Supernatural has such wide berth of great secondary characters... It's difficult to choose ones and having to discard others.


Chapter 35

Emma was in the middle of her calligraphy practice for the day, doing her best at angling her S so they wouldn't look like drunkard 5s about to topple over, when a soft rapping sound hit the door of room #14.

"Yes?" she turned around on her chair. "Come in."

"Hey, Emma?" Dean spoke with a cautious smile. "I'm, uh... going to be away for a couple of days, and... just wanted to say goodbye, I guess."

The girl looked at him for a little while, trying to decipher what could be in a farewell that made her father fidget so much in her presence.

"Ok. Are you going because of what happened yesterday with Jacob?"

"... Yeah, it is," Dean admitted wearily, dropping his smile. "He can't keep acting like this forever, being a danger to everyone around and not even caring about it. I'm taking him someplace where I hope they help him get focused."

"I see. Well, good luck with that," she said sincerely.

The hunter looked surprised for a second, not having expected to hear something like that from his daughter, but a small hopeful smile resurfaced on his face.

"Thanks. Let's hope it turns out well for him." He was about to close the door and be on his way when a patch of colour caught his eye, standing out in the rather dull room. "What's that?"

The amazon followed his gaze to one corner of the desk, where a tiny crochet bunny sat cutely next to an over-the-top elaborated funfetti cupcake.

"Isn't that the cupcake from breakfast? It's food. You... you're supposed to eat them."

"I tried one and spat it to the garbage, the sugary blob made me heave. But the colours are pretty," Emma confessed almost bashfully, touching the cupcake delicately with a finger. "I like the red and yellow on it. Jack told me it must mean that I like both ketchup and mayonnaise, but he doesn't know that I actually prefer mustard best."

Dean listened and nodded, storing every little bit of info about the girl under VIS in his brain (Very Important Stuff).

"It's ok, not everyone likes them. I myself am not a fan. And mustard is awesome," her father offered his support, before delivering the gut-wrenching news. "But, you know... food eventually goes bad. You can't preserve this cupcake forever. Even more, anything made with dairies or eggs spoils particularly fast."

This seemed to sadden her, her brow furrowing as in deep thought. Dean hastily changed the subject.

"And what about the little guy?"

"It's a girl," Emma replied, sounding almost offended, taking the rabbit and showing it to him. "See? She has a ribbon on her ear. I liked a lot the book about Alice chasing the white rabbit that they read to us in the bookstore, so Julia made this one for me as a gift, since she likes crocheting."

"So... you like... bunnies?" Dean asked tentatively, his curiosity and thirst to know more about the young amazon almost overpowering him.

"I haven't seen any in real life yet, but I think... yes. Is that bad?" she asked, doubtful.

"No! No, of course it isn't bad. Bunnies are definitely cute," the hunter blabbered, immediately reassuring the girl. "I think so too. I even petted one in the forest, once, when I got lost during a hunt. But, uh... it's a secret, so please don't tell anyone."

"A... secret?" Emma frowned in confusion. "But a secret is supposed to be something that nobody else knows. You've already told me."

"But it can still be a secret, only shared between us. Like how you didn't tell Jack that you preferred mustard but you've said it to me, so only I know? We can keep each other's secrets, as long as we don't tell anyone else."

Emma pondered about this for a moment, ultimately agreeing. For whatever reason that she couldn't understand, this seemed to cause her father to grin.

"Ok, I'm really going now," Dean said, and in an extremely daring move, he awkwardly patted the amazon's head. "Be a good girl, eat your vegetables and all that stuff."

"You don't eat vegetables," the girl pointed out, her eyes watching suspiciously the hand on her hair.

"Yeah, well. I'm an adult, but you're still growing."

The blonde had no reply to that, which Dean took advantage of to flee before he could actually piss off her daughter and lose whatever field he might have conquered. Emma closed the door and returned to her calligraphy notebook, but the conversation with her father kept her distracted for a while, until she reached a conclusion.

"Someday I'd like to pet a bunny too."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The roar of the Impala rushing through the cold wind was music to Dean's ears, more so than usual since there was no classic rock playing at the moment. The mood wasn't right for it.

'Hey, Deano. Can't say it's a pleasure hearing about you again, but whatever. How are you and Sammy doing?"

'Pretty shitty, the usual. Why, did you expect something else?'

Sam hadn't been very supportive of his out of the blue idea, but well, tough luck. It wasn't like his brother had a better one, so that meant they were going to follow Dean's.

