CW: Mild smut.
Castiel watched Dean warily from his spot, still chained to the wall. The demon had returned just seconds ago, but he looked different.
"I found it." Dean said, his words measured. "He didn't use it all."
The angel stared at the small vial in his hands. He could hear the faint hum, pulling at his very being. He brought his eyes back up, surprised to see the demon standing completely still, looking… concerned?
"I don't know what will happen if I give you this." Dean said at last.
"What do you mean?"
"You still have freshly stolen grace."
"My grace will burn it out of me." Cas replied. "It is meant to be there."
"Is there enough of it? To do that?"
"I don't know."
Dean scowled. "If there isn't, it could burn you out and you won't have enough strength to recover from the damage."
Cas said nothing, simply watching Dean fight with himself, showing more emotion than he had at any point since the mark turned him.
"No. It's too risky. Stolen grace is working just fine." He felt silly, holding the grace, having gone through such trouble only to walk back on it now.
"Dean." Cas pleaded softly. "Please don't kill anyone else just to keep me alive." He closed his eyes, figuring the request was useless. "I don't want to be saved that way."
The demon stared at him. It was a moment before he spoke, so soft Castiel almost didn't hear him. "I don't want you to die."
The angel opened his eyes, looking at Dean. "Please." He begged again gently.
Dean didn't so much as twitch for several minutes, internally waging a mental war with himself before coming to a conclusion. Finally he stepped forward. He reached up, opening the cuffs and letting Cas ease himself back down onto his feet. It was another moment's hesitation before he finally opened the small glowing vial, letting the grace fly back to its original owner.
Cas breathed deep, the grace feeling first like a comforting warmth. He smiled for a moment before the warmth grew quickly into a burning fire, spreading through his body. He choked out a strangled cry as the flames of his own grace wormed their way through his blood, overtaking and hollowing out the stolen grace. He swayed backwards, surprised to find himself gathered in the demonic hunter's arms. The demon staggered and they both stumbled to the ground.
He looked up, eyes glowing bright blue as the light built around him. He couldn't hear anything over his own heart beat, pounding with the strain of the violent war inside him. He could see Dean's mouth moving, feel the vibrations in the hunter's chest as he said or maybe shouted something at him, but he couldn't make out any of the words.
Dean clasped an iron grip around the seraph as he bucked and writhed against the searing agony of the grace burning through him. The sound built up slowly at first, and it took a moment for Dean to place the growing noise until they triggered a memory. Mixing with his vessel's voice was a growing angelic sound. The hunter put his head down as one by one the glass bulbs of the overhead lights burst into a shower of glass. He could do nothing but pull Cas up against his chest and hope that he managed to come out the other side of this alive.
Cas wasn't sure how long he screamed, but when the blinding agony receded, he was left in utter silence and darkness. His senses came back in stages, the last shreds of his newly restored grace allowing him to take in his surroundings. The angel pulled himself up, realizing that he heard nothing from the hunter he was leaned up against.
Dean was laying against the wall, where he had braced himself as he held onto Cas. The imprint of one of his mangled wings was freshly smoldering across the demon's shoulder. Dean himself was unconscious. Castiel confirmed he was alive before allowing himself to sink back down to the floor, finally letting the pull of the darkness claim him as well.
.
When Castiel woke, he was laying on something soft. It took his mind a moment to catch up with his memories. He opened his eyes, meaning to seek out the hunter, but he was surprised to find Dean sitting on the edge of the mattress he found himself lying on.
Dean propped Cas up slightly, bringing a glass of water to his lips. "Drink… your grace is very weak right now…"
Cas took a long drink before finally choking, sputtering slightly into the glass before the hunter could pull it away. He coughed, slipping back to lay down. He watched Dean put the glass down before coming back to sit next to him. He felt the hunter take his wrist, keeping track of his heart rate for a moment before letting him go again.
"You were almost human again."
Castiel nodded. "My grace is rallying." He confirmed.
"Good." Dean said. He tried to keep his voice even and indifferent, but he couldn't quite manage to keep the emotion out of his words.
"Your shoulder…"
Dean pulled back his shirt to show the unmarred skin. "Healed." He reassured him.
Cas nodded. This exchange felt bizarre. It felt so… natural. As if the last weeks hadn't happened. As if they were back at the bunker, dealing with the normal run of the mill near death experiences. Not as an angel trapped with and beholden to the demonized soul of the hunter he loved. "Where-?"
"I brought you upstairs." Dean replied.
