean. He knew it made him a horrible person, a lowly base individual, but the thought was there every time he looked into Dean's fathomless green eyes. The danger was just as great if he brought him with him Ruby was an unknown variable. She could not be trusted that much he was already assured of but did the risk of leaving Dean alone outweigh the risk of bringing him to her.
Another issue of bringing Dean to Ruby was the truth that he had been keeping from him. Ruby knew much more than she was telling him about Sam Winchester and his twisted relationship with Azazel. She feigned ignorance of Azazel's true goal or of the current location of Sam but the little bit that she had told him he had kept from Dean. The legends of Dosigs were just that legends until recently. They were called dark ones because they were beings augmented by drinking demon's blood. It was an ancient practice that he thought had been abandoned long before he was born. While their science had very little understanding of the psychic abilities, the Babalon presented they fully grasped the physical prowess. Naturally the Babalon would only have been as strong as humans, but a series of unfortunate events led to their extremely powerful nature.
While his species was advanced compared to humans, the Babalon were much more advanced their studies in immunotechnology was in part what kept both species alive. The intense ionizing radiation from the cosmic rays that entered through their planets depleted atmosphere caused a breakup of the molecule's double-stranded, ladder-like helix. While the body can repair a few breaks without significant loss of function when many breaks occur, the repairs can become messy, and new instructions can be keyed in the genetic code. They developed a slew of chromosome instability syndromes, inherited conditions associated with chromosomal instability and breakage this lead to an increased tendency to develop certain types of malignancies such as cancer and congenital diseases the biggest problem being the Nehcoma, a neurodegenerative, inherited disease causing severe disability. It impaired certain areas of the brain including the cerebellum, causing difficulty with movement and coordination. It weakened the immune system causing a predisposition to infection and slowed the natural repair of broken DNA, increasing the risk of cancer.
The Babalon attempted Autologous immune enhancement therapy using blood transfusions the process worked by using their own immune cells removing them from the body culturing and processing them to activate their resistance to diseases then the strengthened cells were put back in the body but the damage to their original DNA sequence slowed the cell's natural repair mechanisms leaving them suffering constant radiation sickness. They attempted directed evolution, random mutagenesis was applied to proteins, and a selection regime was used to pick out variants desired qualities. This method mimicked natural evolution and in general, produces superior results to a rational design. Transplantation and Organ piracy served as a short term solution on a larger scale. Donor organs were chemically scrubbed of cells leaving a protein scaffold behind and then recipient stem cells were used to re-engineer living organs.
The plan worked if very slowly however the engineered prion proteins spontaneously contorted themselves into the disease-causing conformation based on a rare mutant prion allele harmful prion proteins can replicate by converting normal prions into rogue forms this created an autosomal dominant inherited prion disease of the brain. It was almost always caused by a mutation in the protein, but also developed spontaneously in patients with a non-inherited mutation variant called it had no known cure and involved progressively worsening headaches, insomnia, which lead to hallucinations, delirium, and confusional states like dementia. The average survival span for patients diagnosed after the onset of symptoms was 18 months.
With the situation growing steadily worse trying to find a lasting solution, they created a virus. Viruses bind to their hosts and introduce their genetic material into the host cell as part of their replication cycle. They began gene therapy, by removing the viral DNA and using the virus as a vehicle to deliver the therapeutic DNA they developed a virus characterized by a long incubation period. That delivered a significant amount of viral RNA into the DNA of the host cell and had the unique ability of being able to infect non-dividing cells they used the virus to introduce a new genes to the cells infecting the decayed cells with its own original genetic material.
They developed tools for selectively activating and deactivating individual genes like flipping a light switch genome-editing tools that allowed them to epigenetically seek out and turn on genes that made their muscles physically large, increased their stamina and immune response and made their reaction times incredibly fast and helped to unlock the ability to manipulate zero-point energy fields this allowed them unheard of access to psychic powers. This worked while it did not destroy the mutant prion the virus was able to revitalize the cells at the same rate of destruction creating unaffected carriers of both the prion disease and the genome- editing virus.
