Hot, blue and righteous

by Mistofstars

3 years ago, Dean had a heated ONS with a stranger called Castiel. But then he moved away and met Lisa, and Castiel met his boyfriend Aaron. Then Lisa suddenly died, leaving Dean at his wit's end, traveling the country and visiting Bobby. As he visits him some time again later, suddenly a beat-up Castiel shows up at Bobby's door, hiding from his abusive boyfriend Aaron. [DESTIEL]

20. Chapter 20

Bonus Chapter 1: Chapter 20 – Deus ex machina (2)

Dean was beyond himself with worry and confusion. Restlessly, he kept pacing up the living room and kitchen, not knowing what to do with himself. He had been right, though, hadn't he? His logical thinking had insisted that Castiel couldn't have seen Aaron, that none of this was really happening. But why did he have this strange gut feeling that something was terribly wrong, despite every sensible reason telling him there was nothing to worry about? It just didn't go away. What he knew for certain, however, was that Castiel was madly pissed at him, and after the initial shock of him fleeing the house had passed, Dean slowly started to understand why: Because he hadn't believed Cas, despite what rationality suggested. Dean stopped dead in his track in the kitchen, stared out the window, while bit down on his bottom lip absentmindedly. He kept mulling over their argument, kept seeing Castiel's frustrated, disappointed look. It tugged painfully at his heart to remember this facial expression of utter betrayal, how desperate Cas had seemed at Dean's unmindful words.

Now, as Dean looked out of the window, he realized it was almost dark, that only an orange afterglow of sunset was lingering in the sky. Unease spread within him – where had Cas gone to? Would he even return tonight or would he sleep somewhere else? A sudden thought crossed Dean's mind: What if Aaron was somewhere close by? And Cas was out there all alone! He didn't even think twice, but tied his boots, put on his favorite jeans jacket, and stormed out of the house to search for Cas. Outside it was fresh and smelt spicy, the heat of the day lingered in the air. Dean looked around as he walked down the streets, no one was in sight. Inside his head, he was ranting and raving with himself, all worst possible scenarios unfolding in his fantasy like a never-ending nightmare. If something happened to Cas now because of him, he would never forgive himself. For a second, he stopped, overwhelmed with deep anxiety for his partner. He breathed through several times, tried to soothe his nerves. With a quivering hand, he wiped over his eyes.

Then, as if he had lost his mind, he started running, not even consciously aware where he was heading to. He kept running down all the streets in their neighborhood until at last, he came towards the farm track leading towards the fields and groves behind their house. He was all out of breath, sweating and distraught, when he finally spotted a figure ahead in the twilight. Regardless of the distance, he recognized the shape, instinctively knew it was Cas. Relief washed through Dean hotly, made him feel electrified with an incredible rush. Cas was okay, he was fine, he wasn't hurt. He ran quicker and quicker, was too unsettled to call his name. Cas must have heard his swift footfalls, for he turned around when Dean was still a few meters away; he regarded Dean with a calm, contemplative face, didn't seem surprised to see him here in the slightest. Dean stopped in front of him, panting labouredly while resting his hands on his knees; he looked up into Cas' face and shrugged helplessly with a lopsided grin, incredibly delighted to see the subtlest of smiles gracing Cas' sensual mouth.

"There you are," Dean gasped, straightening himself. Cas gave him a half-amused, half-annoyed long look, as if Dean had lost his marbles completely.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, and he sounded somewhat bothered by Dean's presence. His rejection pinched sharply in Dean's heart, he understood Castiel had wanted solitude after their fight. Gingerly, as if he was afraid he might upset Cas further, Dean placed a placid hand on Cas' shoulder, gave it a light squeeze. He looked deeply into Cas' gorgeous blue eyes, couldn't resist bringing up his other hand and stroke along Cas' stubbly cheek lovingly.

"I'm sorry, Cas. I should have believed you, no matter what."

At that, Cas melted, and his strict mien crumbled. He looked utterly devastated, a twitchy smile came to his mouth as hot tears started welling in his eyes.

"You of all people, baby…," Cas croaked, his voice failing him as the pain corded up his throat. Dean commiserated with him, frowned, as he beheld his partner and the damage he had caused. Deeply moved, he grabbed both of Cas' shoulders, held his gaze.

"I promise you, Cas, we'll deal with it. You're not alone in this. And if Aaron ever bothers you again, so God help me."

Now Cas scoffed amused, wiped a tear out of his eye with nervously trembling fingers.

"You're kind of sexy when you utter threats of violence," he said with a grin. Dean smiled at him, thought he couldn't love him more than at this moment. It felt as if he could finally breathe again, be at peace, as he slung his arms around Cas and pulled him in for a tight hug. He rested his chin trustfully on Cas' shoulder, breathed in the soapy scent of his air, and felt his heart at home. Cas' fingers dug into his back almost painfully, he held Dean so ardently. Tenderly, Dean let his fingers card through Castiel's hair again and again, rocked him slowly in their intimate embrace.

…

Hand in hand they strolled back to their house, their eyes fleeing to one another as they exchanged heartfelt smiles. And even though a catastrophe was hanging in the air, imminent and inescapable, Dean was happy that they were together in this, that they weren't fighting anymore. He and Cas basically never fought, and when it happened, he hated every second of it. When they were inside, Cas directly went to their bedroom and made himself ready for the night. Dean followed him, thought he had a point.

Now that they were back at home, Cas seemed completely exhausted, all of his strength was spent. It were the little things that gave him away: How his posture seemed bent as if he was carrying the weight of the world, the dazed look in his eyes, how taciturn he always became when he was sleepy… They followed their evening routine, brushed their teeth, and changed into T-shirts and boxer shorts for the night. Soon they lay in bed side by side comfortably, the electric white light from the streetlamp shining in. Suddenly, Dean was wide awake, his protective instinct for Cas took over him. He didn't feel like sleeping until Cas was asleep, wanted to make sure his partner was okay. He turned his head to him, only to realize Cas was watching him silently for his part, the faint light from outside shone mysteriously in his eyes. His ghostly smile touched Dean's heart, made him move closer towards Cas. Dean outstretched his left arm, and Cas understood his invitation wordlessly, scooted over. In next to no time, he lay in Dean's arm, his head pillowed on Dean's chest, right above his thrumming, content heart. With his other hand, Dean stroked through Cas' hair repeatedly, toyed with the smooth strands he couldn't stop touching. He left one kiss after the other on Cas' temple, held him closer, pressed to his side. Like this, the minutes passed, and soon, Castiel's breathing became deeper, slower, until he had finally fallen asleep, in the safety of Dean's arms.

…

In the middle of the night, Dean woke up with a start. Cas was trashing about in his sleep, writhing in the sheets in an agony unknown to Dean. Concerned he watched his partner battling with his nightmare, was only too familiar with them – during the years, especially when Aaron hadn't been so long out of Cas' life, Dean had often seen Cas experiencing a nightmare, but they had lessened with time and gotten easier to handle. This one tonight seemed bad. At once, Cas suddenly became wide awake, froze in his movements. His eyes found Dean's, a startled, hunted expression within them. Cas seemed to have stopped breathing, his look haggard, as the waves of shock ebbed away. Then he sighed, breathed through deeply, brought his hands up to his face to hide it behind them. Dean would have done anything in the world to take the burden away from him, to ease the weight his heart carried from time to time. But he knew he could only do so much to soothe Cas… Carefully, he touched Cas' clothed shoulder, drew insignificant patterns with his thumb slowly – a mute, small gesture that he was here, waiting, should Cas need him.

"Woke you up again, didn't I?" Cas mumbled through his hands. Dean rolled his eyes and gave his shoulder a playful shove.

"Don't be stupid, Cas. It's not a big deal… are you okay?"

There was a contemplative pause, in which Cas seemed to estimate his well-being. He brought down his hands, gave Dean a loving, sweet smile in the night's half-light, though the expression of his eyes was still somewhat rattled.

"Yeah, I'm okay… it's okay."

Dean raised his eyebrows skeptically at him, not sure if he was going to believe his partner. Cas noticed it and smirked, gave him a long, meaningful look.

"I'm okay. Really."

