AN: I'll be going out of town this weekend so as per usually not-being-able-to-post-on-Saturday protocol, I'm posting a little early. Time for some clarity about those tats.
"You mean you don't know?" Cas replied," How could you not?"
"Another universe, honey," The female angel said, "Things are probably different there for angels."
"If by that you mean they don't have weird tattoos on their arms, then yes," Sam replied, "So what are they?" Now his interest was piqued as well.
Castiel got this grave expression-well, even graver than he usually looked, as he said, "A mark of our persecution."
Lawrence, Kansas
Six Months Ago
"So this is it?" Dean asked as the his boss lead him to the warding-covered hallway.
"Yep," His boss, Victor Hendrickson replied, "The Angel Cell Block."
The young corrections officer gulped as he surveyed the eerily quiet hall, coded with creepy doodling, one other guard standing at the door. How he let Benny talk him into taking his shift, he'd never know.
"I read in your files that you've had the training for this block," Hendrickson said, double checking everything.
"Yeah," Dean replied. He had took series of classes required to work on this block on a bar bet. It was a decision he was regretting at this moment.
"I still have to go over the basics with you," Hendrickson explained, "The angels are to be sedated at all times. They don't always go completely unconscious, but it's usually keeps them docile. In the case something does happen, the procedure is to trank them," Hendrickson pointed to the tranquilizer gun Dean had been given, "If it's really bad you're authorized to use lethal force. You're also required to look through the slot every hour on the hour to make sure no funny business is going on. Don't talk to the angels, don't let them talk to you. Right now there are only two angels. You'll be watching our newest arrival. If you need any help, ask Trenton."
The man Hendrickson was referring to reached out and shook Dean's hand, "Call me, Cole."
"Now that that's done, I have some paperwork to fill out." Hendrickson said, "Good luck Winchester."
And with that, he left, leaving Dean alone with Cole.
"It's Dean right?" Cole asked.
"Yeah," Dean replied taking his spot by the door.
"Don't worry, Dean," Cole said, giving Dean a reassuring smile, "We hardly ever have any trouble from these guys, and no one's ever died. Relax, everything will be fine."
That made Dean feel a little better, but it also reinforced that Benny so owed him for this.
Everything went fine for the first hour. Then Dean pulled back the slot, revealing and dark-haired figure in a tan coat, on his knees, head bowed in the middle of a room covered with even more angel warding. At the sound of the slot he lifted up his head revealing the most intense blue eyes Dean have ever seen. It felt like they were staring into Dean's very soul.
"Dean!" Cole said snapping his fingers to get his attention.
Dean jolted back to reality. "Sorry," He said, "Don't know what got into me."
"These angels," Cole said, "They do things to your mind sometimes. You'll get use to it."
"I really hope I don't stay here long enough for that to happen," Dean replied.
That was enough time for the angel to notice its fellow prisoner, a prim-looking female Seraph, and got closer to the slot, calling out, "Sister?"
When she didn't respond, he tried again, "Sister, please, just talk to me! I know in Heaven I am of an inferior caste, but in this wilderness of exile, aren't we all equals?!"
"Hey!" Cole shouted, leaning over and banging on the door, "That's enough out of you!" He was about to go for his trank gun when Dean reached out to stop him. He saw something in the angel's eyes, fear, desperation. The poor creature was convinced he was going to die soon, and he just wanted to hear someone's voice before he did, maybe have one last conversation.
"You can talk to me," Dean offered.
Now the poor angel was at the back of the cell, in an almost defensive position, his eyes wide.
"Dean, what the Hell are you doing?" Cole hissed. This broke about fifteen different kinds of protocol.
"Look at him, Cole," He said, gesturing to the creature in the cell, "He's afraid."
Cole looked in the cell, and seeing that what Dean had said was gross understatement, felt a pang of pity for their captive. "Alright," He said, "I'm gonna turn my back, you do what you gotta do."
"Hey," Dean said softly, trying to coax the angel out from the corner, "My name's Dean, this is Cole."
"Leave me out of this," Cole said, edging further away from the scene.
Dean ignored him, saying, "What's yours?"
The angel looked up at him, "What's my what?" He asked in gravely baritone.