"Dean," Castiel called him, riding shotgun and pointing at a traffic sign. "Next Wendy's is three km away. This is the closest one in the road to North Carolina before crossing the state."

'Alright, I have to say that's not a good bed story for kids.'

'Yeah, wouldn't I know? Fact is, the boy needs to be taught a few life lessons that he very clearly doesn't want to learn from us, or me.'

Ok, so truth be told that had actually been Sam's advice, having Castiel tagging along. After their weird chat about male sex, the gigantor had somehow fixated on the idea that they needed some time alone together. Yeah, 'romantic second date', sure... not that Dean didn't appreciate the sentiment, but really, driving for twenty hours was not exactly what anyone would call romantic, not even by Winchesters' low standards. But at least, having his angel there with him meant that they could switch on the wheel and Dean could rest for a while, not even worrying about his murderer-on-the-making in the backseat.

'I'm still a military brat through and through, if that's what you're asking. Promoted to instructor some months ago. I won't be deployed again for a few years, unless a situation of all-hands-on-deck arises.'

'So, you're willing to take him with you?'

Jacob had been quiet the whole trip, all huddled in a warm blanket. After being given the silent treatment for the third time, the hunter gave up.

"Finally," Dean grumbled, taking the fork. "Let's go and be done with this crap."

'I'd do it, sneak him in with the other rookies from this year, but I doubt that making him run laps at 5 a.m. is going to erase his hatred for you. You killed his mum, Deano. That's not something the boy can simply sweat out.'

'Well, it seems to have worked quite good with you? But no, that's not what I want. I don't care if he keeps cursing my name for the rest of ever, not like he would be the first.'

Albeit it was almost noon by the time Dean parked the Impala in the lot, the place was mostly empty. The cold weather and being a work day probably were the cause that the few other vehicles around were trucks on their way to some other business... all except one, a military land rover. And leaning casually against it, there was someone in civil attire waiting for them.

'Train him? Your potential killer, you want me to train him?'

'Right now he's more a danger to himself than he is to me, ok? Teach him some techniques, some knowledge and balance to ground himself. He's so lost that I... I can't... Just, please? Do what you can to help him find his path like you found yours, despite how much you loathed me too.'

Dean and Castiel exited the car and walked towards the man. The kitsune whelp instead didn't even make a move to open his seat's door.

"Nice seeing you again, Kung Fu grip," the hunter greeted.

"It really isn't," was the soldier's reply, though delivered with a friendly smile and holding out his hand to shake. "Things are not that green on your side of the grass, eh Deano?"

"Not very, no. This is Castiel, an angel of the Lord. Cas, this is Cole Trenton."

Cole arched an eyebrow, half-expecting a more detailed explanation that never came, so he took it in stride and shook the seraph's hand.

"Nice to meet you, birdman. And where's the juvie project?"

The three men looked back at the Impala, where the boy still refused to uncurl from the warmth of the blanket.

"I believe foxes are not fond of winter and cold," Castiel commented.

"Sorry," Dean sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We might have to actually drag him out."

"That bad?" Cole chuckled. "I see this is going to be fun."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

If you asked Sam, he would tell you that he's holding the fort while his older brother and angel-in-law are away on their lovey-dovey escapade from the constant rainfall of weirdness that marks the Winchesters' daily routine. But in reality? Poor him was scarred for life at the amount of very graphic sex he had to swim through in order to fulfill the promise of help made to said older brother. It was so overwhelming that it had convinced Sam that the Safe Search filter was nothing more than a scam.

Maybe that was the reason why, for once, when his phone pinged warning him about a new case found by his own-developed very clever algorithm, Sam was more than grateful for the distraction.

"Five people found boiled to death in the last two days," he read to himself. "Experts speculate that a volcanic fissure might have opened under the inner coastal currents due to tectonic movements."

The second he finished reading the preposterous article, Sam called Dean.

"Sam, Dean is driving at this moment," Castiel answered. "I will put you on the speaker."

"Ok, guys, so get this... Sorry to interrupt your pseudo-honeymoon, but we have a case in New Hampshire. Freaky stuff, people boiled to death in a sea cove."

Ignoring the jab at their relationship, Dean grimaced at the mental image.

"Boiled, seriously? As in, boiled like an egg?"

"Yeah, exactly like that. So if you could take a detour and... wait, where exactly are you now?" Sam asked.

"We've dropped off Jacob with Cole an hour ago, we're almost in Kentucky."

"Then, do you want to take a look? You're two days closer to it than us anyway."