This is what gave the Dosigs their strength and weakness. They would feel like gods they would have access to the same physical and psychic strength of the Babalon for 18 months. Then the same disease that crippled the Babalon would overcome their weaker human immune system forcing them to physically crave the power. While at the same time slowly replace their human cells if they managed to survive the transition process they would eventually become demons themselves. Castiel only knew of one to survive the transition process. Ruby.
This had happened before in other species, the demon's fed them their blood and they gained phenomenal power and they were used as pawns in the war. Until they died.
Castiel feared that Sam Winchester was one of those pawns if what Ruby said was true they were running out of time to find him in more ways than one. If a cure were possible in humans, they would need time, sadly Castiel knew this may not be the best situation to trust Dean to remain calm in.
As much as he worried about his safety he knew that he had to go to see Ruby alone.
Dean tucked his arms tight against his chest. Maybe leaving like this wasn't the best idea it wasn't cold but the air carried a chill. He didn't even look which was he was going as he stalked away from the garage. He didn't stop his anger and helplessness kept spurring him forward. He didn't care that the hand print was showing him marking him as Cas's property. Ok, maybe he did care, maybe a bit too much, he was his own man and for the past month he was stuck here waiting around twiddling his thumbs while Sammy was out there alone.
Not to mention the fact that the resistance didn't want him. None of them went so far as to say that, but he knew it was true. His capture and his ruse as Cas's slave made him a liability Part of the reason only Ellen had come to see him and only under the cover of darkness. Yeah, he knew it was the smart move, he was too public, but it stung.
Dean had never had a life outside the resistance. He had always been a hunter. He wasn't like Sammy; he hadn't done well in school. He never had a relationship last longer than it took to get from the bed to the doorway. He had never had any other plans never had his own goal and for the most part he was fine with it. There was bigger goal he was fine sitting on the backburner, but everyone else had moved on without him, they didn't need him as much as he needed them and while that made him feel weak. He knew it was better that way. Hell if the Angels packed up and left today he had nothing else to do with his life. He had almost reached the road, the thick lump of emotions swirling in his chest.
"Dean," a voice called out.
He jumped simultaneously pissed that he hadn't heard the person creep up on him and impressed, it usually took a lot to get the jump on him. He spun to see who it was, but he should have known by her voice.
"Jo?" he asked surprised.
Jo was still the same slim 5'4" with brown eyes and long wavy blonde hair, that seemed to have darkened slightly from the last time he had seen her. She wore faded blue jeans a black tank top with a thick tan jacket, but at the same time she was different. She stood stiffly surveying her surroundings obsessively, scanning for an enemy.
"Why did you leave the compound?" she asked her eyes quickly still scanning their surroundings.
She held a sawed-off pump action shotgun in her hand and had a small tan bag over one shoulder She must have been the one on babysitting duty.
His arm was stinging from the glass. Dean didn't have any answers, so he deflected.
"What, are you following me?" He demanded jumping easily into the same defensive stance he had when they last spoke.
"Yes?" she answered simply giving him no leeway.
Unsure he waited not sure how to continue. "I needed the air." He finally said.
She narrowed her eyes. "You needed air?" she condescended lowering her weapon.
"Figures" she muttered to herself.
Dean hadn't expected to see her. Especially not like this. She was different. Jo had always been an enthusiastic hunter, but this was something different the innocence she had was long gone.
"We need to go." She insisted turning back towards the house.
Dean wanted to ignore her, but something in his gut told him that now wasn't the time. Grudgingly he followed her. He had so many questions, for her, about her. He wanted to know why she was following him, but honestly he didn't need that question answered. She was keeping an eye on him. Dean wasn't sure why it bothered him, under the circumstances it was prudent but he didn't want anyone to see him as a slave least of all Jo. He knew anything that was between them was long gone, but it didn't help being around her. It just made everything more confusing.