He turned around to Dean so that he lay on his side, and Dean did the same, following his example. Dean tugged his forearm under his cheek, regarded his partner with interest. He was wide awake, felt as if he couldn't fall asleep anytime soon, and from the way Cas' eyes flickered restlessly, scanned his features attentively, he realized Cas was probably not tired as well. Without really thinking about it, Dean reached out his free hand, let it come to rest on Cas' shoulder. It was meant as a comforting gesture, maybe, maybe just an innocent caress. But once he sensed the heat through Cas' shirt, a deep-reaching hunger awoke within him and took over. He gently stroked Cas' shoulder and upper arm repeatedly, his eyes resting on Cas' all the while, studying his reactions. There was a knowing look in his eyes, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Dean's hand traveled down, over Castiel's clothed pec, his stomach, gripped his hip with a sudden spike of determination. It made Cas suck in a shaky breath, his eyes closed for a nano-second. The smile faded from his mouth as Dean scooted over, brought their torsos and faces unbearably close. Sensuality beautified Cas' face as their eyes locked, their hot exhales colliding. Dean's head was swimming by now, his heart droning in his chest as he deeply looked into the eyes of the man he loved. His trembling, nervous breaths enticed Dean, made him come closer automatically. His fingers delved hard into the pliant flesh of Cas' hip as he tilted his head and brought their lips together in a contemplative, motionless kiss. There was the slightest idea of pressure he yielded, how he moved his lips against Cas', feeling him become lax as he returned the kiss. His seductive, smooth lips created pins and needles in Dean's stomach, made his heart flutter excitedly. They kissed slowly, open-mouthed, while their hands developed a life of their own: Filled up with aching desire, Dean let his hand move under Cas' soft shirt, sensed the scorching hot velvety skin of his body; Cas' hand was in his hair, crawled to the back of his head and pulled him closer. Then Cas brought up his leg and placed it over Dean's hip, their pelvises suddenly intimately squeezed together, their bellies touching.

Dean stopped kissing him, breathless, confused with a burning passion, and regarded Cas beside him. His partner's lids were drooping with lust, a wild, untamed notion gleamed brightly in his eyes. The silvery-white moonlight shone inside their bedroom, made Cas look like an unearthly gorgeous creature. The devotion for him overwhelmed Dean, made him feel all brittle and humble with the joy and love he was feeling for Cas. There were times when they had sex when they made jokes or bickered and laughed, high on their rapture and physical cravings – and there were times like tonight when Dean couldn't express the words he harbored in his heart, when it seemed as if there was more meaning to everything – more than Dean would ever understand.

With a certainty that came with years of experience, Dean suavely pushed Cas down into the mattress, slipped into the space between his spread legs. He sat down on his legs, watched with sweet delight how Cas' chest was heaving, he was already so aroused. Dean's hands stroked up his shirt to reveal Cas' taut stomach; he exposed his well-defined pecs, his showing ribs, his sharp hipbones, his lightly tanned skin… his mouth was watering at the sight, made him grow hard. Cas sat up a little and quickly pulled the shirt over his head, threw it away. He gave Dean a pleading look, motioned with one hand for him to do the same. Gladly he followed the demand, took off his shirt as well, then he confidently stripped off his boxer shorts, felt the cool night air against his naked body – in the next second, he took a hold of the elastic waist of Cas' boxer shorts, took them off slowly, completely undressed him, his eyes feasting on him. Dean bit on his bottom lip, torn in two with the lust rising inside of him, as his eyes fell on Cas' erection, already big and hard for him.

He leaned down, braced himself on his hands, and hovered right above Castiel, their faces only inches apart. A gentle smile now appeared on Cas' kiss-wet lips; with both hands, he framed Dean's face, tugged at him so that they could kiss again and again. He let his tongue glide into Dean's mouth, kissed him greedily as their tongues slid together lewdly. A soft moan escaped Cas, created goosebumps everywhere on Dean's skin. He broke free from his kisses, his mouth finding the sensitive spot in the crook of Cas' neck – he sucked at the delicate skin, bit into it playfully, licked his way down to Cas' protruding collarbone. Cas' hands ghosted over his bare shoulders, touched the back of his head, got lost in his short hair. There was a fondness lingering in his caresses, which moved Dean deeply – he read the signals Cas gave him, that he seemed as bereft of speech as Dean was tonight, overcome with the intensity of being together with the other man.

Almost leisurely, Dean took his sweet time to wreck Cas. His hands stroked his lean sides, his thumb drew small circles into the skin over his sharp hipbones. With his mouth, he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses on his whole torso. He moved down, kissed Cas' abdomen, sensed the warm erection pressing against his chest. Cas winced with arousal when Dean's fingers lightly touched the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, stroking up. At last, Dean wrapped Cas' impressive dick in one hand, gave it a mild squeeze to test the water; it made Cas moan again, this time he sounded unrestrained, too far gone to hold on to his inhibitions. Dean tilted his head, enclosed the velvety tip of his dick with his mouth, his tongue licking the salty bead of pre-cum away. Cas groaned, sounded wonderfully tortured. Dean could feel him become taut, how he constricted all his muscles.

He raised his eyes to Cas, struck with delight at the erotic sight given: Cas regarded him with fiery eyes, a feverish look resting in them – a frown of wonderful torture was on his forehead, he bit on his bottom lip, barely stifling the moans escaping him. Then Dean let his mouth gobble him greedily, he took Cas' dick inside his mouth deeper and deeper, until he could feel the head touching the back of his throat. Cas' lids closed at that, he sobbed with pleasure, as Dean started blowing him in earnest. Dean had done this a million times before, but he was always awed how big Cas was, and he had to remind himself often to breathe through his nose – his mouth was completely filled, Cas' girth forcing Dean to open his mouth wide. But having Cas lolling in the sheets, his fingernails desperately grabbing Dean's head, it was definitely worth it. Dean loved it when Cas took over, when he used the subtlest force to steer Dean's head with his hands however he wanted, to make him go slower or faster, as Dean deep-throated him, letting Cas fuck his mouth.

His hands couldn't stop touching Cas, stroked his thighs, his stomach, his chest fondly, while he sucked him in earnest. He felt Cas' abdomen convulse, heard his moans becoming more breathless, shaky. A ravenous appetite grew wildly in Dean's heart, made him greedy for more. He let go of Cas, straightened himself so that he could quickly fetch the bottle of lube from the nightstand. The bottle cap clicked quietly when he opened it, sitting between Cas' spread thighs. He poured some of the liquid generously into his hand, his eyes feasting on the aroused spectacle in front of him: Castiel's chest was glistening in the moonlight with a slight layer of sweat; his breaths were coming in staccato, he hummed darkly, bit on his bottom lip as he watched Dean's actions. His hair was ruffled, spread over the white pillow, gave him a rakish look. Dean smiled wistfully at him, feeling himself harden even more when he took in the hauntingly beautiful man presented to him. He swallowed against the lump in his throat, ignored his heart racing with lightning speed, as he moved down again. Experimentally, he licked the length of Cas' erection, felt him twitch against his tongue, heard him moan in pleasure as Dean's lips glided along his dick. Dean's lubed fingers found their way to his entrance, he shoved two inside to the hilt resolutely, making Castiel tremble and lustfully cry out. Once more, Dean engulfed him with his mouth, sucked him slowly, while his fingers fucked in and out of him, never tiring of the glorious heat inside of him. At the thought of feeling said heat around his dick, Dean moaned, had to touch himself to prevent himself from coming. He didn't know how many minutes had passed, but by the time he had three fingers shoved into Cas, he was all out of breath, panting, his carnal desire nearly overpowering him.

Cas' hand suddenly moved his hand from the back of Dean's head to his shoulder, squeezed it with a gentle touch. It made Dean stop his caresses, made him look up quickly. Castiel bestowed him with a tender smile, looked completely disheveled – a lust-drunk expression dwelt in his eyes, he panted labouredly. His erection was pointing upwards, he was so hard and big.

"Please, baby, I wanna feel you," Cas rasped, making Dean understand how far gone he was, that he couldn't take much more if Dean continued with his seduction. He nodded, inhaled a trembling breath. It was always an exhilarating feeling, nerve-wracking, the few minutes filled with pleasant anticipation until their bodies melted together. Dean crawled up to Cas', lay down beside him and let him kiss him stupid, let Cas turn him on his back while they kissed open-mouthed, their tongues sliding together lewdly. He swallowed nervously when Cas sat down in his lap. He regarded him in the moonlight, thought how admirable he looked, how sexy with Dean's hard-on pressed between his thighs. Determinately, Cas reached for the bottle of lube, spread it over Dean's erection with a tight fist, long strokes. It made Dean cant his hips, move towards this knowing hand. His own tortured moans resounded in his ears, he became lax and taut with lust, winced when he felt the lube warm up. The friction of Cas' hand was perfect, turned his insides to jelly, made his blood burn with aching need. Mesmerized, he watched Castiel sit up a little, sensuality veiling his features. He looked like an angel to Dean, as his jaw dropped, his mouth slightly agape, as he took Dean inside slowly. A frown of bittersweet pain marred the sensuality as he took Dean deeper and deeper inside, feeling him filling him up. Dean's abdomen was convulsing, moving on its own, as he couldn't stop pressing into Cas, addicted to his incredibly tight heat. However, he managed to grasp Castiel's hips with a firm grip, made him stop.

"Slowly, baby," he breathed heavily, "I don't wanna hurt you."

Cas beheld him with drooping lids, a lopsided subtle smile on his mouth. Then he threw his head back, his hands stroking along Dean's abdomen restlessly.

"God, you feel so good," he moaned and moved his ass lower again, taking more of Dean inside. "I'm always impatient, I forget how big you are."