"Your name," Dean replied patiently.
"Castiel," The angel answered.
"That's a nice name," Dean replied, "So how long have you been in here?"
"Two days, I think," Castiel replied.
"Well, that's not long," Dean said reassuringly, "Nice little thing like you, someone will snatch you up soon enough."
Dean was barely old enough to walk when the Fall happened, but he knew the ramifications of it. It was bedlam for the first few years. No one knew why all the angels have fallen, something they did, some sort of test from God, summoning ritual gone really, really wrong, no one knew. Though the angels didn't require food or any of the other necessities of life requires by normal humans, the sudden lack of room on the planet was disconcerting. It was a boon for the church, though. Standing room only. At least for those who weren't so devastated by their entire belief system being shattered that they killed themselves. And then there was the fear that these new creatures posed a threat to humanity. Granted, the angels didn't help themselves. Shattered, and shaken, several of them reacted with violence, dividing into warring factions, and humans got caught in the crossfire. As a way of steaming the tide, the nations of the world subjugated the species. Some countries forced them into sectors, separate from humans. Others tagged them to keep tract of them. The harshest method was killing them almost immediately on capture. At least until angel rights' activists began to protest pointing out that lest than half of the angel population had been involved in the Incidents. And so, the Claiming system was born. Upon capture an angel was given two weeks, and if a human claimed them, bonding them, they were safe. When the two weeks were up, if no one came forward to claim them, the angel was put down.
"And what then?" Castiel asked, "Wind up in the fights? Selling my body to people attracted to angels? Being worked to death in some sweat shop?"
Dean paused a minute. While things like that were strictly prohibited, he knew the system could be abused that way. "There are safeguards in place to keep that from happening," Dean replied. Only one angel was allowed per-person, and in addition to keeping track of claimed angels, the registry kept people from double dipping.
"There are ways to get around those," Castiel pointed out, "I had a friend die from what they did to him in one of those places. They used him up and tossed him out behind some trash cans like he was garbage. I just happened to find him." He paused a minute, a look of anguish on his face. "His back was ripped opened, and he had burns and cuts everywhere. I tried to heal him, but...there was too much damage. He died in my arms." Now the angel's eyes shined with unshed tears. He quickly whipped them away, hoping his captors didn't see.
Dean's heart clenched inside his chest. He could tell from the look on his face that the horrible incident he just relayed was seared into Castiel's memory, and it still hurt. And now he was certain the same thing was going to happen to him. Dean just wanted to try to ease his fears a little a bit, somehow. "There's always the church," Dean offered, "We got novivces coming in here from one denomination or another a couple of times a week." It had became a requirement of many monasteries and convents to claim an angel as part of taking one's vows. "Right Cole?" He figured Cole would know better than he was.
"Staying out this," Cole replied, "But yeah, give or take."
"So my options are death, enslavement, or being locked away in a cloister the rest of my life," Castiel said bitterly, "Which is only as long as my bonded's."
"Aren't you a little ray of sunshine," Dean said, sarcastically, but good naturedly.
Castiel blinked, not getting Dean's attempt at levity.
"Never mind." Dean replied.
"Can I ask you a question, Dean?" The angel asked.
"Sure," Dean said, though he was afraid of where this was going.
"I wasn't involved in any of the Incidents," Castiel began," I've kept my head down, stayed out trouble, never hurt anyone, in fact, when I was caught I was trying to help someone."
Dean nodded.
"So why am I here?" Castiel's eyes had the intense look in them that had entranced Dean earlier.
Dean didn't have an answer.
For the rest of the day Dean couldn't stop thinking about Castiel. The angel had done nothing wrong, and yet he was going to spin the last two weeks of his life sedated in cold, barren cell, then killed, just for being an angel. And if not he was going to be carted off to an uncertain fate, completely at the mercy of whoever claimed him. It wasn't fair. It wasn't just. And there was nothing Dean could do about it. Until, he realized, there was.
The second he could Dean picked up his cell phone and called his little brother. "Hey, Sam," He said, after his brother picked up, "What's the procedure for claiming an angel?"