He felt weak following her like some lost little puppy dog that ran out when his master was away, and it made him bitter.
"Couldn't score a better job than babysitting?" he taunted. She didn't take the bait. "I volunteered." She offered not looking back her sawed-off shotgun lying over her shoulder.
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from asking his next question with the expression he knew he would have. His disbelief would just make her pity him even more. They were almost back at the garage he hadn't walked very far in his angry march away from the compound they entered the garage.
"Why?" he finally asked schooling his features. He knew he hadn't quite hidden the disbelief from his tone.
"Down boy," she condescended still not facing him her flippant tone belying her stiff avoidant stance.
"It has nothing to do with you and me" she continued sincerely
"I owe your brother." Dean frowned "Why?" She turned to face him slowly.
"Because until about a month ago I thought I killed him." she answered frankly it was then that he saw her face.
The left side of her face sported a jagged slash across her forehead bisecting her eyebrow narrowly missing her eye only to pick up again as a Y shaped tear across her cheek and lip with an opposing cut across her jaw. He recognized the precision as a knife blade rather than claw marks. She flinched under his gaze.
"It's a new look huh?" she spat out bitterly.
Dean didn't know what to say the cut on her cheek was the deepest he knew from experience that the blade wasn't a small one and slashes that large were made slowly. The scars were sunken in their effort to heal; these scars were not new.
"What happened?" he asked her eyes darted away from his refusing to meet his concerned stare.
His eyes felt compelled to travel along the new roadmap of scars across her face learning each new inch of jagged flesh. She was still beautiful, but she was broken, like she was a porcelain doll that someone dropped the scars were cracks in her old life.
She shrugged indifferently. He approached her quickly trying to comfort her reaching up to cup her face, and she flinched away as if he would burn her.
"Don't touch me!" she insisted spinning away.
Dean dropped his concern replaced with frustration. "What happened Jo?" he asked sternly.
She turned away from him. He let her.
"It was a couple months after Philadelphia." she began slowly. Her voice took on a distant tone as she remembered the events. "After mom told me how my dad died…" She let the sentence trail off, not wanting to rehash yet another painful subject. "I went out on my own."
"Hunting?" Dean asked he knew his tone was incredulous, and she shot him a dirty look over her shoulder.
"Yeah, hunting." Her voice brooked no more interruptions "I was working in a bar in Duluth when Sam…" "Sam?" Dean exclaimed she spun around hands on her hips in frustration.
"Do you want me to tell you or not?" she demanded Dean was too much of a gentleman to point out the tears in her eyes she was refusing to shed, so he only nodded.
"He came in acting cagy; that should have been my first clue." She added the last comment seemingly to herself with a distant look on her face. "We talked for a little, he started coming on really strong and I told him to leave. He had this weird mark on his arm. He attacked me and knocked me unconscious."
Every fiber of his being wanted to deny what Jo was saying wanted to scream and call her a liar. Sam wasn't like that he wouldn't hurt her, but he kept his mouth shut as she continued.
"I woke up tied to a pillar." Her eyes darted up to his. "He kept asking me what my mom told me about my dad's death."
"He was acting strange, catty and vindictive my first reaction was that it wasn't him, but he looked just like him it even smelled like his cologne and yet he knew things he couldn't possibly know." Dean shot her a quizzical look but kept his mouth shut. She hesitated for the first time "he... he knew things about Devil's Gate reservoir that I know my mom didn't tell him and I'm sure your father never mentioned. He knew how my dad died; he said he was bait" her voice came out thick with emotion.
"He said he was all cut up holding his insides in his hands he was gurgling, and John put him out of his misery like a sick dog. Then he said like daddy like daughter, that I was bait."
Dean held his breath knowing the answer but compelled to ask the question regardless.
"Who were you waiting for?" he found himself whispering.
"You." She replied. "I didn't know until a few months after, but the angels had already captured you, and I remember thinking it was so strange that Sam didn't know."