Dean smiled at that, but the smile slipped from his mouth as he was overcome when Cas took him completely inside. For a moment, they stilled, trying to catch their breaths. Their eyes met. Dean felt himself pulsating inside of Cas, watched Cas face relax, as nothing but lust flowed through them. Cas reached out his hand, and it found Dean's, their fingers intertwining intimately, an unspoken confession of their love for the other. Then Cas started moving again, rocked his hips, let Dean glide in and out of him sensually. It was like a fever dream to Dean. Heat throbbed through his veins, made him light-headed. He felt as if he was chasing his breaths, as if his heart was about to explode. Castiel was warm and lithe and oh so tight, squeezed him, made him crave for more and more and more… His blood was droning in his ears. With the hand Castiel wasn't holding, Dean slowly stroked along Castiel's pecs, his stomach, down towards his dick. He wrapped his hand around it, starting stroking Castiel lightly, just enough to bring him closer to the edge. Cas eyes swiftly darted to his, a hunted, overpowered look lingering in his dilated pupils. Dean knew that look, had seen it countless times before. Cas was close. His hips moved slower now but with more force, took their time to let Dean glide in and out torturously slow, making both of them moan.

It hit Dean like an electric shock as he came hard, incredible heat washing through him – he sensed Castiel cramping, holding perfectly still, as they came together. He squeezed Dean's hand vehemently, threw his head back, as he spilled his cum over Dean's abdomen. They were riding on their highs, blissed-out smiles on their faces, as the afterglows of their orgasms slowly faded away. Cas flopped down on Dean's chest unceremoniously, completely out of breath, none of them caring about all the fluids mingling. Dean was still buried inside of him, enjoyed the heat of Cas, the intimacy of the moment. He left a kiss against Cas' temple, stroked along his back, sensed his sweat cooling off. He exhaled against the all-consuming vulnerability in his chest, realizing how much he loved Cas, how it shook him to the deepest core of his being. And finally, he found the only words with meaning for nights like these, when everything became nearly too much to handle, it was so good.

"I love you, Cas."

He felt the smile of his partner against his throat, it made him blissfully happy.

"Love you, too."

…

A few days later, Cas was in the garden, doing some climb-ups on the iron bar they had installed there a while ago. He was shirtless, displaying his sweaty, muscled torso and his strong upper arms. Dean's mouth was watering at the given sight. He watched a drop of sweat running along Castiel's temple, and he swallowed thickly. Damn. For a second, he almost forgot what he had come outside for. Castiel was really distracting… and the strained moans and grunts escaping his mouth every now and then were just pure sin. Cas finally noticed Dean and gave him a quick side glance while continuing his climb-ups.

"Hey, what's up?"

Dean broke free from his paralysis at last.

"We gotta prepare the house, baby. They uttered a tornado warning for tomorrow."

Castiel let go of the iron bar and flopped down to the ground. He regarded Dean with an unhappy frown, grimacing at the prospect of a tornado possibly coming their way.

"Ah, shit."

They got to work right away. From the tool shed, they got out all kinds of equipment, but mostly wooden walls to cover all windows with. They were one of the things they had bought in plenty when they had decided for this house in South Dakota. Though most of the tornadoes here were rather harmless, in an average year, there could still be up to forty tornadoes - and some of them could really get nasty. Better safe than sorry.

They started with the kitchen window. Dean stood on a ladder, while Castiel held the wooden wall steady, and Dean hammered countless nails into the frame on top of the wooden wall. They made double sure to keep it in place with heavy sandbags leaned against it. Like this they continued with all windows - though Castiel had to take Dean's place on the ladder when it came to the upper tier: Dean was afraid of heights. He could only manage to somehow hold the wooden walls from the inside, while Cas finished the job outside, uncaring about the height.

"You know, I almost forgot how sexy you look with a hammer in your hand," Cas loudly commented from the other side of the darkened window. He hammered here and there. Dean was grinning from ear to ear.

"What do you mean - you almost forgot? Do you have gotten used to me already huh?"

"No, stupid. I just wanted to give you a compliment that you look especially sexy when you're doing handiwork."

Dean nodded to himself with an appreciative smile on his lips.

"Well, and you look all sorts of hot when you're doing climb-ups. Gives a guy some steaming ideas, you know…"

There was a brief silence, then some more hammering. Castiel paused again.

"Stop flirting, Dean. Or I'm coming inside to get you."

Dean laughed, thinking he actually wouldn't mind a distraction right now.

…

Once everything was prepared, it was terribly dark within the house, since all the windows were boarded up. It felt strangely confining to be in the house when you couldn't look outside. Castiel had noticed Dean's unease about it – to soothe him, he lit many candles in their living room, brought out Dean's favorite Western, and fetched two cool bottles of beer. Dean watched him, how he flopped down on their comfortable couch and patted the empty space next to him invitingly. Their eyes met, and Castiel was grinning at him sheepishly – Dean felt his heart flutter, remembered again how much he loved this man.

His discomfort slowly passed when he lay down next to Castiel, when the other wrapped his arm around Dean's shoulder. He snuggled up to his partner, enjoyed the physical intimacy, as they started watching the movie, sipping their beers occasionally. After a while, they realized none of them could really concentrate on the movie, so they started talking blithely, about this and that. To see the candlelight refract beautifully in Castiel's eyes was invigorating to Dean, produced a heartfelt smile on his mouth. Their empty beer bottles were already resting on the coffee table. Dean had an arm slung around Castiel's middle, a leg pressed between Castiel's thighs, basically clinging to him, but he didn't care. It felt so good to be close to Cas, to have his body warmth engulf him like a comforting blanket. Castiel stroked his back and upper arm absentmindedly, tenderly. He pressed a kiss into Dean's hair, held him tighter, momentarily silent. Dean's heart skipped a beat. A burning desire grew within him, made him long for Cas ardently.

Suddenly, Castiel's dark voice resounded. Dean could hear the vibrations of his baritone rumbling through the chest his cheek was currently pillowed on, and he smiled secretly to himself.

"You know, I could die tomorrow, and I wouldn't care, I'm so happy tonight. Let that tornado get me, I don't care."

Dean frowned, wondering about Castiel's strange train of thought.

"Don't say that, Cas. It's not funny," he protested. He didn't like conversations about death or tragedies. In his line of work, he had seen enough of those. Without seeing it, he heard Castiel's soft smile as he exhaled through his nose.

"Who says I'm joking? I mean it, Dean. The past years with you have been the happiest of my life. I'm just so glad to have met you…"

Deeply touched, Dean looked up, sat up a little. With his thumb and forefinger, he touched Castiel's jaw, turned his head, so that their eyes could meet. A profound vulnerability lingered in Castiel's look, but with it came an ungraspable intensity of joy, which choked Dean with emotion. He swallowed against the lump in his throat, his delight so pure and sweet, it was bordering on pain. The next time he spoke, his voice was laced with the love he felt for Cas, raspy and low. He moved closer, their faces almost touching, their hot breaths colliding, trembling treacherously as they revealed how aroused they already were.

"Then how about we won't die and just enjoy each other's company for more years?"

Cas smiled amused, his eyes glistening with a treacherous wetness. His hand found its way into Dean's short hair, carded through it lovingly.

"Yes, I would like that."

"Come here, baby…"

They ended up kissing and making out on the couch, their legs entangled, Dean lying half on top of Cas. Forgotten was the tornado warning, forgotten the movie still playing in the background. All that mattered were Castiel's kisses, his sensual moans, how he touched Dean with an urgency that spoke volumes. Dean's heart skipped a beat when after a good while, Cas tugged at him, made him sit down in his lap. He loved the desire lingering in Castiel's thoughtful touches, as he stroked along Dean's thighs, his chest, how he undid Dean's jeans with confident harsh movements. Dean's mouth had gone dry with awful lust when Castiel undressed him with expertise, a fire burning brightly in his eyes, a beautiful blush on his cheeks. The next time they kissed, Dean blindly opened Cas' jeans, pulled them down somewhat, so that he could feel the heat of his velvety erection pressing against him.

The next minutes passed by like a lucid dream, their naked bodies coming together, touching in the most intimate way. Dean's head was swimming, he heard his own moans of pleasure when he knelt on his hands and knees, letting Cas fuck deeply into him. It seemed insane to him, how they never seemed to get enough of the other, their hunger insatiable. He sensed Cas inside of him, big and hard, spreading him perfectly, pressing against his sweet spot, making him wince and moan breathlessly. They came together, Castiel's fingers delving into Dean's hips almost painfully. Dean flopped down on his stomach, enjoyed the aftershocks of his orgasm making his limbs twitch, the heat licking through his innards electrically. Cas lay on top of him, kissed his neck fondly, his hands stroked along Dean's sides. Woozily, Dean thought of Castiel's words from before, their echo ghosting through his mind – he agreed, he could die tomorrow, and he would die as a happy man.

…

The next day, they left the house together, and for once, Cas let Dean drive him to work. He dropped him off at court and Cas bid him goodbye with a hard, loving kiss through the Impala's rolled-down window.