The next day, someone opened the door to Castiel's cell. Groggy from sedatives, he looked up and saw two men standing there, one of them holding a pair of sigil-covered chains. They walked up to him raising his head while the other one put a shackle around his neck. Then after securing his hands behind his back and shackling his lead, they pulled him up by the neck chain and lead him out of his cell and down the hall.
Chained and sluggish from the drugs they kept giving him, it was hard for Castiel to keep up with the officers. His mind was spinning. What was going on? Where were they taking him? They couldn't being taking him to be put down, it had only been three days!
"Get the lead out, angel!" One of the men said, pulling on the chain, causing Cas to nearly topple over but the other man caught him. "What the Hell Macavoy?!" A voice Castiel was surprised he recognized exclaimed, "Don't do that!"
"It's not my fault the wing-nut's clumsy," Macavoy said, uncaring.
Castiel cringed a little bit at the slur.
"You try walking with your hands tied behind your back," The other man, Cole, if Cas was remembering correctly, spat back as he took the chain.
The rest of the walk was uneventful until at last they came to a nondescript brown door. Macavoy opened the door, and he and Cole pushed Castiel in. In the room a dark-skinned man in a suit was standing behind a brown desk. There were also a few other chains in the room, in which two man sat. One was a rather grim looking man in a baseball cap, the other one was Dean, the guard that had been so nice to him yesterday.
Now Castiel was really confused.
"Sit him down there," The man in the suit said, pointing to the chair beside Dean.
The men walked him over to the chair and roughly shoved him into it. "W-what's going on?" Castiel finally managed to asked.
"This is Dean Winchester," The man explained, as if he didn't already know about his and Dean's talk yesterday and chose to ignore it, "You've been claimed by him."
Cas looked over to the man in shock. Dean had claimed him? Why?
Dean gave him a small smile. "I told you it would work out," He whispered where only the two of them could hear, "They just have to perform the binding spell, then I can get you out of here."
"Trenton," The man in charge was saying, "Unchain him, please."
As Cole did that, the man in the cap stood up, flipping open a large, old, leather-bound book. "I'm gonna need you two to stand up."
Dean stood up, helping Cas to his feet as well.
"Now you need to take each other's left hand and hold them out," The man instructed. They did as he said and then he wrapped a black cord around each of their wrist. Then he said " Hani adl ," He began, " Ils am oi hrath, balazadoreji o bab pilf o iares Amen ."
Suddenly Dean felt a burning sensation throughout his entire body. Then he realized that Cas's hand felt like it was fire, when suddenly the angel started screaming. Dean looked at his hand and realized it was glowing red, the some sort of imagine coming up from the skin. When the light faded he saw an image engraved into the skin on Castiel's arm. Suddenly the angel just collapsed, Dean catching him. "Is he alright?" Dean was really afraid something had gone wrong.
"Yeah," The man who performed the ritual said, "The angel's just the one most affected. He'll come around in a few minutes. But there might be some after affects in the next few days."
"Like what?" Dean asked, starting to worry.
"Basically it will be like he has a bad flu," The man explained, "Possibly some vomiting."
"I thought angels didn't need to eat," Dean asked trying to keep track of everything he needed to know.
"They apparently still have bile," The man replied.
"That why I suggested you use a few of your sick days," Hendrickson spoke up, "Now, we have all the paperwork filled out, and the information on chip's been updated, but you'll still need to have him inked." He handed him a stack of pamphlets. "Here are some local places that do that."
"Thanks," Dean said, taking the pamphlets with one hand and supporting Cas with the other. "Is that everything or is there something else I have to do?"
"No," Hendrickson replied, "You can take him home."
Dean somehow managed to carry Cas out to his car and ease him into the shotgun seat. He then got into the driver's seat and started looking through the stack of pamphlets. Sam had warned him getting an angel processed was a lot of work, but he hadn't been expecting all this. He wasn't even sure if he should get this all done now or wait until the sickness period was over. No, it was best if he got it over with now.
When they pulled up to tattoo parlor, Cas was still asleep so Dean gently nudged his shoulder saying, "Cas, Cas, wake up, buddy."
The angel woke up slight start. He shook his head, looking confused.
"We're at the tattoo place," Dean said, "There are a couple of things we still need to do, okay?"
