AN: Ah, back on Thee Olde Monday Upload, yeehaw!
This was a tough one to write, folks, but we finally get to meet one of my favorite SPN characters! I hope you enjoy my version of everyone's favorite Trickster :)
A WORD OF WARNING!: This chapter will contain explicit sexual content in the second half, and there is a moment of under-negotiated kink, so check out the endnotes for more information.
And now, onto our feature presentation!
Sam and Dean stepped out of the Impala and stared up at the clearly empty and derelict warehouse in the middle of nowhere. "This is where the supposed murder took place? The place that should be crawling with cops right now?" Dean asked.
A cricket chirp echoed in the silent rural countryside, emphasizing the lack of any activity. Hell, the lack of anything. The ruined building was overgrown with poison ivy vines crawling up the still-standing walls. Dean wondered if they'd need to break out the machete to deal with the weeds almost as tall as Sam between them and the one door he spotted.
Sam was the one who had caught the Wellington PD's APB on their hand-me-down police scanner about a bizarre death. He checked his jacket inner pocket for the pine branch dipped in blood and nodded. Wiping the sweat from his brow (hunting in the summertime was NOT fun), Sam sighed. "This is definitely a trap."
They looked over the roof of the Impala and immediately put out their closed fists to play rock paper scissors. Dean threw scissors twice. "Fuck," he swore in annoyance, looking up at the building.
"You first," Sam pressed him as he walked around the car.
Dean took point, and they quietly approached the rusted metal door along the wall. Dean threw his shoulder into it, and the wooden frame broke quickly. The two brothers stumbled into the warehouse and-
-found themselves sitting in the cab of an unfamiliar car.
"The fuck?" They asked in tandem.
The red leather interior was nice, but the car was smaller than they were used to. Instead of a large bench seat front and back, this had two seats upfront.
"Damn, what the hell is this?" Dean asked, curious but cramped and slightly dizzy at the weird teleportation or whatever had just happened.
"I dunno," Sam said, running his hands over the unfamiliar dash in front of him. They were parked in front of a rundown house, in the middle of a junkyard. Since there were no clues in the car, they got out to check out the surrounding area.
"This is so damn weird," Sam said, frowning in thought. "Like, this is almost Bobby's place, but it's...not?"
"Yeah," Dean agreed. As he scratched his neck, he pointed out differences. "Crusher is there, not in the back forty. Garage should be there, but it's been replaced with a tire mountain and…" He looked up at the sign behind Sam. "Who the hell is Ronny?"
"'Ronny's Salvage Yard,'" Sam read the faded sign facing a road. "Guess we'll see if anyone's home?"
As they started to walk towards the house, Dean paused. They had just gotten out of a pristine 1965 Mustang, shiny black with a red racing stripe along the side.
"Huh," Dean said, a weird sense of deja vu tickling the back of his mind as he looked at the black muscle car. "So funny," he said slowly as Sam turned to watch him. "This was, like, the car I fantasized about sometimes." He huffed awkwardly. "But it would never make sense as a hunting car. Couldn't fit a body in the trunk, not even if Leatherface had got to 'em first," he joked.
Dean ran a hand over the sleek metal hood. "Sorry, Metallicar, but you're no Baby."
There was a sudden shout from the house, and the boys went into hunting mode, sprinting up to the place and trying to look through the dirty glass windows. Hearing a struggle inside, Sam broke the front door down with a kick of his long leg, and they stumbled inside.
Again, the weirdness swept over Dean and paralyzed him for a second. It was almost Bobby's place, but everything was off somehow. He didn't have time to dwell on the specifics because there was a scruffy older man in dingy clothes and trucker's cap in a study, being attacked by a familiar man dressed all in black-
"Cas?" Sam and Dean asked in horrified tandem.
The old man was dropped to the floor as Cas turned to them and Dean immediately jerked backward. He was Cas, dressed in the same black outfit as before, but his entire eyes were cobalt blue as they stared at Dean and Sam. The eyes rolled back until normal blue eyes looked back at them.
Not Bobby coughed harshly. "Run, chuckleheads!"
"Running isn't going to help you now," Cas growled, striding up to them and emanating predatory power. He threw out a hand, and the boys flew through the kitchen and crashed into the kitchen cabinets.
Despite getting his head knocked around to see doubles, Dean still gasped in realization. "That's not Cas!"