"Tell me what happened?" Dean insisted Jo looked away again and refused to meet his stare her voice drifted into a purposefully neutral tone.
"He got bored." It wasn't what she said it was the way she said it. With feigned indifference as if she was talking about, not finding anything good on the TV or a particular dull lecture.
Dean could picture it with perfect clarity. When he never showed, maybe the fake Sam, because that was all Dean could picture him as, waited a day, maybe just a few hours before he started carving her up. They would have started slow maybe just the quick slash across the chin before waiting a few hours and carving at her cheek. The cut was made very slowly by a very large blade Dean knew it would be similar to the hunting knife John gave both of them when they started hunting, but it couldn't be the same one. Dean had a flash of the man he saw at Halloween. Could that really have been Sammy or was it another copy?
"Are there more?" he wondered. His eyes traveled over her body not suggestively, but appraisingly searching for hidden wounds, checking her stance to see if she favored one side, looking for exposed skin wondering if the wicked red lines continued down her body.
She pretended not to understand. "We have seen more of this lately, people acting strangely only to show up later with no memory of what happened claiming to have been somewhere else at the time."
Dean let her keep pretending but asked the next question.
"What happened to Sam?" he asked. She was leaning up against the car she looked at the damage before met his eyes raised a brow but didn't answer for several moments when she finally did continue it was, in short, clipped sentences. "After two days I broke free. I stabbed him in the heart, buried him in the woods."
Dean's fist was clenched at his side his throat felt so tight it felt like he could barely swallow, and his chest burned with the repressed confusion and anger. He couldn't believe that Sam would hurt Jo; he couldn't believe that Sam was a monster. Yeah, it was a little touch and go there for a while after Jess died, but he was working through that… Then Dean got captured. Surely that wasn't enough to change his kind, empathetic brother into the kind of monster that would torture a friend.
Dean was ashamed to admit it, but he had his doubts if only for the briefest of moments.
"It wasn't Sam." Dean ultimately said his voice firm and his mind made up.
Jo started to say something and Dean cut her off insistently he started pacing
"That was not my brother." He added hammering home his point with jabs of his finger.
"You're bleeding." Jo pointed out her voice soft and cajoling. There was pity on her face, and it made him angry.
She dug into her bag and pulled out a med kit. He wasn't done arguing his brother's case.
She grabbed for his hand moving him so that he leaned up against the car. "That wasn't Sammy." He said again.
She didn't respond right away she just focused on tending to his wounds. Carefully she used tweezers to pick delicately out the small shards of glass that were embedded in his skin. It hurt, but it let him focus on the pain rather than the idea of Sammy becoming a monster because he wasn't there for him. "I know." She blurted as she dabbed at the cuts with an alcohol wipe before wrapping them up in white bandages.
"What?" "I know that wasn't Sam." She repeated quietly almost hopefully. "I guess you can say I suspected for a long time, but I never had any proof…" she stopped her ministrations and looked at him. "Dean nobody in the resistance has seen your brother in nearly four years." The words had a foreboding edge to them.
Dean remembered something Bobby said. "What about the demons? Couldn't he have been I don't know a replicant or something?" she shrugged.
"I don't know. We don't know how they do it, we don't know if the person is controlled or replaced. All we do know is that they react to the light."
What she was saying was she was here because she didn't know if the person who attacked her was really Sam or not. She was here out of guilt. Hear out of loyalty. She wanted to find Sammy alive because then the man that hurt her hadn't been a friend. There was a small chance that Sam was dead, but how was that news really. As much as he wanted it to differently there was already a low chance that he was alive to begin with. He was fine with that. Winchesters didn't die easily.
He didn't know what to say how to reassure her that what happened to her was horrible but that it couldn't have been his brother. He laid his hand on her arm drawing her eye contact. He offered her his silver flask. "Drink?" he asked as casually as he could manage. She raised her brow looking into his eyes for what felt like forever before taking the flask. "Cheers."