Castiel nodded.
Dean got out and then walked over to the passenger side and opened the door, offering a Cas a hand. He took it wearily, trying to figure out Dean's angle was. Was this merely altruism, or was he looking for some sort of exotic pet, or was there something sinister at play? Until he knew for sure, he was going to stay on high alert. Or at least as high an alert as he could while he was struggling to stay awake. But he was starting to come to as the young woman strapped him into the chair.
"You want me to give him some anesthetic?" The woman asked.
"Cas?" Dean asked, looking at the angel expectantly. He knew was going to have to gain the angel's trust, so he wasn't going to make any important choices like this for him.
"No," Castiel answered, "I'll be fine without it." He didn't want to do anything that could even possibly be perceived as weakness in front of Dean, and he could handle a little pain.
"You sure?" Dean asked, "That's a lot of area to cover."
"I will be fine," Castiel insisted.
The woman looked over to Dean.
"It's his choice," Dean replied.
"Suit yourself," The woman said, getting the needle ready.
Castiel gritted his teeth as the woman started her work. Dean could see he was clearly in pain, and put his hand in the angel's right hand, and not thinking Cas started to squeeze it for all it was worth. It hurt and cut off Dean's circulation, but he didn't complain.
Getting less than half way up his arm, the woman asked, "You want to take a break?"
Both Cas and Dean nodded.
The woman walked away and Cas let go of Dean's hand and he could feel the blood start rushing back to it. "Look, Cas, this wouldn't be what they gave you at the prison," Dean whispered, "It's just a local. You'd have complete control of your mental faculties. It'd just numb you a little."
"It's just a little pain," Cas said, trying to stay strong, "I can handle it."
"Except, it's not just a little pain," Dean argued, "She has to ink the whole area of the mark, and that's going to take a least half an..." Dean's voice trailed off as he started to get what was going on. "Look Cas, no one is going to think any less of you if you take a little pain relief. It's a miracle you've gone through this without any this far."
"Alright," Castiel snapped, just wanting Dean to let it go, "I'll let her give me the anesthetic."
After that, the whole ordeal went a lot easier. There was still some discomfort, but it wasn't as seering. Soon, the woman was covering the newly tattooed mark with a white bandage, and they were headed back to Dean's apartment.
"This is it," Dean said, opening the door and gesturing for Castiel to come in. The apartment was small, the kitchen area and the living room connected with one short, narrow hallway that lead to a bedroom and a bathroom.
"I know it's not much," Dean said.
"It's nice," Cas said, looking around.
"You can sit down on the couch," Dean said, gesturing to furnishing in question, "I'll get you some blankets for tonight."
"I don't require sleep," Cas informed him.
Dean froze a minute. "Oh," He said, "So what do you all night?"
"Before I was captured I usually spent nights on the move," Castiel explained," Or hiding. In the prison I was so drugged most I couldn't do much of anything, and I couldn't really tell time. I guess, I'll just...sit here."
"You do have a couple more options," Dean suggested, "There are some old magazines and books in that basket over there, just, don't look at the ones with the hot girls on the covers," was dealing with an angel after all, " You could also go out on the fire escape if you need some air, " He pointed to the window that lead out to the fires escape, "And hey, there's always the idiot box. Just keep it down when I'm asleep."
The angel just started at Dean unsure of what he was talking about.
Dean walked over to the cough and sat down beside him. "You see that?" He said pointing at his old box TV.
"Yes," Cas replied, unsure of where this was going.
"It's what we call a television," Dean explained, "TV for short. Basically..." His voice trailed off, trying to figure out the best way to explain the concept.
"I know what a television is," Cas replied, "I just didn't realize it had so many different names."
Dean made a note to work on broadening Castiel's vocabulary later. "Well do you know how to work one?"
"Not really," Cas answered.
Dean picked up the remote and held it out where they both can see it. "This," He began, pointing to one of the larger buttons, "Is the one you use to turn on and off. This," He put his thumb by one of the long ones, "Is what you use to go up and down between channels, and this one beside it," he pointed to the opposite one, "Is what you use for sound. This one turned it up, this one turns it down and..." Dean's voice trailed off as he saw stiff and uncomfortable Cas looked, "You can relax, you know. Loosen up a bit, take your coat off."