"No shit, Dean," Sam spat out some blood from where he'd bit his tongue in the crash landing.
"No, that's Crowstiel, the Blue-Eyed Demon in Paranatural," Dean said in a huff as he got to his feet, automatically getting in front of Sam. "Dude, that's Ronny, the smart trucker guy," Dean said, pointing towards the old man in the back. "Dude, I think we're in Paranatural."
"You aren't putting up much of a fight, Michael Gunn," Crowstiel said as he came up to them. "Considering I'm here for your soul, I was expecting better from the Gunn brothers."
Something tickled the back of Dean's brain; something was off, was wrong. Before he could do anything, the unnatural baying could be heard outside the house. Dean's blood ran cold. "Oh, God no," he said to himself.
"Time's-"
Appearing in front of him, Cas hauled the demon by his black coat lapels and shoved him into a wall. It cracked under the weight of the two Cas's, but Cas held his angel blade to the demon's neck and snarled, "Call off the hellhounds, or I burn you into ash."
The blade bit into the demon's neck, and the skin started to smoke at the contact with the tip. With a snarl, the demon lifted his hand and snapped his fingers; immediately the howling stopped outside, and Dean released the breath he'd been holding.
"Good timing, Cas," Sam said, huffing in relief.
Dean straightened up and took a second to appreciate the view before him. His Cas, with his spiked up hair and waistcoat, pinning the Cas dressed in black, whose hair was messier and smiling creepily. "Two Cas's, man. Why couldn't this be the beginning of a Casa Erotica movie?" He complained.
Four sets of eyes glared at him, so he held up his hands. "What?"
"So, if this is a TV show, why the hell is everything so fucking familiar?" Sam asked, completely puzzled.
Dean looked around the place and scratched his head in thought for a long moment."I think it's based on a book series," was all he could come up with.
Still, puzzle pieces of a different kind fell into place as he stared at the demon, and he put his hands on his hips. "You aren't Crowsitel," Dean declared.
The demon blinked at him, he continued. "I swore the thing that made the demon hot was the Russian accent. What, did you forget it at home this morning?"
"Not a fan, huh?" Sam jibbed him.
"It's a guilty pleasure," Dean muttered. "Besides, it's been on for years. How could I not catch an episode once in a while?"
Instead of being concerned, the demon broke into a triumphant grin. "You're getting better, big guy!" He gently pushed Cas backward, and the form flickered until the auburn-haired, golden-eyed Trickster was standing in front of them, still in the all-black outfit. He walked around the room before doing a little spin back to them. "You hit the nail on the head, Deano! Welcome to Paranatural! Should feel like home sweet home to you two."
When the brothers didn't react to his words, the Trickster bit on his knuckle and snickered. "Oh, you two are in for such a treat when that reveal comes along."
The Trickster changed his demeanor when he looked Sam up and down and gave him a cocky little grin. "Gotta admit, though, wasn't expecting to see you so soon, Sam. Didn't have you pegged as a masochist," he wiggled his eyebrows.
Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably. Dean was about to shove the pine branch from his jacket pointy-end first down the bastard's throat when Sam cut in.
"If it wasn't dire, trust me, I wouldn't have suggested this." Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and held out his hands, palms down. It irked Dean how his brother was treating the Trickster like a spooked horse, not like the monster that had killed him over a hundred times to make a damn point. "We're here because we're asking for your help."
The conceited smile grew wider as the Trickster glanced around the room then, seeing no one else because Ronny had disappeared, pointed to himself. "My help?"
Dean could feel Sam's urge to roll his eyes from across the room, but he controlled himself. "We need your help capturing a demon," Sam said simply.
"I thought you two were the big, bad Winchesters," The Trickster said mockingly. "Why should I help you?"
Before Sam could say anything, Dean stepped in throwing caution to the wind. "Because this is your celestial family drama putting the planet at risk."
A pin falling on the ratty carpet of the study would have echoed around the utter stillness. Dean could feel both Cas and Sam's eyes boring into him, but he didn't take his eyes off the Trickster.
The Trickster laughed. "What kind of mickie got slipped into your power shake, kid?"
Before he lost his nerve, Dean tilted his head towards Cas's form and tapped his temple. "Cas is a hallucination, and the only other being who can see him is Sam. And that's because he's got some angel grace in him. Cas also said you were too strong to be a regular trickster, and no matter how many times you end up on the wrong side of a pine branch, you always slip away."