Cas looked around him with newer understanding. This room… they were in a hotel. Long abandoned by the looks of it. They were now in one of the rooms. So before they had been in the basement. He could still feel the pull of the sigils on the foundations of the building, keeping him trapped.
"It worked." The angel finally breathed, letting it sink in.
"You should be okay now." Dean confirmed. He gave a weak smile. "Scared the shit out of me. I thought you died a couple times back there."
Cas looked back up at the hunter. He sounded so much like Dean right now.
"Your heart is slowing. And all of your wounds are closing." Dean looked over the last of the bruising Cas sustained during his fit. "If I had to guess, your grace will be near full again by morning. It's almost ten at night now."
"How long was I out?"
"Half a day." Dean admitted.
Castiel nodded. His head was dizzy with a thousand thoughts at once. "Sorry." He mumbled, though he wasn't sure why.
"You better be." Dean replied, but his voice was still laced with shaky relief. He sighed. "Get some more rest. I'll be back."
.
Castiel woke again feeling almost entirely back to his old self. He flexed his tattered wings, feeling his grace pulse and ebb within him. He looked around, but didn't see Dean anywhere in the room. He felt a passive and somewhat amusing annoyance with Dean's ability to just come and go while he was stuck here. This must've been what Dean felt all the time back when I could fly.
He frowned, his mind settling back on Dean's behavior the night before. He just seemed so like himself. He wondered if his own near death was really enough to pull Dean back from the brink of madness. Or if it had been more. Maybe the divine light of his grace snapping back in place had burned away just a little of the darkness in his soul. He didn't know if that was how that worked, but it wasn't something he could dismiss out of hand.
He felt a brief stirring in his chest, wondering if that could provide an opening. If he could convince Dean to come back with him. To let Sam cure him. To let them help him at last.
He looked up when Dean arrived back in the room with him.
"You're awake." The hunter said simply. He had regained that stoicism, and the coldness gave Castiel pause.
"Yes." Cas narrowed his eyes, studying Dean's face for any hint about who he was at the moment. He stood up from the bed, walking across the room, still unsure.
The demon tilted his head. "You are back to full strength?"
"Near enough."
Dean nodded, his expression pensive. He walked up to the angel, taking his wrist and beginning another silent and entirely unnecessary check of his pulse.
"Thank you."
The hunter looked up in surprise, wrist still in hand.
"For trusting me… for giving me my grace back."
"I wouldn't let you die." Dean said firmly.
The angel watched Dean's face, his chest clenching with the uncertainty and longing he had felt since Dean first woke up. Castiel leaned forward on impulse, meeting the demon's lips of his own power.
Dean allowed the kiss, holding himself back from deepening it, allowing Cas to guide the outcome this time. He breathed, forcing a part of his mind to keep his emotions in check. He feared a repeat of the loss of control he had experienced last time they got close.
The angel pulled away for just a second, looking deeply into Dean's eyes, no longer surprised to find black eyes staring back at him. His heart skipped a beat but he found his will to care waning.
A week ago he had been sure he was going to die without ever seeing the hunter again. Now he was whole again, and Dean was right in front of him. Here. Real.
He pressed himself forward again, catching the hunter's mouth with his own once more. He felt himself pulled against Dean's chest, and he let himself lean forward until there was no room separating them. He let out a breath as Dean caught his lip between his teeth. Suddenly it felt like there was no air in the room, and he had to remind himself that neither of them needed to breathe.
Dean for his part felt the static arc down his spine, a feeling he was becoming familiar, if not frustrated with. But still he craved it, wanted more of it. He moved with the hand that tried to snake under his outermost layers, shrugging his shoulders free of the flannel. He found himself aware that Cas had at some point discarded his own coat layers. The hunter's hands were tangled up with pulling the tie from around the angel's neck before his mind had even caught up with what he was doing.
Castiel slipped his hands beneath Dean's t-shirt, his hands brushing by his ribs, causing the demon to shudder involuntarily before he lifted his arms and allowed the fabric to slip loose. He reached down with the intent to undo the first button of Castiel's shirt, but the movement was too delicate for how his body shook. After mere seconds he gave up, instead ripping through the shirt in one fluid tug, the button snapping free under the rough attack. Cas leaned back just enough to yank the sleeves off his arms.
When Cas pressed back into his arms, Dean couldn't help a hum of pleasure feeling the electricity surge through every contact point with his skin. His hand slid down the angel's side, fingers brushing just beneath the hem of his pants. He reveled in the noise he got in return.