"See you later, and remember: the hearing is at eleven!" Cas called and walked away, waved at Dean. Dean smiled at him, watched how he swiftly climbed the marble steps towards the court, thinking how madly he loved this man. Cas had been referring to the hearing later, for which Dean would bring and guard the defendant – it was a middle-aged man, who was put before court in a murder trial. Since it was the holiday season, the officers at court were somewhat understaffed, so currently, Dean acted as a holiday replacement. It was kind of boring, steering prisoners from one place to the other and guarding them all the time, but Dean's glimmer of hope was when a hearing took place, in which Castiel was the judge. It meant he could see his partner at work, performing at his best, and it filled his heart with pride. It made his days less long, less dull, made him forget how direly he missed going on patrols with Charlie.

When Dean drove to the police station, he scanned the sky above him in all directions, up until the horizon. It was hard to imagine that a tornado warning had been issued for today – there were some dark rain clouds in the sky, sure, but there were also vast stretches of azure blue, the sun struggled through in between clouds. However, the wind was blowing fiercely, pushed the clouds swiftly along. Thoughtfully, Dean envisioned their house and the precautions they had taken, hoping it would suffice and keep their home intact. Maybe they would be lucky. Maybe the tornado wouldn't even hit them or touch ground.

…

Later this forenoon, Dean entered Castiel's courtroom, which he knew inside out by now – he was accompanied by a colleague, and in their midst, the cuffed defendant walked silently, a brooding mien on his features. It was common that none of them spoke in situations like this, so Dean wasn't thinking anything of it. He was, however, slightly surprised, when they walked into the room, and when he saw how many people had come to attend to the hearing. The press hadn't been allowed to come, but otherwise, the public had access to the hearing. With one hand on the prisoner's shoulder, he gently steered the man to his dock, his eyes quickly wandered to Castiel. Their eyes met, and they exchanged gentle smiles. Dean winked at him, thinking Castiel looked awfully dapper today, his dark hair perfectly combed, the black judge's robe bringing out the bright blue of his eyes. The trial started. All the while, Dean had to stand next to the prisoner, keeping tabs on him.

Suddenly, the side door to his left opened, the one close to the podium, where Castiel sat. Dean saw a black shadow rushing into the courtroom. It all happened so fast. He reached for his gun, heard the shrieks in the audience. Dean couldn't believe his own eyes. There frigging Aaron was, storming inside, a gun ready to fire in his hands. Castiel had spotted him too, got up, blatant shock and disbelief in his look. Aaron marched straight up to Cas, the gun pointed at him, a wordless threat. Dean shook his head unknowingly – he was having none of it. His colleague shouted at the visitors to exit the court immediately, but Dean barely heard him, felt as if he was turned into a pillar of salt. With grim determination, he aimed for Aaron, about to shoot and ask questions later.

"Hands up, you son of a bitch!" he yelled. But Aaron only sneered at him, grasped Cas roughly by the collar, then held the gun to his temple while they stood side by side. Cas' and Dean's eyes met, both of them terrified. Dean couldn't believe the level of malice dwelling in Aaron's eyes, how he seemed to get off on holding Cas at gunpoint.

"One false move and he's dead," Aaron quietly said, his voice oozing with hatred. Dean could see how he pressed the gun harder against Cas' temple, making his partner wince nervously. Damn it! He hated how Aaron slung his free arm around Castiel's waist, pulled him closer against his side, then shook him faux-friendly.

"You're coming with me, sweetheart," he said to Cas, while his eyes never let Dean out of his sight. A sickening sensation grew in Dean's stomach, made him nauseous with plain fear. What did Aaron want with Cas? Where did he want to take him? Was he going to kill him? Overwhelmed with worry, Dean took a step forward, arousing Aaron's attention. With sudden violence, he grabbed Castiel's perfectly combed hair and yanked it back, making Cas gasp in pain, as Aaron held the gun right under his chin. Aaron's bright blue eyes were gleaming coldly at Dean.

"One false move…," he said. Dean froze, paralyzed. He heard his loud, hectic heartbeat throb in his ears, his knees were about to buckle. What was he supposed to do?

"It's okay, Dean, it's okay. Let me go," Cas wheezed, moved his head a little so that he could look at his partner. Dean didn't get the chance to argue or to intervene – Aaron already inched towards the side entrance, one arm wrapped around Cas' middle, the other holding the gun against his head. He was walking backward, keeping Dean in his sight. Dean felt utterly helpless, out of his depth, as he watched the man he loved being taken away from him. This was like Lisa all over again. He couldn't lose another partner! His heart was crying out for Cas, but there wasn't much he could do. If he tried to shot Aaron now, he might actually be able to pull the trigger and hurt Cas – Dean couldn't risk that.

All at once, a heroic man came out of nowhere, lunged at Aaron and Cas with a big jump, about to tackle Aaron's legs and bring him down. Aaron's reaction capacity was stunning: Before the man could reach him, Aaron had shot his upper thigh – with an anguished cry, the man collapsed on the ground, held his wounded leg. Dark blood flowed out of his bullet wound, wetted the floor, tinged it crimson red. In shock, Dean stared at the blood, his heart was about to explode. If Aaron was this reckless, this insouciant in regards to hurting somebody… what chances of survival did that leave for Cas?

Utterly frustrated, Dean had to stand by idly and witness how Aaron was getting away with Cas. One last time, his and Cas' looks met, the faintest idea of a sad smile on Cas' lips – it seemed so final, so desperately hapless, as if he knew he wasn't going to see Dean again. It brought tears of panic to Dean's eyes, nearly made him give up hope, too. But then, a moment later, his fighting spirit returned, hardened his will. He wasn't going to lose another partner. Not like this. Never again. He breathed through several times, counted to ten, while Aaron and Cas were probably exiting the building. From outside, he heard screams and loud murmurs, people running hectically to and fro as if they were fleeing from the situation, and he knew they had come across Aaron. Then Dean dashed forward, intent on getting his man back safe and sound. He ran past confused and scared people, his shoes sliding over the marbled floors.

Dean ran out of the building just in time to see a rusty, gray transporter drive away with bone-breaking speed. Aaron drove off with screeching, fuming wheels. Dean couldn't see inside the van, but he knew with inexplicable certainty it belonged to Aaron, and that Castiel was inside of it. Damn it. His heart was racing, cold sweat appeared on his brow. Dean reached for his mobile radio while jogging over to his police car to pursue the van. The control center answered to his signal quickly.

"Officer Winchester? What's going on?"

Dean opened the car door and sat down behind the wheel. He had to bundle up all his strength not to panic. His thoughts were already somersaulting, trying to process what was happening.

"I need backup. I'm at the Sioux Falls' United States Court House downtown, and there's a hostage situation," he explained breathlessly, ramming his car key into the ignition. "The kidnapper is armed and dangerous, he's just driven off with the hostage in a gray Volkswagen van, heading east on the 229. I'm following them now. Over."

Dean started the engine, turned the car, and sped along the street with blue lights and sirens switched on. He bit on his lower lip highly concentrated while driving around cars blocking his way. He drove with his foot down to the floor, squeezing out all the speed he could, his eyes restlessly searching for the gray van – only in the distance, he could still see it, driving recklessly in dangerous zigzags. There was a lot of honking and angry screaming from drivers on the road. On top of that, the sky had gotten terribly dark. Storm clouds were gathering in the east, thunder was growling threateningly. Trees nearby were swaying dangerously.

"Sending back-up your way now, over."

"Wait! There's also one guy at the court, who has been shot in the thigh. He needs an ambulance right away. Over."

"Got it, Winchester. Listen, you know there's a tornado warning? Where you're headed to, there's a lot of bad weather. We get very bad news coming in every minute from there," his colleague said over the radio, blatant concern in her voice.

"I know, Donna. But he's got Cas, you know? I gotta do whatever I have to get him back…" he said determinately.

The van suddenly pulled into the side road. Dean took a sharp curve with squeaking wheels to follow it. Suddenly, severe rain fell from the sky, turned the world into an impenetrable veil of wet gray. Thick raindrops robbed Dean of his sight, filled up the whole windshield. Dean turned on the windshield wipers to their highest pace. A forceful gust hit the car's side and made it drift away from the street. Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter and counter-steered with all his might, cursing under his breath. For a moment, he couldn't see the traffic anymore. His gut feeling screamed at him that it was nothing but stupid to drive in this weather, especially hunting down another car at this insane speed. But he couldn't abandon Cas just because of his own safety. He had to get to him.

When the rainstorm stopped for a second, he could see the road ahead better again – but the van had disappeared. Dean's throat corded up painfully. Damn it. His heart was racing, his breath stumbling. This couldn't be happening. He looked around in despair, searching for the van hectically. Damn it! He steered the car towards E. Madison St., guessing this was the road Aaron had taken. With nothing but frustration, he turned on his radio device again.

"Donna? I lost him. I'm on E. Madison Street now, heading east towards Brandon, but I have no idea if I'm on the right track any longer. Over."

"Okay, Winchester. Do you want your backup to head in the same direction? Over."

Dean contemplated his options for a second. He knew he was running out of time. There was no time for wrong decisions now. Who knew what Aaron was gonna do to Cas? Then he remembered the creepy dark house Aaron used to live in – maybe that was where he was taking Castiel to. It was worth a shot.