The Trickster crossed his arms and doubled over in laughter. "Wow, you are some seriously sorry SOBs," he snorted, wiping a tear from his eye. "Sucks I'll have to kill you for realsies, now."
Cas stepped forward. He let out a rumbling string of words that Dean assumed was the same language he had spoken during Sam's detox.
For just a second, hell, a fraction of second, there was a movement around the Trickster that Dean could only describe as the heat mirages that rose from hot asphalt on a summer day. There were several massive mirages around the short man, and then it was gone. But the damage was done, and the Trickster's golden eyes fell heavily onto Cas like a blow from a blacksmith's hammer.
He put his hands to his face and chuckled darkly. "Even after all this time, Castiel, you can see right through me, huh?"
"You don't try very hard," Cas said, crossing his arms and scowling. "When did you stop being dead?"
"Never was," the not-Trickster admitted. "Skipped town, got a face transplant, and carved out my own little corner of the world. The pagans are a pretty welcoming bunch as long as you aren't stepping on their toes directly."
Dean glanced over and unconsciously shuffled away from Cas slightly because he furiously glowered at the being before them.
"So, which one are you?" Dean asked.
The golden eyes landed on him, and the cocky attitude of the Trickster was replaced with an inhuman stillness. He could definitely see some family resemblance from the eyes alone. They held the same alien depth like Cas's did. "They call me Gabriel."
Sam choked on a gasp of air. "No, wait a second! You mean, the Archangel Gabriel?"
"Guilty," the angel winked at the gawking Sam.
He turned to Cas. "Hi Castiel," he said cheekily, Trickster facade back in place. A sheaf of papers poofed into his hands, and he flipped through them with a concentrated hum. "Was there a script change I didn't know about? Because you are definitely the wrong angel riding the wrong Winchester," Gabriel said, pointing between the two of them. "Does Michael know you've grand theft auto'd his vessel?"
"Probably," Cas said simply. "I don't hide my intentions like some."
"You wound me," Gabriel retorted, putting a hand over his heart after the script poofing away. "Still see you're on the high horse as usual."
Dean had no idea how Cas had lasted so long against that grating tone, but apparently, the Trickster-Archangel-had stepped on his last nerve.
Cas straightened up to his full height, actually having several inches on the archangel. His eyes narrowed in disillusionment and rage; Dean was pretty sure if looks could kill, Gabriel would have become a messy smear on the dirty concrete floor.
"I'm not Castiel anymore," he said coldly. "My name is Cas, and you'd do well to remember that."
Dean raised an eyebrow. You were serious about that?
I told you, Dean. You broke the final connection. I'm no longer 'of God' and will not be addressed as such.
Dean wasn't sure who was more surprised by the outburst between the three of them but seeing Gabriel gape like a goldfish was a little validating. "Excuse me? You do remember I can squash you like a pancake? Just because I haven't been home doesn't mean I'm not connected to the office."
Dean and Sam immediately moved forward slightly, instinctually trying to protect Cas from Gabriel's raised hand, his fingers ready to snap.
Cas, will you quit poking the cosmically-powered bear already?
Cas completely ignored Dean's mental plea. "Respect is earned, and you've done nothing to warrant it," he continued.
"Resp-I'm an Archangel, you numbskull!" Gabriel sputtered. It would have been hilarious if it wasn't for the pissed-off celestial beings staring each other down. "What the hell has gotten into you?!"
"Hell," Cas said somberly. "While you were cavorting with the pagans, I was cast down and made a Fallen."
The building tension in the room became brittle and frigid, like the icy wind from the Arctic with Cas's declaration. Gabriel's face paled, the indignant anger draining away with his blood. "What?" he asked quietly, eyes darting all over Cas.
Dean was taken aback by how human that reaction was from Gabriel. If other angels were anything like Cas, he'd been expecting a robot under the human shell. Like Arnold from the Terminator movies-a cyborg. To be fair, Gabriel had been running around as a demigod for millennia; maybe that drilled some personality into him. Or, even though Cas did the same thing as still came off like an alien who has just crashed landed on Earth, maybe Cas was the odd angel out.