That made Cas go even stiffer and his eyes widened. Dean was about to ask what was wrong when he remembered what the angel had said yesterday about people with things for angels. "Because it's sorta silly to wear a coat in your own home." He added quickly, "And this is your home now. Look, I don't have any agenda. No fetishes, no profit, I just wanted to get you out of there and this seemed more doable then changing the law in less than two weeks."
Castiel looked at the human strait on. He wanted to believe Dean, he really did, but still wasn't sure. "I understand," He said, "But if it's all the same to you, I'd like to keep my coat on."
"That's just fine," Dean said. He knew that getting Cas to trust him and feel comfortable was going to be marathon, not a sprint.
Later on that night Dean went to bed, leaving Castiel alone to contemplate everything that had just happened. The last 24 had been dizzying for the angel, everything was happening so quickly. Just starting to think about made him need some air. Didn't Dean say he could go out if he wanted? He walked over to the window, opened it, and threw himself over the side, on foot touching the metal floor, then the other. He walked over to the railing, wrapping hands around it and looking up at the star-filled sky. He thought he would never see the sky again. Now it was suddenly infinitely precious.
Then he looked back down and caught the bandage on his hand, and remembered the strings attached. Maybe he could still run. If he could somehow how get the chip they put in the back of his neck upon his capture out he could do it. As long as they didn't think Dean helped him, all he would get was a fine. And it's not like he owed Dean anything. He had only know the man a day. The tattoo was little more of a problem, however. The whole reason that was the standard binding spell, why they inked the mark was to let the world know that he was an angel. And this time, if he was caught, no second chances. He'd be killed instantly.
"Hey," A female voice called down from above, pulling Castiel from his thoughts.
He looked up and saw a woman with little-less-than-shoulder-length brown hair, sort of curly at the bottom, and cloudy blue eyes that were staring down at him. "What are you doing out this late?"
Suddenly Cas felt as if he had been caught in something wrong."I'm allowed to be out here," He said almost defensively, "My human said I could come out here."
"Don't worry, brother," She said, rolling up her sleeve revealing her own, more intricate, markings, "I won't tell anyone."
It took Cas a minute to comprehend what had just happen. "Oh."
"Can I come down?" The female angel asked.
"Certainly," Cas replied, pleased to finally see another angel.
The female angel slung herself over the railing of her own fire escape, then leapt to the one Cas was standing on. "Name's Hannah," She said, crossing her legs and leaning against the railing, "And you?"
"Castiel," He replied.
"Please to meet you," Hannah replied, "I didn't know Mr. Winchester had an angel."
"He just claimed me today," Cas explained.
"Oh," Hannah, said, now her turn to be at a loss for words, "Are you alright?"
"Yes," Cas answered, "My arm's just a little sore where they inked in the markings."
"What about the after sickness?" Hannah asked, "Has it sat in?"
"Not yet," Cas replied, "Is it bad?"
"I'm told it can vary but in my experience it's not pleasant," Hannah answered, cringing at the memory, "My head felt like someone was using it for war drums, the life zapped out of me, and I emptied my stomach contents into a bucket and my stomach didn't even have any contents. Poor Bella was scared out of her mind, everything she did just seem to make it worse."
"Bella?" Castiel asked.
"My bonded," Hannah elaborated, "She lied about her age when she claimed me. She just fifteen, just a kid." Suddenly she looked very anxious and sad.
"Is something troubling you?" Cas asked.
"It's just..." Hannah's voice trailed off, before saying, "I don't even know where she is right now. We use to share everything and a few months ago she started getting cagey, secretive. I mean, she's like that a lot with other people, but never with me. And it's not like I don't know she's into some shady dealings. What could she be doing that's so terrible she doesn't think she can tell me?"
"Humans," Cas shrugged, "Who knows why they do what they do?"
"Not her," Hannah said, shaking her head," No my Bella."
Cas was silent for a moment. "You really care about her don't you?"
"Yes," Hannah replied.