"Yeah, send someone down E. Madison Street and let someone else scour Sioux Fall and all traffic cams for a gray Volkswagen van. I'm heading to the house of the kidnapper now. It's Castiel's crazy ex, I only know his first name, Aaron. Over."

"Alright, I'll let the others know immediately… Jeez, Dean, what have you two stumbled into?"

"Wish I knew, Donna. Let's end this nightmare quickly, please," he said, utter despair pulling at his heartstrings.

…

Hail fell from the sky, rapped against the car's windshield as if it wanted to be invited in. Ominous black and gray rain clouds where everywhere, seemed so weighed down with rain, so close to the ground, that you could actually touch them. It wasn't even afternoon, and it was so dark, it could have been night. The windshield wipers screeched at their highest speed, busily shoved tons of rain away. Aaron's grip on the wheel was tight, his face a mask of grim determination. With one hand, he held the gun pointed at Cas, ready to shoot, should Cas try anything funny. Speechless, Cas studied him, the waves of adrenaline slowly ebbed away. It was strange, but he wasn't afraid anymore. Sure, it had been a shock to see Aaron again, to be kidnapped by him at gunpoint level. But now, when his eyes wandered over the man he had known and loved all those years ago, he didn't feel fear, nor disgust, or regret. He was calm, tranquil, ready for whatever was about to happen. Castiel instinctively knew it had something to do with the love he had given and received within the last years in his relationship with Dean – it had set him free, had given them a wonderful life, had closed so many wounds from the past… It didn't matter if Aaron was going to kill him now, he could never take that love away.

Aaron, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as composed as Castiel – his hands were trembling and twitching, the look of his eyes was haunted. He kept checking the rearview mirror if anyone was still pursuing them. With a melancholic smile, Castiel had watched Dean's police car chasing them and how he had lost them due to the bad weather. Now no one seemed in sight, the roads had become eerily empty, as if he and Aaron were the only people in this world. The impenetrable wall of darkness ahead of them was to blame, certainly – castles and towers of clouds loomed there, about to bring chaos, wreak havoc. Aaron was heading right into that direction, flooring it, the car sliding every now and then on the wet asphalt. It was madness. They heard the loud, creepy tornado sirens everywhere, how they wailed and wailed…

"Why are you doing this?" Castiel asked suddenly, his voice surprisingly gentle. Aaron gave him a quick, sinister look.

"Shut up," he only said, sounding annoyed. Cas frowned. He was not having any of it. He wasn't the same man Aaron had known, wasn't going to leave it at that.

"Aaron, I mean it. What do you get out of this? You know Dean will find you, and he will-"

"I said shut up!" Aaron yelled, startling Cas with his unexpected aggressive outburst. In the next second, something dark approached his face; only too late he realized it was Aaron's fist flung at him – the hard collision with his jaw made his head jerk back, it fell against the car's window. Dazed with throbbing pain, Cas remained where he was, his vision failing him. With confusion, he read the satisfied smirk on Aaron's mouth, sensed an immense wave of hatred surging through him. But his senses became numb, his head was swimming – he passed out without knowing it.

…

Castiel slowly came to when someone dragged him out of the car. It hurt to think, he couldn't really sort through his thoughts or what was happening. Aaron had slung an arm around his side, had placed one of Cas' arms around his shoulder, and he was hauling him over the muddy, mossy forest floor. The air was humid with rainfall, though now, it only drizzled. A terrible bluster of wind was all around them, ruffled through their hair, whistled alarmingly. Feebly, Castiel uplifted his head, watched the innumerous pine trees swaying dangerously in the storm. Boughs fell to the ground with loud thuds, branches broke with loud cracks. A familiar sight appeared in front of Cas, finally – the old cabin Aaron owned. When they had been a couple and experienced happier times of their relationship, they had spent some nice weekends here… the place was attached to good times, but now, as Castiel contemplated it in the storm all around them, he didn't know what to feel. Aaron pulled him inside, let Castiel fall down on the outworn couch carelessly.

He sat down in the armchair opposite to Cas, the look on his face smug, weirdly satisfied. Still he held a gun pointed at Castiel, but Cas didn't even care about it any longer. Briefly, his thoughts fled to Dean, wondered how he was doing, whether he was somewhere safe when the tornado touched down.

"You asked me why I'm doing this…," Aaron said with a faux-friendly smile. Castiel stared into his bright blue eyes, detected the iciness of his soul there, the absence of sympathy. He wondered why he had ever fallen in love with him, what he had seen in him. That thing in front of him wasn't a man, it was a monster.

"I watched you for many years, Castiel, you and Dean, though you didn't even know it. Saw you buy that house, settle in, how everything seemed in apple-pie order. And you forgot about me, as if I had never existed. Truth is, I never let you go, you just weren't aware."

Castiel frowned, shocked about Aaron's confession. All that time he had lurked around, spied on him? He found it hard to breathe, anxiety making his chest constricted. What did he know about them? About their lives? What kind of leverage did he have over them?

"You're wrong," he insisted, "you never had to let me go, because I was never yours. I don't belong to you, Aaron."

Aaron smiled at him, gave him a long, evaluating look.

"You've changed. In the past, you would have never been this defiant. However," he sighed, "I told myself to wait. I wanted you to be happy, to think yourself safe, and when you least expected it, I wanted to take all that happiness away from you, make you mine again."

Castiel scoffed at this stupid monologue. Aaron had completely gone insane.

"I will never be with you again, Aaron."

His fear returned at once, when Aaron got up slowly, threateningly, walked towards Castiel sitting there on the couch. A gruesome danger glistened in those heartless eyes, silenced Cas in awe. Flashbacks crossed his mind, made him shudder with pain and terror. He remembered his bruised face, the many nights Aaron had beaten him up, how he had cried to himself at night, trails of blood and tears mixing. How utterly helpless and shattered he had felt, as if there was no one in the world who could save him.

With shock-widened eyes, he watched as Aaron sat down in his lap, a winning, evil smile painted to his lips. At the next moment, his hands gripped Castiel's throat in a vise-like, squeezing harshly. Castiel tried to breathe, tried to gulp, but he couldn't move, was paralyzed with fear. He couldn't breathe! Aaron loosened his grip for a moment, heard with zest how Castiel wheezed, how he greedily sucked in a shaky breath, then Aaron strangled him again, scooted closer. Cas' hands touched Aaron's shoulders, a wordless plea to stop hurting him. Suddenly, Aaron's face was only inches away, their eyes locked. Aaron's hands remained around Cas' throat, but he slackened his grip once more so that Cas could breathe. And then he pressed his lips against Castiel's, kissed him crudely, uncaring whether Castiel liked it or not. Cas sensed his slight stubble brushing against his jaw, his thin, cool lips ravaging his mouth, kissing him hard and passionately. He whimpered desperately, didn't want any of this. He felt Aaron's hot hard-on pushing against his abdomen, jerking impatiently.

For a second, Aaron released his mouth, stared into Cas' eyes with lust-dilated pupils. He was panting, the smile had slipped from his mouth. He took Cas' hand in his, placed it on his throbbing, clothed erection, made Castiel engulf it in a light grip. Moaning, Aaron canted his hips so that he was closer to Cas. Shocked, Cas swallowed nervously, felt awfully trapped.

"Stop, I don't want this," he whispered, his heart racing with panic.

Aaron contemplated him with a piercing look, laid a hand in Castiel's lap, and stroked his dick through his trousers slowly. By now, Cas was trembling like a leaf, about to lose hope. He was retreating to his old self, the version of himself from many years ago – the one, that didn't fight back, that let Aaron beat him to a pulp, that let him touch him whenever, uncaring about Castiel's needs. The vision of Dean then came to his mind's eye, made his heart bleed with longing and love for him. He clearly saw the vivid green of Dean's gorgeous eyes, his kissable rosy mouth shaped into a soft smile, heard the echo of his carefree laughter, felt the phantom touches of his sweet kisses… The urge to see him again became insufferable, tore Cas apart.

With a strength unknown to him, he pushed with his hands hard against Aaron's chest, caused the other man to get up clumsily, his balance lost. Like lightning, Castiel stood up, his hands formed to fists, ready to defend himself. He wanted to see Dean again. It wasn't going to end like that. Aaron sneered at him, raised his fists, a challenging grin rested on his face – one that Castiel longed to beat away. What made him pause, though, was the thing on the wall behind Aaron, it aroused his interest: A fire extinguisher. A suicidal plan formed in his jumbled brain. He ran past Aaron, grabbed the fire extinguisher from the wall, felt its heavy weight in his hands. Aaron was behind before he could even count to three. Angrily, he touched Cas' shoulder, forced him to turn around to him. Castiel used the momentum of the movement, used the strength of his arms and hips, and rammed the fire extinguisher against Aaron's head mercilessly.