Rolling his shoulders, there was a flash of blue light as Cas's eyes glowed and the magnificent wings unfurled from his shoulders. They were just as awe-inspiring as the first time Dean had seen them (but definitely smaller-scaled down for the size of the room, perhaps), but now he noted some differences. He had noticed how damaged they looked before, how many of the feathers were broken and missing. Everything was charred, blackened, and burnt. But now Dean noticed how crookedly the wings hung from Cas's shoulders, how they moved haltingly instead of fluidly. Blackened feathers dropped off and crumbled into ash, and blackened bone poked out in places.
He wondered if Cas (because this was a simple illusion) had made his wings look a little better because he was trying to impress Dean.
Or if he was making the damage as stark as possible to make Gabriel uncomfortable now.
Both Sam and Gabriel stood in front of Cas, mouths open in horror, and both looked close to tears.
Sam's eyes were bulging from his head in total awe-Dean suspected he had a similar expression when Cas showed them to him the first time. Something so wholly other was rare. Most of the time, the monsters they hunted still looked pretty human; the changes they underwent were subtle enough to blend in with their human prey. But giant-ass magical wings were the exact opposite of subtle. Wonder and empathy for the pain his friend had experienced made Sam's eyes misty. "Cas…"
Gabriel, on the other hand, was horrified with his eyes wide and jaw hanging open. "Oh Castiel," he whispered brokenly, absorbing every single flaw. Dean wondered what they had looked like before Hell.
Cas, to an outsider, probably appeared like the display wasn't affecting him. But Dean, having been by Cas's side for just shy of a month, was learning to read him. He could see the shame in the curl of Cas's lip, the rage in the flash of his eyes, the despair in the slump of his shoulders. He could feel Cas, his grace swirling around angrily inside like a swarm of hornets. "Put 'em away, Cas," Dean said gently. "They get the picture."
Indignation shifted to something like relief, and Cas nodded; his wings folded into themselves and disappeared. He stood a little taller and fixed his silent gaze on his older brother.
Gabriel cleared his throat. "Okay, so that explains the shitty possession," he started. "Your grace is so shredded...there's barely anything left of you."
That made a cold hollow open up in Dean's stomach. Cas had said something before, but he hadn't explained it was that bad. "Seriously, Cas?" he asked.
Sam gasped. "How could you waste some on me like that? Cas, I'm not-"
"Stop it, Sam," Cas growled, cutting off whatever self-deprecating crap Sam was about to spout. "It is what it is."
"Cassie, it wasn't about you," Gabriel said, not looking at him.
"Wasn't it?" Cas asked bitterly, striding up to Gabriel. "You didn't just run away from Heaven and abandon your responsibilities. You abandoned me. You should have said something-"
"Plausible deniability," Gabriel interrupted. "I can't pretend to be dead if someone knows I'm not. That's not how it works!"
"I needed you!" Cas snapped, showing a rare moment of vulnerability.
"No, you didn't," Gabriel bit back. "You were always in a league of your own. You're a Seraph for crying out loud! You were going to do your own thing, no matter who had your back or didn't." Gabriel ran a hand through his hair and pushed it back from his face. "What happened to you was unfortunate, but you made your own choices, Castiel. I didn't make you rebel to the point of-"
"I stand by the choices I've made," Cas cut him off. "But the reason why we're here is bigger than you and me," he pointed to the Winchesters. "We can change the future."
"There's no point, little brother," Gabriel said. "The clocks are already ticking. No matter how many flags you throw on the field, you can't stop Fate."
Cas gripped Gabriel's coat lapels. "That, Gabriel, is complete and total bullshit," he snapped. "I dragged Dean from Hell early. Therefore the Righteous Man did not break the First Seal. I cleansed Sam of the demon blood and rid the earth of the demon that poisoned him."
"What do you want, a cookie?" Gabriel said mockingly. Memories of him and Sam getting into it over the years flashed across his mind. Guess sometimes things really are "on Earth as it is in Heaven," huh?
Cas spoke over Gabriel's biting tone. "If we can trap Lilith without killing her until the Winchesters live and die a normal lifespan, the End of Days won't come to pass. We have Fate on the run. We just need you to help us cross the finish line."
Gabriel sighed heavily. "Cassie…"
"You were once the Angel of Justice. How can you sit here and not wish to rectify everything that has gone wrong in this world? The Plan was flawed from the beginning. Humans deserve our guidance, not our disregard. Not wanton destruction."
"How can you spend centuries in hell and still be this naive," Gabriel said bitterly.
"I have faith in myself. And I had faith in you, once upon a time." He tilted his head slightly and zeroed in on Gabriel to the point the archangel almost blinked and looked away. "Are you truly going to let me down twice?"