"Sure, we'll take it. Send us the coordinates to that faulty heated pool."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Seabrook, New Hampshire, was a little quaint community with a countryside touch, with green forests and a bit of sea that had carved its way into the mainland, water branching into several river mouths.

"It looks the kind of place where neighbours argue about rose bushes and then hide the corpse under the carpet," was Dean's first impression of the peaceful town. "Let me don my FBI suit and we'll pay a visit to whoever is in charge."

Sadly, the sheriff ended up being less than helpful. The old, frail man was in serious need of retirement, and by his own admission, the most interesting case he ever dealt with was when someone had tried to cheat at the slot machines in the casino.

"But I don't get it," the elder said, scratching his almost bald skull. "I thought this was an environmental reaction thing, with the... the plaques and the salt water. Why is the FBI bothering with this? I mean, some folks were ecstatic thinking that we had spurted a thermal fountain of sorts, but we've already closed access to the alcove."

"Your initial suppositions are mistaken," Castiel sternly informed him. "I have thoroughly examined the area and there were no significant rearrangements in the ground structure."

"He... he has a knack for cartography," Dean fumbled, covering for him. "Natural causes dismissed, can we take a look at the corpses, please?"

The sheriff nodded repeatedly, his confused frown never disappearing, but he indicated them the way to the morgue and granted them pass.

Seabrook's morgue was barely more than a refrigerated room in the basement of the local hospital, a small thing like the rest of the town, but looked efficiently clean and well maintained. The coroner didn't have much to tell them save for the obvious cause of death, so she excused herself as soon as she could, leaving the agents to their own inquiries.

"Ok, let's see what's behind door nÂș 1," Dean muttered, pulling out the first corpse. "Yuck! This reminds me why I've never been a fan of seafood."

Disrespect aside, the comment was quite spot-on. The sixth and most recent victim was a woman bloated like a balloon, her skin already dry and receding, but still red as a crab's and full of blisters. Her sockets were empty, for her eyes had apparently liquefied due to extreme heat.

Castiel gaped the instant he saw her.

"Yeah, don't need to tell me," the hunter misunderstood his reaction. "So what do you think? Witches, maybe?"

"Oh no, Dean, not at all," Castiel denied in a forlorn tone. "Evidently there is magic involved, a very powerful one, but it is not from any witch."

"Really? I'd bet this had their signature all over, but if you're so sure... What is it, then?"

"The magic on this person is residual, meaning that she was not an intended objective of it. I would dare to surmise that the same could be deduced from the other cases." The angel looked sadly at the human. "Dean, I am sorry to say this, but these people were killed by sheer accident."

The Winchester looked at him like a crossword he couldn't defeat.

"What? How could anyone kill six people in three days by accident?"

"The residual magic in this unfortunate woman is neutral, meaning it does not come from a witch, nor from any human or monster. It belongs to a salamander, a fire elemental."

"You're telling me that a tiny lizard killed them?" Dean joked. "How, by sneezing fiery snot at them?"

"A salamander, Dean, not a mere lizard," Castiel scoffed, a bit annoyed. "They are one of the four embodiments of natural energy, fire in this particular case. They are most certainly not tiny by any measure."

"Ok, whatever you say. An elemental, let's go with it, but how this thing killed these guys in the first place? Because the ones napping here were boiled in water, not burn by fire."

Castiel shrugged with sufficiency, closing the gurney with conviction.

"I would say that the obvious answer lies in the crime scene."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Darkness had already fallen when Dean and Castiel went to inspect the killing cove, flashlights in hand, the hunter dressed in his usual clothes again. Fortunately for them, it was a clear night with no clouds in the sky, and even the moon shone prettily up above.

"That old man, really?" Dean grunted when they arrived at the place, looking at the yellow plastic band that crossed the mouth of the alcove. "As if a mere ribbon is going to stop anyone from entering. 'Closed access' my ass, what was he thinking?"

The cove itself was a small thing, barely the size of a standard olympic pool. The water had carved its way into the low-heighted rocky cliff, creating a semi-covered cave. Somehow, the sand around the edges sounded softer under their feet than on the rest of the beach.

"The water is unusually warm here, but not to the point of boiling a human," Castiel spoke, crouched with his fingers in said water. "Be careful, Dean."

"I don't see anything or anyone here, Cas," the hunter said, looking everywhere with the flashlight. "What an elemental looks like, anyway?"

"Their visage may vary, it is not specific. But... wait, I detect the currents of magic."

Before Dean could stop him, Castiel walked completely dressed to the middle of the cove, water barely reaching his knees.