And so the two angels began unburdening themselves to each other. Hannah told him how she met Bella, of travel across the country with her and how they looked out for each other, how she much preferred the wide open spaces, and rural areas where they were less strict, than they were now, or how her human had changed since they came here. Castiel told him of migrating across the country, getting separated from his group, of lonely nights on back roads, making the mistake of healing the wrong person who called for the police, leading to him being tested and tranked, having his wings bound, and meeting Dean. Around five, he started feeling oddly lethargic.
"Okay," Hannah, recognizing what was happening, "Let's get you back inside." Then she took him by the arm and pulled him over to the window, walking him over to the couch and laying him down on it. "There you go. I'll be back in a little bit with something that'll help, okay?"
Suddenly very out of it, Cas just nodded.
Dean woke that morning to the sound of someone reaching. He leapt up, ran out and saw Castiel, halfway down the hall flat on his stomach head hanging limply above a pile of clear puke.
"Cas!" He shouted rushing to the angel's side. "What happened?" He asked as he pulled Cas up.
"I started to feel...sick," Cas began weakly, "I tried to get to the bathroom, but...I didn't make it. I'm sorry, Dean."
"Hey," Dean hushed, "It's okay, you couldn't help it. Now, let's get you laid down somewhere."
Dean walked Cas to the bedroom and laid him down on the bed, wiped the bile from his month, then noticing how warm his skin felt underneath the tissue, felt his forehead. "God, you're burning up." He pulled Cas' coat and suit jacket off, the which the angel didn't even protest, which worried him even more after how adamant the angel had been just the night before. He wondered if this was all part of the after effects they were talking about yesterday, or if this was real problem. Should he take him to the hospital? Would they even see an angel? He had to think. What had his parents done whenever he or Sam was running a temp like this?
Dean ran to the bathroom, made sure the water coming out of the faucet was ice cold, and wet a wash cloth, then ran back to his room. "There we go," He said, gingerly placing the cloth on Cas' forehead, "I don't know how well this actually works, but it's the best I can think of."
"Dean..."Cas groaned.
"Yeah?" Dean asked.
"I think I'm going to..." Cas' voice trailed off.
Realizing what was about to happen, Dean quickly pulled a wastepaper basket to the bedside, just in time for Cas to vomit in it.
A few minutes later Dean was staring at a bottle of aspirin, how much he should give Castiel, who's fever still hasn't gone down, and now also had a pounding headache. Would this even work? He had no clue how an angels metabolism worked. Did anyone? He was seriously considering taking Cas to the nearest hospital and demanding they treat him when there was a knock on the door. "Winchester!" A British accented female voice shouted, "Opened up."
"Seriously?" Dean said aloud, "Now?" He hadn't had many interactions with his upstairs neighbor, but the ones he had hadn't exactly been pleasant. Whatever she wanted it was just going to have to wait.
"I know you're in there!" Bella shouted, "So you can let me in or I can kick down the door!"
Dean sighed, and opened the door, and found Bella standing there with a brown paper bag.
"Look, Bella, this isn't really a good time-" Dean began.
"Actually, it's perfect," Bella said, walking through the threshold, pushing past him, and heading towards the kitchen.
"By all means, come in," Dean said, annoyed.
"Don't a smartass, I'm here to help," She replied, rummaging through his cabinets, "Hannah told me about your new addition."
That's when Dean took notice of the Bella's companion, standing uncomfortably in the hallway. She rubbed her wrist, and Dean noticed the black ink.
"What, do they like, sense each other?" Dean asked, gesturing for her to come in.
"I met him out back last night," Hannah offer in way of explanation as she walked in, "I was with him when it started setting him."
"Yes, and she was rather insistent that we come over and help," Bella said, finally taking a mug down from the cabinet, and pouring a liquid the color of urine in the snow from a clear beaker into it, "Sorry, it took so while, these things just take some time to find. Now, where's the patient?"
Dean lead the pair down the hallway down to his room where Cas was flat on his stomach, his head hanging over the waste basket, only semi-conscious.
Bella walked over to the bed and sat down on the side, pulling Castiel up. "Here," She said, putting the cup up to his lips, "Drink this." He took one sip and pulled back a little. "Now, I know it's awful," Bella said softly, "But it's going to make you feel a lot better." She helped his head meet the cup and Cas drank, too sick to question it. "There you go." She added encouragingly.