Murmured cynically raising the flask in a salute. She handed the container back to him he took a long draft of his own. It did nothing to warm the chill in his heart. Oddly he wished Cas was here the angle was always good for taking his mind off the worst things in his life, but he settled for Jo and their companionship. Somehow in his mind he her place had shifted from a possible romantic interest closer to the little sister he never wanted, and he was fine with that.
"Got any more?" she wondered taking another drag from the flask he sent her a withering look "You have to ask?"
Castiel unconsciously scanned the location. The area was an abandoned parking lot attached to the decrepit remains of an old hotel. The small sliver of the crescent moon was mostly hidden by the clouds that scurried overhead scattered by the slightly cool breeze. His trench coat stirred with the wind uneasily. Ruby was late. It made him nervous. He didn't trust her, and her tardiness was making him more uneasy by the second. He was taking a large risk by meeting with her if he was labeled a traitor there would be no time for explanations. His people were not known for their compassion or their patience.
The war between their species left little quarter and additionally it was just simply distasteful. Castiel stamped his feet against the cold irked that he was forced to wait on a demon for whatever information she could give him that might be useful to the cause of finding Sam Winchester. There was no guarantee, but it was a risk he was willing to take to help Dean. The idea of failing Dean again ate away at him. His loyalty was and must always be to the Angelic order, but his promise to Dean was becoming an integral part of him as well. After several moments, he saw her. It appeared as if she came from nowhere. One moment he was scanning the empty parking lot and then she was there swaggering up from the corner of his vision her dark leather clothes and hair made her seem to be one with the darkness. The cocky bluster was her entire presence. Ruby swaggered up to him her posture was confident but her eyes belied her fear. Neither one of them was entirely comfortable.
"Hey, Angel How's tricks?" she called out with a wink sauntering up to him Castiel ignored her overly friendly greeting and waited for her to carry on
She continued talking as she approached "I still don't see why we couldn't have this conversation someplace else… like a bar, where they have drinks." She insisted indignantly rather than condescend Castiel took her question seriously
"If we must work together discretion is the key to our relationship." He murmured
Ruby snickered looking him up and down. "Yeah, you guy are about as subtle as a nuclear bomb."
Castiel didn't react to her sarcasm she gave him a sour look and crossed her arms over her chest."Look, I have some info, and then I'm gone." Castiel nodded for her to continue.
"I'm hearing a few whispers." "And I am to trust whispers from demons?" Castiel asked tonelessly
Ruby simply glared before continuing
"Girl named Anna Milton escaped from a locked demon ward yesterday." She stopped for a moment to let her words sink in "The demons seem pretty keen on finding her. Apparently, some real heavy hitters turned out for the Easter-egg hunt."
"Who is she?" he asked suspiciously
"I don't know, but I figured you would want to talk to her before the demons do. The order is to take her in alive so she must know something, possibly about Sam."
Castiel frowned. The news was unreliable at best. There was no guarantee that Ruby was telling the truth or that this Anna Milton would be of any use. Her information did not promise to be of use regarding Sam Winchester. It was possible Anna Milton knew nothing about Sam Winchester however if she escaped from a demon prison she would no doubt be of use to the angelic order.
"For some reason you're fighting on our side. Why is that?" he asked cocking his head to the side watching her carefully.
"Go screw yourself. That's why." She spat out before turning to walk away after a few feet she spun back around
"And for the record what you don't know about me could fill a book."
Castiel watched her leave. He knew it was time as much as he didn't want it to be; he would need Dean's help to find this Anna Milton.
"So what's with you and the angel?" Jo asked they were sitting their backs leaned up against the car knees raised up for support continuing to take alternative swigs from a bottle that Dean brought over when the flask ran dry.
It was maybe an hour after Jo arrived maybe more. Sitting and talking like this made time move slowly. They had a lot to catch up on. What was going on in the war, Who the president was, What in the hell a Kardashian was and no apparently they weren't another alien race, but rather than talk about that they reminisced. Do you remember that time stories were the only thing mentioned, until now. It was the first personal type question Jo asked, and it felt weird over familiar, but it shouldn't have been. Jo had seen him at his most exposed both physically and emotionally. She was in that weird in-between space between friend and lover, they never had sex but they were so much more than friends and too much on the far side of platonic to ever feel like siblings.