Aaron's eyes rolled into the back of his head, he flopped down to the ground unceremoniously, all his limbs turned to jelly – there he lay, a heap of unconscious flesh and bone. Relief flooded Cas as he studied his attacker knocked out; Cas was panting, felt as if he hadn't breathed properly in ages. Still somewhat shaky, he reached for his phone, so that he could call the police and an ambulance for Aaron. But then his plan was thwarted – an ear-bleeding, loud creaking resounded, the cabin vibrated violently. Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel realized something was falling through the roof, taking down half of it. It crashed against him – a sharp pain shot through his ribs, his right hand. Before he knew what was going on, he fell to the ground, next to Aaron. Everything went dark, and he lost any sense of space and time.

…

When Castiel came to, the cabin was no more: The roof was gone, so were all walls – only the foundations of the cabin remained, broken timbers showing with sharp edges. Red shingles from the roof lay around everywhere, there was debris, everything lay in shambles. Bewildered, Cas looked around as far as he could. There was something heavy on him, which made it impossible to move or get up. Then he became aware of the excruciating pain shooting through his body, pulsating hotly. His right hand was definitely damaged, his left ribcage hurt, and he had trouble breathing. He finally got a good look at the thing weighing down on him – it seemed to be a big, fallen maple tree, and he lay right under its crown. It must have been the cause for the cabin to tumble down. How long had he been out?

He could see the dark sky right above him, leaves and rubble flying through the air spookily. Even here, within the remains of the cabin, he sensed the strong wind toying with his clothes, with everything lying around scattered. The pine trees outside were cracking, the creepy crying and howling of the wind was in the air. A cold shiver ran down Castiel's spine as he watched the storm clouds fly by. It seemed the tornado hadn't passed through yet. But it was dangerously close. He could hear it munching on trees and other cabins in the vicinity, a quiet but deadly crunching sound as it destroyed and swallowed everything in its pass. His eyes fell on Aaron, who lay right next to him on his back, his lids closed, still unconscious. A bloody bruise was showing on his forehead, where Castiel had hit him with the fire extinguisher. The fallen tree had also gotten him, a huge branch was bearing down on his torso. Castiel wasn't sure if he was still breathing, it was hard to tell.

A sudden idea sprang to his mind, set him into motion. With his left hand, he awkwardly reached for his cell phone, which had fallen next to him. It took him a good while until he unlocked it and called Dean's number – he was a right-hander after all. His frayed nerves calmed down noticeably when he heard Dean pick up, when he heard his voice.

"Cas? Is that you?"

…

In next to no time, Dean had reached Aaron's gloomy, dark house. He parked the car in front of it and rushed outside, his gun drawn. On high alert, he checked the area, peeked into the house. It seemed as if no one was there. Dean was losing hope. With every second passing, he felt his chances of finding Cas in time dwindle away. He kicked open the front door, not giving a damn about stealth or back-up anymore. Out of breath, he ran through the whole house, searched every room. Finally, he stopped, took a deep, trembling breath. He was about to lose it. Damn it! Castiel wasn't here. He had followed the wrong track!

Deeply annoyed, too fraught with stress to think clearly, he ran outside again, about to jump into his car, and drive towards Brandon again. He momentarily paused as he contemplated the dark sky around him, saw the lack of daylight. It was as dark as if nightfall had come, as if the sun might never shine again.

He gave a wince when his cell phone suddenly rang. With nervous fingers he hectically produced it. Ecstasy bubbled hotly in his veins, made his heart skip a beat when he saw the caller's name: It was Cas! He picked up the phone, couldn't believe it.

"Cas? Is that you?" Dean asked.

"Yes, it's me," Cas answered. Dean closed his eyes, sighed, as a warm wave of relief surged through him.

"Thank God. Cas, where are you? What's going on? Where's Aaron, that son of a bitch," he sputtered, half in rage, half in fear. There was a brief pause, in which Dean listened to the roaring of his blood in his ears. He clutched the cell phone tighter, afraid the connection might break, that he would lose Castiel again.

"Aaron is… he's unconscious. I knocked him over with a fire extinguisher. But I have no idea when he will wake up again. I don't know how much time I've got left."

"Okay, baby listen: if he's unconscious right now – can you escape? Is there a door close by?"

"I can't… I can't move, Dean. I'm hurt. I'm in pain," Castiel wheezed strained. Dean listened closely, terrorized by the obvious pain in Castiel's voice. He was hurting! His heart somersaulted, he felt nauseated with concern for Cas.

"What do you mean, you can't move?" he asked. He tightened the grip on his phone, his knuckles protruding. Worry for Cas mingled with the urge for revenge, and he gritted his teeth. He would make Aaron pay for every scratch, every damage he had afflicted on Cas.

"Doesn't matter, I'll live," Cas panted. "Listen, Dean, I don't have much time. Aaron might come around any second now. I'm in the Big Sioux State Recreation Area, it's a natural reserve right next to the Big Sioux River. Aaron has a cabin there, where he stays sometimes…"

"Wait, wait, wait," he said breathlessly. "Big Sioux State Recreation Area… that's like ten miles east from Sioux Falls, right?"

Damn it – so he had been on the right track before. He should have continued driving on E. Madison Street after all. He could have kicked himself for his bad luck.

"Yes," Castiel groaned, sounding stifled as he was fighting against another wave of pain. "I'm in cabin twenty-four, or, well, the remains of it. I'm not sure how much longer I can fend Aaron off. And I think the tornado is heading right our way. I can hear the pines breaking apart outside already. You can't come here, though, Dean. It's too dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt, too. Wait at least until the tornado has passed."

"Cut the crap, Cas. I'm on my way," Dean said stubbornly, cutting Cas off. He was about to hang up when he suddenly heard Castiel's voice again.

"Damn it, Dean. You are so stubborn! Why can't you listen to me for once?"

Dean smiled, despite the panic and chaos toying with his mind.

"You know I don't care what happens to me, Cas, as long as I get you back. I'm coming to get you right now."

There was a brief moment of silence, and Dean wondered if Castiel had hung up or if Aaron had woken up again.

"Whatever happens, Dean… I love you," Castiel said quietly now, tenderness and sincerity in each of his words. Dean winced with bittersweet pain, wanting nothing more than to hold Cas in his arms right now and kiss him silly. He smiled tentatively.

"I love you, too, Cas," he whispered. Then the line went dead.

…

Dean sped through Sioux Falls, headed down the interstate as fast as his police car allowed it. Via radio, he had maneuvered his back-up in the same direction. When Donna informed him that the tornado had touched ground only a few miles away from Castiel's location, Dean's heart convulsed with deadly terror. He pictured the worst-case scenarios without wanting to. What if he didn't make it in time? What if… He shook his head, willing these glum thoughts away. He would save Cas, despite Aaron, despite the tornado, despite whatever. Embittered, he gripped the wheel tighter, floored it, so that the engine was blasting away.

It didn't take long, and he could actually see the ghostlike shape of the tornado at the horizon: A tunnel of clouds, debris, and air dancing its lethal dance. It was huge, moved with grace, uncaring about the things it destroyed. Hail was falling, gusts of strong wind pushed Dean's car left or right, again and again, made it hard to steer the vehicle. Everyone was fleeing from the tornado, the road back to Sioux Falls was crammed – but where Dean drove, the street was free. Cars were honking, giving signs to him with their brights, but Dean didn't care, didn't pay heed to it. He saw a line of trees devoured by the tornado easily, power poles collapsing. A road sign read "Big Sioux State Recreation Area", despite the pouring down rain, Dean saw it in time. He saw the tornado wandering right through the area where he assumed Castiel was. His heart sank to his boots. What if this was the end of the line? What if he never saw Castiel again?

Despaired, he turned off from the main road and followed the signs pointing to the cabins. He had to stop the car when the tornado was close by – he couldn't see anything as debris, dust, and dirt flew all around him. The car was shaking from left to right as if giants were toying with it. When it was over, Dean started the car again, drove over mounds of wreckage the tornado had left in its wake. Finally, he reached the area, where the cabins were supposed to be. He killed the engine, sat there, stunned at the given sight: No cabin was intact anymore, their rooves and walls damaged, collapsed... There were fallen trees everywhere. He took a deep breath, persuading himself that it was going to be alright. He would find Cas. It was alright, it was alright, it was – an elder woman suddenly appeared, walked towards him with a limp. Her white hair and ashen face were covered in bright red blood. He jumped out of the car, rushed towards her to help. The woman was sobbing with pain, seemed traumatized. She touched his upper arm, crying, too upset to talk. With gentle moves, Dean directed her towards his car, made her sit down in the passenger seat. In his trunk, he found a warming rescue blanket, put it around her shaking frame cautiously.

From somewhere nearby, he heard anguished screams for help. He exhaled all the nervousness, pushed his fears and worries aside – he was needed now, he had to function now.

In an instant, he had made an emergency call, asking for several ambulances. In the distance, he already could hear the sirens from his colleagues approaching. Dean set himself to work. Like a maniac, he hurried from one collapsed cabin to the other, searched for survivors; with his bare hands, he removed debris, never-minding his fingers were bleeding and numb with exhaustion already. Within thirty minutes, he had rescued an elder man, a woman and her boy, two frat boys. All of them were waiting for the ambulances around Dean's police car, looking completely shell-shocked, while Dean kept searching endlessly. Where was Cas?