"It is here, Dean, I know it!" he exclaimed, getting on all fours as he began to dig in the bottom soil.

"Cas, what the hell are you doing?" the Winchester asked, coming closer.

"DON'T!"

Just in time as Castiel yelled his warning, Dean's shoe minutely came in contact with the water. Instantly, steam and bubbles rose all around the alcove.

"Stay where you are, please," the seraph ordered firmly. "Do not get in the water until I make sure that it is safe for you to do so."

"Yeah, sure. No need to tell me twice. But what are you playing at?" Dean asked, pointing the flashlight towards him.

Castiel didn't deign to answer, and kept digging for a few minutes until... until he unburied another corpse.

"Everything seems to point that this is the elemental responsible of the deaths," the heavenly warrior said, deep sadness in his voice, carrying the body to the shore where Dean awaited. "Nature will mourn this loss."

He laid the body on the sand. Dean couldn't help but notice that it was an attractive man, objectively speaking, and apparently more or less his age. Fire-red hair, a nicely groomed beard and high cheeks. But no signs of harm.

"This was an elemental? Why is he dead? He looks... just fine."

"I do not know," Castiel sighed. "But it is good that we found him in time. As night advances, the tide will rise and this cove will probably be flooded. With so much water, I surmise that his elemental power was suffocated enough, but when the tide goes down it will boil any human who sets a foot in here."

"Chuckdammit... Ok, I guess it's pyre time," Dean mumbled while taking off his jacket, before realizing the irony. "Right, fire elemental, so no pyre. How we dispose of this guy then? Man, it's starting to get hot in here."

Castiel considered the options. The natural magic radiating from the elemental must return to where it belonged: the nature. But in his dead state, he was about to become a clockmaking bomb.

"He needs to be disintegrated." Castiel sat next to the elemental and put a hand on his forehead. "I will contain it for as long as I can, but I need your help, Dean. If I explode him like this, the shockwave will severely damage both you and I, as well as the nearer surroundings."

"Sure, whatever you need, Cas."

"Bring me the silt from where he was buried, a lot. It needs to be enough silt to cover him as in a casket. The water should not be dangerous for you now."

Easier said than done, specially with the clock ticking down on them. Dean left his jacket, plaid shirt and shoes in the sand and got to work. Time and time again, he dug up armfuls of wet silt and brought them to the angel, who smeared the viscous substance over the naked body of the elemental. The hunter had to remind himself that the poor dude was already dead, so it wasn't like he could enjoy Castiel's touch anyway. While he minded the ever-rising level of the water, the seraph eventually formed a silt capsule, hardened compact by the heat.

"I think it is enough, Dean."

"About time, tide's already up to my belly."

The last step was by far the easiest and least tiring, in Dean's opinion. Castiel merely snapped his fingers and the fire elemental dissolved in thin air, like dust in the wind. The aforementioned shockwave still happened, just not in the way they expected: instead of a sonic ripple or something, a geyser shot up in the middle of the alcove, where the elemental had been originally buried.

"Hum... was that supposed to happen?"

"No, not really?" Castiel murmured, equally dumbfounded. "I wonder if we may be overlooking something."

"Whatever, I'm beat and gross. And all this slime is surely going to frost on my skin the moment I step out of this sauna, because no way in hell I'm gonna ride on Baby covered in unidentified blob."

"I could clean you like I have done to myself, if you want."

"Yeah, well... no offense, Cas, but your cleansing mojo never leaves quite the same feeling as a nice, long shower."

"Oh, sorry," the angel muttered dejectedly, until a naughty idea popped up in his brain. "You could also... wash yourself here. The water will still be warm for a few days."

"Wait, here?" Dean laughed at the silly suggestion. "No way, Cas. I'm not stripping down and giving a show to anyone who could walk by."

"It is the middle of the night, Dean; a cold, winter night. There are no more bystanders at this hour. Besides, we are in a secluded place. Nobody would be able to see you," Castiel replied, looking intently at him. "Only me."

At this, the Righteous Man seemed to finally catch up with what the celestial being was hinting at. His eyes widened in surprise and he licked his lips nervously, swallowing the tight lump in this throat, fidgeting on the spot. But he didn't say no.

Very slowly, Dean took the hem of his damp tee and pulled it over his head. Next, lifting one foot first and then the other, he took off his socks; his toes curled in at the feeling of the sand. When his hands moved to unbuckle his belt, the hunter noticed that Castiel's gaze was still focused on his face, and for a fleeting moment he felt the urge to complain. Why did he ask him to get naked if he wasn't going to watch and ogle at the goods? But his tongue felt too dry to speak.