'What do you mean?" Dean asked trying to be indirect.
It wasn't that he didn't want to talk about it with Jo. He knew if he admitted a tiny crush on Cas there would be no judgment or jealousy there, but he wasn't sure how he felt.
"There is something between you two." She continued simply. There was no censure in her tone she was simply curious about his life like any good friend would be but when it came to Cas Dean knew he was a bit sensitive.
"It's complicated," he finally settled on snatching back the bottle for a gulp to keep his expression neutral. Jo knew he liked men as well as women he didn't try to keep that from perspective partners or friends and once upon a time Jo was both.
Jo snickered "Dating a hunter is complicated. Dating the enemy is another story." Dean knew she had a point, but he wasn't sure what he thought of Cas.
Cas had somehow become an important part of his life. Dean wasn't sure what to make of it any other time he grew close to someone he found himself pushing them away. His life was dangerous. He knew it was partly because of Cassie. Even their names were eerily similar whatever happened to her was entirely his fault and yet, he knew Cas was important.
"He is a friend" he answered finally because it wasn't a lie. Cas was his friend. If perhaps he had a few thoughts that painted him as more that friendly it wasn't important.
Jo nodded "We were friends once too, look how that worked out." Her crooked smile seemed to be enhanced by the cuts on her face. He knew that wasn't what she implied, but that was the only signal his drunken brain could process.
The people he called friends always got hurt.
"Cas saved my life, but he also fucked it up," Dean admitted
"Yeah, I was rotting away in hell but my life was done, there wasn't anything complicated about it. I'd done my mission and saved my brother and did the best I could for the movement. Now I am in the middle of some complicated angelic bullshit that the angel that dragged me into it won't explain. My brother is missing, my team is losing the war my friends were hurt because I wasn't there to protect them, I feel like it's all my fault."
Jo looked at him "You really are stupid." she muttered Dean glared.
"It isn't your fault. The weight of the world doesn't rest solely on your shoulders Dean,"
Dean let the comment slide knowing addressing it wouldn't change either of their opinions.
"I'm not even sure I can trust him," Dean admitted. "He promised he would help me find my brother but, face it we are on opposites sides of a no holds bar war. He has an ulterior motive, I know I would, and I know he isn't telling me everything.
Jo patted his knee. "We'll find Sam." she insisted. "The rest you can play by ear. If the angel is like the rest of them, you will always have us. Me, my mom, Bobby and Sam."
Dean nodded. He knew Cas was hiding something from him; he knew more than he let on about Sammy and his disappearance but Dean realized that if push came to shove he didn't need him to find his brother. He didn't need Cas to keep him safe he was more than capable of doing that on his own, and the resistance was still his family the same as it always had been they would help him.
His attraction to Cas was just that, a biological need. There was nothing wrong with wanting Cas he was only human after all, but he needed to keep his head about him. He was neck deep in politics he didn't understand with an agenda that wasn't his own. He would be crazy to let his cock lead him in this.
His only problem was convincing said cock that he didn't want to be crazy.
He hadn't gotten laid in four years, he woke up horny went to bed horny and was generally horny and grouchy because of it all day. Not being able to find his brother wasnt the only reason behind his frustrated mood. Still he didn't have the luxury of going to a bar and going home with the first man or woman to buy him a drink. Since publically he was meant to be Cas's Limlal he wasn't allowed to have sex with anyone but his master or anyone his master ordered him to have sex with, technically he needed Cas's permission to get his own rocks off but he sure as hell wasn't asking Cas permission to jerk himself off.