He barely noticed the police cars and ambulances arriving at the scene. He had to find Cas. It was all he could think of, the only reason his tired limbs were still moving. Tears welled in his eyes as despair slowly but surely got to him. He prayed to a God he didn't believe in, promised him all kinds of things if only he gave him Cas back. Ultimately, he started shouting Cas' name, hoping he could hear him. It worked – from one of the cabins, he heard a muffled, weak "Dean? Dean!" in return. His feet were basically tripping over, he ran that quickly towards Castiel's voice, nameless relief overwhelming him. He was alive, he was alive!

He recognized the big maple tree laying oddly in the middle of the former cabin, snaked his way past it. For a second, he stopped dead in his track when he spotted Aaron lying stock-still on the ground, his face pale. Then, his eyes moved to the left, and there he was: Cas. He was awake, but he lay under a big branch, looked the worse for wear. The incredible pain in his eyes made Dean gasp, lunge forward. With all his might, he shoved the branch away, released Castiel. He fell down to his knees, cradled his face in his hands, unaware of the hot tears streaming down his cheeks abundantly. He showered Castiel's mouth with brief kisses, couldn't believe his luck. To feel him close again, his body warmth, his pliant petal lips… Then Cas groaned in pain, let his head fall down to the ground with a quiet thud. He smiled at Dean as their fingers intertwined blindly.

"Told you I'd find you," Dean quipped, then brushed the trails of tears from his cheeks. Cas gave him a melancholic smile, his eyes never leaving Dean's. His thumb brushed over the back of Dean's hand, and it was so gentle and fond, it made Dean almost cry again.

"It's so good to see you again…," Cas croaked, both of them knowing exactly what he meant – they had been so close to losing one another for good. Finally, Castiel harrumphed, his eyes focussing on Aaron. He beckoned Dean to check in on him.

"Is he… is he, you know," Castiel asked tentatively. Even though he hated to let go of Castiel's hand, Dean quickly crawled towards Aaron, put his fingers on his aorta, and searched for his pulse. He frowned as he didn't find one. Moved his fingers elsewhere, made double sure. He gave Cas a long look, heavy with meaning, nodded subtly. Cas winced with pain, tears welling in his eyes, his smile was twitchy, a disturbed expression in his glance.

"I've killed him. My god…"

It was probably the shock from the events of today, combined with the physical pain Castiel was in – but he started crying uncontrolled, sobbed, shaking like a leave. Dean's heart was breaking at the sight. He crouched down next to Cas, tenderly framed his clean-cut face with both hands. With his thumbs, he wiped the tears away, gave Cas a melancholic smile.

"Listen, Cas… you know I don't believe in God the way that you do. But today, I do. He punished Aaron and returned you to my arms. Today, I believe in God."

Castiel smiled at that, deeply touched, and started crying again, though it was mingled with carefree laughter. Dean leaned down to kiss him deeply, sending silent prayers to whoever had spared his Cas.

…

The emergency room was like a battlefield – wherever Dean looked, there were wounded people lying on stretchers, brought to all available trauma rooms. Assistant doctors and nurses were quickly moving from one to the other, clearly understaffed for a calamity like this. Dean didn't leave Castiel's side – his partner lay on a wheeled stretcher, every now and then dozing off into a pain-induced slumber. Sometimes he opened his eyes to small slits and then he looked for Dean, but he always was reassured and even smiled a little once he recognized Dean standing next to him. He held Cas' good undamaged hand and squeezed it gently, felt the pressure returned.

As the nurse had told a worried Dean, Cas was stable, and even though he was in pain, he had to wait until the most severe cases had been dealt with. And judging from the ongoing chaos in the emergency room, this would take some time. There were a handful of people, who had been brought in with multiple foreign objects sticking out of their bodies – scraps of glass or metal, which the tornado had toyed with, and which had found their destination in those poor people. Some of these injured people weren't even conscious when they were brought in – those that were, were a terrible sight to witness, one that left Dean panicked and speechless with horror. They were crying and shaking with pain, bathed in blood, convulsing and screaming unrestrained. Even behind closed doors, Dean heard their wailing – it sounded as if they were sawed up alive. It was nauseating, appalling, made Dean's stomach turn.

His eyes repeatedly fled to Castiel's features, which were contorted with pain; Dean counted the injuries he could see on his partner; and even though it were many and it would take some time for them to heal, Dean couldn't believe how lucky they actually were - that Cas wasn't one of those poor bastards, who were screaming themselves hoarse now. He was still worried madly, about to lose his sanity because of all his concern for Cas – but deep inside of him, Dean knew that Cas would be okay.

The time he had to wait was nothing but torture; accompanied by the screams of agony, this place seemed like hell. For a while, Dean attempted to distract himself and looked around the waiting room area, where relatives, partners, and friends waited for their loved ones. But this sight only made it worse. On these people's faces, Dean detected the same bewilderment he was feeling, the same utter helplessness. They were all exposed to fate and the skills of all these busy men and women working here.

At last, it was Cas' turn for a treatment – they rolled away the stretcher, with Cas really out of it. Dean wasn't allowed to follow, and his hands suddenly felt awfully empty, as if they had taken Cas away from him. Like a nervous wrack, he kept pacing up and down the waiting room, until he realized it annoyed everyone – so he moved his ass outside to the corridor, where he didn't bother anyone. He was jittery, totally shaken. Only slowly, the full extent of this ordeal of a day dawned on him.

His adrenaline levels were finally diminishing. He stopped in his track, leaned against a wall, and closed his eyes, listened to his body. He wished Sammy or Bobby or Benny or Charlie would be here, anyone close to him right now, who could give him a little comfort. On the other hand, he didn't even have one ounce of strength left to make a call. He subtly knocked the back of his head against the wall, willed the moment of weakness away. He was exhausted, utterly spent, hungry and thirsty, and all of his limbs felt as if he had run a marathon. But what was his exhaustion compared to Cas' wounds, compared to the dread Aaron had put him through? Dean gritted his teeth as a wave of blind fury overwhelmed him. Aaron had held a gun to Cas' head, had abducted him… Dean remembered Aaron's lifeless eyes, how his demolished body had lain there between the debris the tornado had left. And even though Dean knew it was immoral, he couldn't help but feel grim satisfaction course through all of his cells – Aaron had gotten what he had deserved. He had sown the wind and reaped the whirlwind, literally.

It seemed like forever until they were done with Cas. They had brought him into medical radiology to have a better look at his ribs, turned out, three of them were broken, fortunately, only his left side was afflicted. He had a severe concussion and a broken right hand. When they rolled him out more than two hours later, he was half awake, but pumped full with pain killers. The look in his eyes was hazy, and there was a dopey smirk on his mouth when Dean jogged to his side.

"Hey, Dean," Cas slurred his speech, "you're still here. Isn't it getting late?"

Then his lids fell shut, and he murmured something inaudible, dozed off again. Cas was right. It was already close to midnight, and by now Dean was on his feet for nearly eighteen hours. He was overwhelmed with heavy fatigue, waves of tiredness crashing against his forehead again and again, but somehow, he managed to stay awake and function. The nurse gave him a meaningful look as they rolled the stretcher along the corridor towards the silvery elevators.

"We're gonna bring him to his room now and keep him here for close monitoring, just a few days to make sure he's really okay," the nurse explained. Apparently, she realized Dean was sick with worry, about to lose his mind if someone didn't give him more information asap, so she had pity on him and even gave him a sweet, heartfelt smile. It soothed his shaken soul; he was deeply grateful for this little gesture of kindness.

They brought Castiel into his room, where he continued sleeping like a baby – like a very drugged, hurt baby, Dean noted. He finally had time and enough energy to pick up his phone. He was stunned when he saw all the missed phone calls and messages he had received, instantly worried about his beloved ones and if they were okay. But when he thumbed through the messages quickly, he realized that they were okay and just worried about him and Cas. Judging from Sam's status, he was still online, so Dean called him, despite the late hour. On the corridor, he spoke quietly into the phone, his voice breathless, his words tripping over, as he explained all that had happened today.

"Dean, you should have called – we were worried sick about you," Sam scolded, which made Dean chuckle humorlessly. With his hand, he rubbed over his burning, tired eyes and sighed.

"I know, Sammy. I was scared, too. At first, I was just trying to get to Cas and save him from Aaron. And then that damn tornado came and wreaked havoc everywhere, and there were so many wounded people that needed my help. I haven't seen that many ambulances in all my life. And then I was in the hospital, waiting for them to have a look at Cas, and…," he stopped, his throat corded up with emotion. He was overtired, at the end of his strengths. It had been a damn long day.

"I get it, Dean. Sorry, that came across wrong. We're relieved you and Cas are more or less okay. Take your time, get some rest, and call us tomorrow when everything has settled down a little bit, yeah? And say hello from us to Cas."