He felt the angel turn him, pushing him back with such force it cracked the drywall. He allowed the angel to pin him for just a moment before he threw Cas sideways into the window pane, coming up on him again, pressing his mouth into the side of Cas' neck, running his tongue up to flick over the sharp edge of the angel's jaw.
Dean was surprised to find himself being thrown through the wall into the next room over. He picked himself up off the floor with a growl, but it wasn't a call to stop. Cas followed him through, lifting him up and slamming him into the now cracking far wall of that room. Dean felt his heart start to race, his brain (what little was left with room for thinking) ran through the events that just happened.
It was no secret Dean wasn't afraid to get rough with sex. But human beings are, by nature, fragile. As a demon he barely felt being thrown through that wall, and he didn't have to worry about hurting Cas. He lifted his head, hissing as Castiel caught his neck with his teeth, the slight pain sending a shiver through his entire body. He grabbed Cas with both hands, pushing them both forward, teleporting them from that room across the building.
Castiel was passively aware of the landscape shifting around them, but his mind was focused wholly on Dean. Their surroundings morphed into that of a disused ballroom. He felt himself smash backwards through a dusty piano, the sound both deafening and somehow amusing. He let himself be picked up, up on and fully supported by the demon. Three more times they'd jump. The lobby. A drained and abandoned pool. Another disused suite.
They moved perfectly in sync with each other. Cas asking for more, and Dean leading him through any step he didn't know. Dean felt another surge of intoxicating pleasure pulse through him as Cas slipped his hand down under his jeans, over the demon's hip before pulling him close.
Dean thought he had accidentally teleported them down into the basement, but when they hit the ground, he looked up and realized they had simply cracked through the shambling floor boards. He let out a brief laugh at the absurdity before it was cut off by Cas taking his mouth once more. He let himself get lost in the ecstasy that was Castiel, and delivered in return.
When all was said and done, and he laid bare in the euphoric afterglow of climax, Dean casually surveyed their surroundings. He was mildly impressed by the amount of destruction they had managed to inflict on the old building, but given the pleasant soreness that washed over his entire body, he wasn't entirely surprised.
A small grin on his lips, he looked sideways to try to gain a little insight into the angel's mind, but he didn't get the chance. The fist hit him hard and fast, and he was out in an instant.
Castiel let out a breath, his body half collapsing back to the ground, scattering rubble as he fell. He dragged himself up again, checking to make sure Dean was truly unconscious. He stared up at the crumbling ceiling for a moment, trying to regain control of his spinning thoughts, stop the dizzying noise of his own subconscious. He managed to table his conflicted feelings on the events and focus on what he needed to do now.
He finally pushed himself back to his feet, finding and pulling on his pants. He inspected the wall of the basement, sourcing the crack that ran up and through one of the glyphs. He had felt it split while they were in the act, felt the power weaken. He braced himself for impact, rearing up and throwing his entire body weight into the concrete. Over and over again, both him and his battered wings beating mercilessly against the industrial structure until at last the wall shifted, and the runic sigil was fully severed.
The full strength of his grace returning was a head-rush that, coupled with the elation from just moments ago, almost knocked him back on his ass. He powered through it, reaching for a shard of glass from broken lights and slicing into his hand and beginning to work. It took longer than he would have liked to properly paint the devils trap on the floor, but he managed. He waited for the last of his blood to dry before carefully lifting the hunter and laying him in the circle.
Finally, with the task done, Castiel began the slow process of finding his way out of this mess. Once he located the stairs he carefully navigated his way up and through the ruined ground floor of the hotel before managing to push through the last remnants of the angel warding and get outside.
Cas blinked, the sun so bright in contrast to the dark pit of the basement. He fumbled with his pocket, finally pulling out the phone he had snagged from Dean's jeans. He flipped through the map features before finally dialing up Sam's number.
It rang for a moment. "Hello?" The response was muted, but present and the angel clung to it like a lifeline.
Cas spoke quickly, somewhat out of breath, and more than a little freaked. "Sam… I have him. I… he's in a devil trap. I need help."
"Yeah." Sam sounded numb. "Yeah okay. Where are you?"
"I turned on the GPS on his phone… you should be able to follow it. It says we're somewhere near Carver, Massachusetts?"
Sam's voice was weak on the other end. "Okay…I'm an hour away. I will be there shortly."
Castiel heard the call end and took a deep breath, finally allowing his shaky legs to give way, letting his body crash to the ground. Sam was on his way. Dean was contained. They could actually fix this. They could save him.
Two chapters within 24 hours. A new record for me I think.