He probably could ask Cas if he could go to a bar for a hook up the angels probably had special permission slips and everything but he had too much pride for that at least currently. Not to mention if he went out on his own it would mean he'd lose his head, and he wasn't talking about his life. Betraying one's master meant you'd never have the chance to do it again. It didn't matter that he wasn't truly Cas's sex slave everyone thought he was so if he went carousing without permission there went his favorite piece of anatomy.
Before he went to hell he wasn't very choosy. He wouldn't go so far to say he was Aromantic, but he never stayed with anyone long. The thought of someday settling down with a family haunted his dreams sometimes he would dream of Lisa this brunette he knew for a weekend during the war, sometimes it was with a man but he never dreamed of a particular man until recently. Lately, the man he saw in his dreams was a bit shorter than him with light coffee colored hair a hint of sexy stubble on his face with the most stunning blue eyes he ever knew. He wouldn't go so far as to say it was supposed to be Cas, but he wouldn't say that it wasn't him either.
He knew that he could probably charm Jo into a mutually satisfying arrangement, but while his dick said yes his heart wasn't in it. There was too much baggage and history there with Jo for them to use each other like that, and she was drunk. He stood unsteadily and hauled Jo up with him. She teetered and nearly fell. He forgot how much she was just a little slip of a woman and while Jo could drink with the best of them her body had its limits if her bravado didn't.
"Let's get you to bed." he insisted knowing she would sleep better in his bed then on the cot he had set up in the garage.
"Are you coming with me?" she wondered it wasn't an invitation more of a question, he would never know her response because he shook his head.
"Not tonight Jo," she nodded then flopped lazily onto the bed he helped her shed the jacket he knew her shotgun and backpack would be safe in the garage. She shed her shirt and jeans leaving her in a black bra and a matching pair of black panties that made him regret that he was a gentleman, but he wasn't going to play around with her feelings.
He left the room when she decided she wanted to sleep naked. He was a horny bastard, but he wasn't an asshole.
He sought out his much less comfortable cot in the garage. He would talk to Cas in the morning. He wasn't staying out of the loop any longer. He knew Cas was just trying to keep him safe but playing up this bullshit charade of being his master, but Dean was sick of it. He knew how he could find Sam, and he wasn't going to let Cas waste time doing it his way. The next chance he got Dean was doing it his way.
Castiel didn't go home immediately after he spoke to Ruby. He did his due diligence in researching this Anna Milton. As far as he could tell she was a real person, but her history was sparse. Her father was a religious leader her mother taught second graders, but there was no pictures or further information he could find on her. It was disturbing. Typically angels could find most of what they needed to know about humans from social media alone, but he could not even find a picture of the woman. It was unusual. It made his stomach crawl at the thought of the computer experience it would require for a person to hide themselves this well from the angelic order.
Either the demons wanted this girl for themselves so much that they erased much of her information to impede and any unwanted aide or discovery from an outside party. Or perhaps the woman herself had the knowledge, and the means to disappear from the angelic eyes and did so for nefarious purposes.
The sky was just now showing the first hints of dawn nearing seven o'clock as Castiel returned home. While he did not like the idea of rousing Dean from bed this early, he knew that it was his only option. He valued Dean's insight. He had a knack for seeing the potential dangers of a situation and while he typically disregarded the danger in favor of charging into to quote "save the day" he did have a keen eye for strategy.
His mind made up he made his way towards Dean's bedroom.
During the course of the night, he had removed his tie and undone the topmost buttons of his shirt in an effort to get more comfortable with his research. Angels were meant to convey an air of formality hence the reason they adopted human formal wear for the day to day use rather than wearing their own culture's clothing, but sometime Castiel found it to be very uncomfortable.
He opened the door and approached the figure in the bed meaning to gently wake him.
It wasn't until he was right upon them that he realized that the person in bed was not Dean but a scarred naked human female.
Much to his shame Castiel noticed that it was the naked adjective that most troubled him.
Castiel backed away slowly so he wouldn't wake her.
She was naked in Dean's bed likely after having spent the night having sex with Dean.
He closed the door quietly and retreated to his chamber.