…

Dean had managed driving home, where he made quick work. He took a cold shower against his fatigue, watched the blood and dirt of the day disappearing in the drain. He was so god damn tired, about to collapse, but he didn't have time to dwell on his exhaustion: Cas needed him. With fast, thoughtful movements, he raided their closet, packed a bag for Cas' stay in the hospital. He made sure to get his favorite T-shirt, too – an old, soft cotton shirt in navy blue with the logo of Led Zeppelin. For a second, he paused, brought it to his nose, and deeply inhaled the unique soapy, lemony scent of Cas, felt it widening his chest. The dam finally broke, as realization set in what a horrendous day it had been, how afraid he had been. He breathed against the pain, tried to soothe his frayed nerves, but he couldn't stop crying into the shirt, Cas' scent all around him. Damn it. He had come so close to losing him, it was hard to digest.

His ride back to the hospital was plunged into contemplative silence. It was getting dark outside, the electric, colorful lights of shops and houses passed him by. The events of the last days bustled about in Dean's head; it seemed they were pieces of a puzzle he tried to put together: Castiel sitting in the flowerbeds with bees all around him; the shocked look in his deep blue eyes when he had seen Aaron for the first time. His wrecked face when he had confessed his fears about being not good enough for Dean, his worries about starting a family of their own. The night they had made love and held hands, as if they were silently promising the other to never let go. Aaron holding a gun to Cas' head. Dean racing through Sioux Fall to get him back. Cradling Castiel's face in his hands, their tears of relief mingling… Dean bit on his lower lip as he started to realize what it all meant, what his heart was telling him. Swiftly, he turned the Impala around, headed downtown to run an errand, resoluteness bringing a tender smile to his mouth.

A while later, he returned to the hospital, the duffel bag with Castiel's things carried over his shoulder. Castiel was still deeply asleep, looking lost and terribly vulnerable in the hospital bed. Dean sat down in the uncomfortable plastic chair beside him, scooted over to have a better look at him in the dark. He looked his fill, mesmerized by the way Castiel's chest moved up and down, how his mouth was slightly parted in his sleep. His breaths created a wonderfully tranquil music, which, slowly but surely, lulled Dean to sleep. His head rolled to the side without him realizing it, and he fell asleep there on the chair. The last conscious thought flitting through his mind was the hope, that tomorrow would be a better day.

…

They were woken up by a nurse coming inside around seven. The pale sunlight was shining through the windows. Dean yawned heartily, tried to figure out where the hell he was. Then he realized he was still fully clothed and sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, and all the memories of yesterday rushed back to his mind. He grimaced unhappily. His shoulders were awfully uptight, so he sat up straight and stretched himself. His eyes fell on Castiel, who was silently watching him, amusement dancing in his eyes. He seemed wide awake already. The nurse greeted them kindly and did her routine check. Castiel barely managed to concentrate on her questions, his eyes traveled to Dean all the time, seemed glued to him. It made Dean smile softly, his heart flutter excitedly. He remembered the plan he had come up with yesterday evening, let one hand wander into his jacket pocket to reassure himself it hadn't been a lucid dream. His fingers found the item in his pocket, clasped it tightly. A spike of nervousness shot through him, he swallowed around the big lump in his throat.

Finally, the nurse was done and left the room with the promising hint Castiel might be released today. When she was gone, Dean got up and stooped over Cas. His hand gently touched his cheek, his thumb stroked over the light stubble on his chin. Their eyes met, and Dean smiled softly. He leaned down and kissed Cas deeply, urged him to open his mouth with his own. There was an urgency, an aching need lingering in their kiss, which made Dean's head spin, which brought a hot blush to his cheeks. For a second, he let go of Cas to see the expression in his eyes, was overwhelmed to find nothing but adoration and desire there. He bent down for another kiss, electrified when Castiel kissed him harder, making him forget the whole damn world around them.

At last, Castiel stopped kissing him, panted against Dean's kiss-wet mouth breathlessly. With his good hand, he touched the back of Dean's head, brought their foreheads together. For a sweet moment of idleness, they closed their lids, enjoyed being reunited like this.

"Good morning, honey," Cas quietly said, blindly pecked Dean's lips.

"Morning, sunshine," Dean replied muffled into their kiss, making Castiel chuckle and let him go. With a cheeky grin, Dean sat down again on his chair, watched the sunlight refract beautifully in Castiel's eyes. They were shining like gems, twinkled with an unfathomable zest for life, which cut right through Dean's heart. He could barely find the words for what he was feeling, how relieved he was to see the man he loved. However, his good mood diminished somewhat when he examined Castiel's wounds. Castiel's eyes followed his, came to rest on the plaster cast around his right hand. He had an unhappy frown on his face and sighed miserably.

"Damn it, I don't think I can use my hand in the next weeks. And it's the right one on top of that!" he complained. Dean considered it a small price for what Castiel had survived. He shrugged.

"Well, I can do the cooking for once," he offered. In return, he received Castiel's dark look.

"Please don't. I still have nightmares about your chili cheese fries."

"Come on, Cas, they weren't that bad."

They laughed a little. Dean thought it was wonderful to see Cas smile again, how loveable and dolce he looked. After what he had been through, it was a miracle to Dean that he still had the strength to smile and act unperturbed. The smile slowly slipped from Dean's mouth as a bittersweet notion gripped his heart. He sought for Castiel's eyes and gave him a tender, meaningful look. Dean reached for Cas' undamaged left hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"You scared the hell out of me, Cas."

He sounded choked with emotion, for he was still rattled. He felt as if he was right on a wild roller-coaster of emotions. Cas smiled a little at him, but there was a sharp grimness in his look. He nodded subtly, understood the severity of the events.

"I was scared, too, Dean. I thought that tornado would kill us all. And I had warned you not to come, but you wouldn't listen," he scolded, half annoyed. It made Dean smiled amused. After all these years of their relationship, Cas still didn't give up when it came to Dean's stubbornness – as if he could ever change that.

"You know me, Cas. I just had to make sure you were okay. And I did, didn't I?"

He gave his partner a winning smile, but Cas just rolled his eyes and badly tried to stifle a lopsided smirk. He looked at their intertwined fingers and stroked Dean's back of the hand lovingly.

"You're reckless and impulsive," Cas noted sternly. Then he looked up at Dean from under his lashes, heat burning in his eyes.

"... and I love you for that, you idiot."

Dean harrumphed, scratched his neck abashed with his other hand. He was practically steaming, he was blushing so hard. The moment seemed right to him to finally man up and put his plan into action. He let go of Cas' hand, reached into his jacket pocket again, fingering the item resting there, waiting for him to reveal it. Castiel caught the change in his demeanor instantly, gave him a wry look.

"What is it?" he asked, making Dean huff out a nervous chuckle. He took a deep breath, drowned in the depth of the blue wells that were Castiel's eyes. The longer he looked at him, the more the certainty in his heart grew, and all nervousness fell from him, was nearly forgotten. He smiled affectionately.

"Listen, Cas… yesterday was awful, but it made me realize something – that I would be a mess without you, buddy. That I never wanna be without you again. And I know, you're having doubts whether you're enough for me because of this whole family thing… but I'm sure about us, Cas. You're all I want, all I need. So… to prove a point," he ended with a cheeky smirk. He got up from the chair and got down on one knee, took Castiel's left hand into his caringly. Castiel's eyes widened in surprise when Dean protruded the small box with his other hand and opened it – it showed a white gold ring dotted with small round sapphires. Cas' jaw dropped, he seemed completely frozen.

"Cas, will you marry me?"

Castiel sucked in a shaky breath, tears welling in his eyes. There was the sweetest smile on his rosy lips. It made a shiver run down Dean's spine. He had never wanted him more than at this moment, wanted to lay the world at his feet. Cas sat up a little, as far as he could, grimacing slightly at the pain. His good hand encompassed Dean's cheek with unspeakable tenderness as their eyes met.

"It'd be an honor, Dean. Three times yes, I will," Cas said with a contagious bright smile. It was reaching up to his eyes, made them shine unearthly beautiful. Stunned, Dean regarded him, felt as if all his innards were melting. He was brain-dead, infatuated goo. Castiel laughed about his obvious surprise, patted his cheek kindly.

"What? Were you thinking I'd say no? By the way, you're the only one I know who could include the word "buddy" in a marriage proposal," he quipped. In the end, realization set in, and Dean's paralysis ended. He got up, vibrating with warm bliss in every of his cell. With loving, cautious movements, he slipped the ring on Castiel's left ring finger, admiring how perfect it fit, as if it had always belonged there. Their eyes locked, both of them sharing the pleasant anticipation of what the future held for them. Dean leaned down, placed a fond, slow kiss on his betrothed mouth. For a quick second, he let go, deeply moved by the love pulsating between them. He looked into Castiel's eyes, thinking he would never tire of doing so.

"I love you, Cas."

Castiel smiled, pecked his lips once more, hummed against them with appreciation.

"Dean, I love you, too."

THE END

(please note another bonus chapter will be posted anytime soon as chapter 21!)