Dean blinked, not believing what he was seeing. This was nicest he'd ever seen her be to anyone. Ever.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Bella asked, once Cas had finished the mug.
"It was bitter," Cas managed, "And felt like swallowing a frog."
"You'll thank me when you stop puking your guts out," Bella said, then began to rummage through the bag again, coming up with a plain white bottle. She opened it, pouring out three plastic-coded pills, and place them in Cas' hand. "For the fever." She explained.
Cas put them in his mouth and somehow managed to dry swallow. Pulling put a packet of dark-colored lozenges in clear wrapping. "Open up," She said after unwrapping one.
Cas complied, allowing Bella to put it in his mouth before shutting it.
"Just let it dissolve," Bella instructed, "By the time that's done it will be in your bloodstream and the headache will be gone. Other than that, lay back and try to get some sleep. Believe me, it's better if your just unconscious for the next couple of days."
"Thank you," Cas said, laying down on his back.
"Thank her," Bella said, pointing to her angel, who was standing next to Dean, "She was the one who sounded the alarm."
Emboldened, Hannah gingerly approached the bed saying, "I told you I'd be back didn't I?"
"So, ah, how long have you had Hannah?" Dean asked, later, sitting on the couch with Bella.
"First off," Bella said, clutching her cup of coffee, "Don't say it like that, you make it sound like she's a pet. She's not, she's a sentient being."
"Okay," Dean said, seeing Bella's point, "How long have you in Hannah...lived together, I guess?"
"About ten years," Bella answered, "I has just got to this country and some bastard attacked me, or tried to at least, and she just - there, just like that, pulling him off of me and beating the Hell out of him until he ran off whimpering like a kicked puppy."
"That girl in there?" Dean asked, pointing down the hall, "The one that came in you with? "
Bella nodded. "You know what they say about the quiet ones. I asked if there was anything I could do to thank and she asked if I would consider bonding with her, or at least acting like I was bonded with her because a couple of angel catchers were on her closing in on her. I wasn't in a good place at time, my parents had died a year before, I was dealing some other...things at the time, and she was the first person to every actually helped me and she needed my help, so I did what I could."
"And the law was just okay with this?" Dean asked. It had took him most of yesterday and the night before to get through all the red tape, and that had been with Cas already processed and his lawyer brother greasing the wheels. Dean doubted one could just walk into city hall with an unchipped, free-winged angel and say they wanted to claim them.
"I acted like I was turning her in," Bella explained, "Mentioned she was actually good company and I wanted to claim her, and they handed over the paper work."
"And did she-" Dean began, referring to the sickness.
"Yeah," Bella replied, "And neither of us knew what to do then, poor thing. And everything I did seemed to just make it worst. If I hadn't had found an online forum I don't know what we would have done. And even then, it was trial and error...mostly error. But hey, at least someone can befit from our misery."
"Ain't that the truth," Dean said, taking a sip from his coffee before another question occurred to him. "Did the forum say anything about why it makes them so sick, did it?"
"The approve bonding spells," Bella explained in a tone that made it clear what she thought of them, "Are designed to even weaken the angel or suppress their abilities all together. This is Castiel's body's ways of protesting. "
"What, like it's actually trying to fight off the spell?" Dean asked.
"That's the theory, at least," Bella said, almost mournfully, "But the spell always wins in the end. In few days he'll be okay, except for being permanently crippled."
Suddenly Dean felt sick to his stomach. "You, know I never gave much thought to it before," Dean said, almost bitterly, "But the claiming system really sucks."
"Imagine if you're an angel," Bella replied.
That night, after Bella finally dragged Hannah home, Dean went to check on the Cas. He was curled up on his side, under a blanket twitching a little in sleep. Dean sat down by the bed, and checked felt Cas' forehead. It was started to feel warm again. How long ago had he taken the fever pills? Bella said he could take them every five hours. Dean checked the clock. It was one more hour before he could take them again. Well, he wasn't that hot, anyway. And he looked so peaceful, more than he had all day, Hell, more than he had since they met. Dean didn't see any reason to wake him up right now. Suddenly he felt his eyes drop. He didn't see any reason why he couldn't rest his eyes as well.