He sat heavily on his bed. He wasn't sure why the presence of the woman surprised him. Hadn't he offered the same thing to Dean when he first offered him the position as his Limla. He had offered him good food good lodgings and his pick of lovers.
Dean wasn't his Bilora he was free to sleep with anyone he chose, but he had yet to, to his knowledge. She was the first person he had seen. Castiel wasn't sure why he was so surprised Dean was a human male, after all, one with legendary prowess and insatiability and yet it bothered him that the human had him.
She was able to touch all the skin he had been lusting inappropriately at. He was jealous. Green with envy was not a color that suited him and yet he couldn't stop the feeling. He knew he should talk to Dean that discretion was key because while he had no right to deny Dean if he were found out it would not end well for Dean. Part of him knew that he hadn't given him carte blanch because the idea of Dean losing himself in another person bothered him. It might have been a simple oversight on his part, but it might also stem from his repressed desire.
If perhaps late at night he entertained the idea of crawling into Dean's bed and begging to be the one to service him how could he deny that the desire existed.
Castiel ignored jealousy he knew that he had to speak to Dean. If they wanted to find Anna Milton, he needed to put both his jealousy and his desire for Dean behind him. However rather than face Dean he simply activated the household's intercom. He rarely used it, but it was a way to communicate with household staff without knowing where they were and while it was not private his request would not sound too unorthodox.
Dean woke to the sound of a loudspeaker over his head saying his name.
"Dean Winchester," it was Cas's voice the gravelly tone was tighter than normal meaning he was likely pressed for time or patience. Dean noticed he sounded like that when he was irritated.
"Please report to my bedroom, immediately your presence is required. "
Dean's head ached and he couldn't be sure he read the situation he could have sworn that Cas just booty called him over a loudspeaker and rather than piss him off. It kind of turned him on damn his demented horny brain.
Castiel watched as Dean entered the room his right hand, and forearm were bandaged, and he wore dark blue grey sleeveless shirt and a ratty pair a blue jeans. He looked like sex. Castiel let the notion slid over his brain without comment. It didn't matter how good Dean looked this wasn't about that. It was about Anna Milton and the possibility of finding Sam.
Castiel had decided that while it would be in his best interest to lie to Dean and tell him that Anna had information that would lead to his brother Castiel wasn't sure it would so he would tell Dean the truth or at least as much of it as he dared.
Anna Milton was a person of interest wanted by both the demons and angels for questioning. What she knew might involve his brother it might not. He would have to trust that Dean's empathy would not stand for another human returned to a prison much like the one he escaped because Castiel knew he wouldn't be able to do it alone.
Dean wasn't sure what he was walking into. If Cas ordered him to fuck him right there right now, he wasn't sure what he would do. It was most likely his hormones interfering with his brain because Cas had said on multiple occasions that he wasn't planning on having sex with him. Still Dean knew when someone was attracted to him, and Cas was looking at him like he wanted him.
"Dean I need your help."
The seriousness in his tone reminded him to focus "With what?"
"Finding a woman named Anna Milton, she was a prisoner of the demons and I need to speak to her, my source says that she might have information on your brother, but my source is unreliable at best. This may be a demonic trap."
Dean nodded, and Castiel wasn't sure what to make of his stillness.
"Alright, let's go." Dean finally answered. The words seemed simple on the surface, but the impact was greater. Dean was trusting him in this. He didn't question his motives or what he wanted him to do he simply agreed to go with him.
Whatever was going on between them beneath the surface didn't matter they had a mission, and they both understood what that meant. They were soldiers first, and the mission was always what mattered, but they were also friends and Dean was beginning to trust him. Which only made Castiel feel worse about keeping some of the truth from him. Still Dean didn't need to know rumors about his brother that would only hurt him. He needed truth.
Anna Milton's parents live near here if we want to get there before the demons do I suggest we hurry.
XXX
Sorry for the delay had lots of personal and computer problems. I hope to post again sooner.