When Dean was down to his birth suit, he walked back to the warm water in the centre of the alcove and began rubbing the dirt off his skin. Luckily, enough moonlight reached inside that he didn't need to hold a flashlight, leaving both of his hands free to wash himself.

"You are so beautiful, Dean," Castiel whispered reverently in the quiet atmosphere.

The Winchester almost lost his footing at the sudden compliment. He was feeling so calm with his angel guarding him that, ironically, he had forgotten that he wasn't actually alone.

"You talking about my soul again?" he smirked.

"Yes, that too."

"Right, hum... nice to know that the rest of the package is also appreciated."

Failing to joke his way out of a kinda awkward situation, a heat that had nothing to do with the deceased elemental made its way to Dean's cheeks. Feeling strangely shy, Dean couldn't hold the seraph's stare.

"You don't need to be embarrassed by my words, Dean," Castiel talked gently to him. "Neither by my presence in your state of nakedness. I was the one who rebuilt you, healing you with my grace. There is not a single cell in your body that I have not seen or touched."

"Cas... shut up and come here with me, you sappy pigeon."

The angel was tidier at removing his clothes than Dean had been, folding them neatly and putting them together. The nightly tide had risen significantly, so the hunter walked a few steps closer to the edge of the cove, where the water level only reached his thighs. Castiel joined him there, invading his personal space as it was his custom.

"You know, it's kinda unfair that you've gotten to second base with my body, while I haven't had the chance to even touch you," Dean said in a low voice, one hand feather-light over the other's hip. "I want to touch you now, Cas."

"Alright, Dean."

It started with a kiss, tender and slow, barely a brush of their mouths. Dean hugged his angel, embracing him delicately and learning the shape of the vessel against his body. Placing a small kiss on the curve of Castiel's neck, his hands roamed up and down the taut back, feeling the strong muscles under the skin. He caressed the round globes of his butt, slightly squeezing them.

"Turn around, angel," Dean whispered in his ear. "Can you, hum... de-grace yourself for a little while, please? For me?"

"Dean..." Castiel sighed the moment they were back to chest. "Do you want me to fellate you again?"

The hunter huffed, almost choking on a laugh.

"No need, I'm good. Just let me feel you."

Castiel complied.

Dean felt the change, when the skin under his fingertips stopped being unnaturally cool in the heated cave and warmed quite a bit. The beatings of the heart also increased, and the angel moaned cutely when his lover grazed his nipples. Dean continued his agonizingly slow assault, not leaving an inch of skin untouched, kissing wherever he could reach. When he finally dared to lower his hands and give a tentative stroke to the hard shaft, the seraph couldn't help a loud surprised gasp, and...

... and look at that, Jimmy's wife had been a very lucky woman indeed.

"D-dean..." Castiel whimpered, clutching one of his wrists.

"Sshh, I got you, my angel," Dean cooed him softly, speeding up a notch his loving ministrations. "I'm here, Cas, I got you. Just let it flow."

The feeling was foreign for Dean, having in his hands a dick that wasn't his, but the position they were in helped. He simply imagined it was his own and teased Castiel as he would do to himself, using the precum leaking from the slit to ease the strokes. Soon enough the seraph was panting, aching for a release that he didn't know how to get, therefore entrusting himself completely to his human charge.

"I, Dean, oh... Deaaann!"

And he was gone. With a pitiful, barely audible choke, Castiel lost himself in the pleasure.

Dean waited patiently, holding his powerful angel that for a moment looked so humanly fragile, trembling in his arms and his seed spilt on the water. A wave of pride ran through him: it was him, Dean Winchester, the one bringing Castiel to climax.

"Dean... I love you, Dean."

The hunter's answer was to kiss him again.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Unbeknownst to the lovers, the moment the geyser shot up his first and only load, they actually overlooked something.

However, at that same moment but half a country away, where it was still the evening, the cambion in the Lebanon bunker felt a painful rush of energy pierce his brain.

"Ough, what the..." Jesse mumbled, letting go of the book he was reading for the lore lesson and holding his head instead.

"Jesse? What's wrong, are you in pain?"

"I'm... I'm fine, Sam, it was only a second. I don't know what..."

Claire, who was next to him, had a hunch and went to check the map table.

"Congrats, boy. It seems like you're next in line," she said, looking at the red dot. "Another key has finally arrived in the States, this time in New Hampshire."

"New Hampshire?" Jack repeated. "Isn't that where Castiel and Dean are right now?"


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