When Castiel's eyes fluttered opened he was a bit confused. He rose up, the blanket that must have placed over him at some point, though he didn't remember, slid off, so it pulled around his legs. Looking around, he saw Dean, lying a few inches from him. Concerned, over to him. He was still breathing. That was a good sign. He was just asleep. Cas realized Dean was probably exhausted from tended to him today. Therefore he didn't want to wake him up, so he stayed as still as he possibly could.
When Dean woke up he was startled by the pair of blue eyes staring out him, so he jolted and backed away a little. "What the Hell, Cas?!"
The angel leapt back as well, with that wild look. "My apologies, Dean."
"Didn't anybody ever tell you it's rude to stare?" Dean asked, breathing heavily.
"Um..no, not really," A rather abased Castiel replied.
"You scared the Hell out of me," Dean continued, "Why were you watching me sleep, anyway?"
"When I saw you here, I thought something must be wrong," Cas explained, shifting uncomfortably, "But then you were still breathing, and I didn't want to wake you, so...I stayed quiet so I wouldn't make any noise."
"Oh," Dean said, now feeling a bit bad for snapping, "Well, that was thoughtful, I guess." Wanting to change the subject, he added, "How are you feeling?"
"Better, I suppose," Cas answered. It was true for the most part. He was hot, but that was all.
"What about the fever?" Dean asked, "You felt a little warm earlier."
"Honesty?" Castiel asked, "I feel a lot warm now."
This was good, Dean thought. Cas was admitting that he was sick. He was starting to trust him. This was step in the right direction.
"Well, I think you take more of those pills," Dean said getting up, "Tell you what," He continued, opening the pill bottle, "We really owe your new friends."
"We are in agreement on that," Cas said coming up behind Dean and taking the pills from him.
Dean felt a little awkward, being so close to someone. "Ever heard of a little thing called personal space?"
"Sorry," Cas replied stepping back.
Dean chuckled a bit. It suddenly felt like he had adopted a child.
"Need anything else?" Dean ask Cas took some water to wash the pills down.
"No," Cas replied, "Like I said, I'm feeling much better."
"Still, you better lie down," Dean insisted, "Bella said that stuff would wear off eventually."
Castiel felt a pit in stomach and he sincerely hopped it was his fear of a repeat of this morning, rather than an actual repeat. "How long will I be like this?"
"According to all sources I've found," Dean began, "Two, three days tops."
Cas shook his head. This couldn't be happening.
"It'll be fine," Dean said, ""This is probably the worst of it. Just lie down, we'll get through this."
Cas complied, and Dean was about to leave when he called out, "Dean?"
Dean turned around. "Yeah?"
"Can you stay?"
"Sure," Dean said, sitting back down.
Lawrence Kansas
Present Day
"And that's everything," Cas finished.
"And the fog of smoke when we got here?" Dean asked.
"This one tried to cook," Hannah explained, gesturing to Castiel, "It didn't end well." He then gestured to the stove where a brunt blob that they assumed was suppose to a pie sitting on the stove top.
"It looks like it," Dean said, "Was that with or without her helping you?"
"Sadly this did happen on my watch," Hannah, admitted,"What can I say, cooking's not my strong suit, either. If it had been anything else-"
"Why you cooking, anyway?" Dean asked, "You don't eat."
"I, ah, don't think it was for him, Dean," Sam murmured.
"No," Cas admitted, looking down, "I wanted to surprise Dean, my Dean, that is. I just like doing nice things for him."
Dean chuckled, "Aren't you sweet."
Cas shuffled awkwardly, and Dean thought he might actually be blushing a little. Both Sam and Hannah were giving him reproachful looks for making him so uncomfortable.
"Sorry," Dean said quickly, "I didn't mean to-"
"No," Cas replied, "It's fine."
"You know what," Dean said, "We should probably be getting out of here."
"Definitely," Sam said, getting out the ingredients.
"Good luck," Castiel spoke up, seemingly recovered from his awkwardness.
"Thanks buddy," Dean replied, "Skicka dessa fiender härifrån till..."