"That's a low blow," Gabrial complained. He wrenched away from Cas's grip and dramatically groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. "You know what? No! I don't have to do anything. I don't have to listen to a word you knuckleheads have to say; in fact, you can't keep me here at all."
With a sneer and a snap, the Trickster/Archangel was gone. Ronny's house around them morphed back into the interior of an abandoned and overgrown warehouse.
"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled at the empty ceiling, startling a sleeping bird into flight.
"Cas, your brother's a real dick," Sam said.
Cas nodded in agreement. "And he used to be considered one of the kinder ones," he said forlornly.
"Let's get the hell out of here and regroup," Dean said. The grace instead was no longer buzzing angrily but was leaching cold fury. He shivered at the feeling emanating from Cas's grace. We'll figure something out, Cas. Can you not turn me into a meat popsicle in the meantime?
Sorry, Dean. Cas's avatar disappeared. The grace curled up into a little ball inside him refused to move or speak afterward.
Parked in a grassy field outside of Wellington, they sat on the hood of the Impala and split a 6-pack of the cheapest beer they could find and an equally cheap take-out pizza. Their feast represented the last of the cash they had in their pockets. There was one last credit card between them, hanging on tenuously, but like all fraudulent cards, it could get shut off at any minute and leave them high and dry. Things had been so busy recently that they'd neglected to fill out more applications. So, things were rough financially for the Winchesters.
Well, things were always rough in that regard. Hunting didn't pay the bills, and bullets weren't cheap. Dean was mulling over their options as he drank his beer, more out of habit than seeking a buzz.
Dean let Sam have the last slice of pizza as he stretched out his legs. "Good plan going to the Trickster," he said sarcastically. "Why were you so adamant about talking to him, anyway?"
Hazel eyes looked away from him, out across the field they were in, then eventually up at the cloudy night sky. Sam pondered how to answer for a moment but seemed to decide to keep his musings to himself. Instead, he just shrugged with his one shoulder. "Does it matter? We took the shot and missed. Still, since we're alive and no longer stuck in that weird prime time show, I'm counting it as a win."
Dean chuckled awkwardly. "God, we need to raise our standards."
"I can't believe you called him out like that." His brother turned to him, curious. "What would have you done if you were wrong about him being an angel?"
"Run." Dean swallowed his beer. "Really fast," he clarified.
"Sounds about right." Sam huffed and took a drink. "How's Cas?"
"Dunno. He's, uh, done the equivalent of locked himself in his room."
Sam nodded sympathetically. "Well, he knows where to find me if he wants to talk. I'm a resident expert in asshole older brothers."
Dean shoulder-checked him. "Bitch."
Sam shoved back, almost pushing him off the car completely. "Jerk."
Draining the last of his beer, Sam gently hopped down off the hood and replaced his empty bottle into its spot in the cardboard carrier. Then he stretched and yawned. "Think you'll be up all night again?" Sam asked as he opened the back door, creaking its hinges heavily.
"Probably. Pay me five bucks so I make sure no midget clowns eat you."
Sam shot Dean a pretty potent bitchface. "Fuck you and your shitty protection racket," he grumbled.
"Sweet dreams, clown chow!" Dean called out innocently. Sam gave him the middle finger before he slid into the back seat, curled up, and pulled the door closed behind him.
The car rocked as Sam attempted to get comfortable, and Dean felt like a boat on the water. He hadn't felt the same about large bodies of water since they had dealt with a ghost who drowned people on land. That was one of the first cases he'd worked with Sam after the disaster at Stanford.
Snores could be heard from inside of the car. Closing his eyes, Dean let his head thump against the cool glass of the windshield. Cas? You okay?
The condensed ball of grace in his chest loosened up just a touch. "No," Cas said gruffly, appearing next to Dean on the hood of the Impala. "But that doesn't stop time from marching on, now does it?"
Dean rubbed the back of his head and sighed as he turned slightly to look at him. The angel had his legs drawn up, his stubbly cleft chin on top of his knees, and arms warped around his legs. Part of Dean wanted to reach out and touch him, but he got the feeling it was the last thing Cas actually wanted, so he held himself back.
"So, what happened? With him, I mean?"
Cas licked his lips, and Dean tried very hard not to think anything nearing the gutter. "He was my mentor, of sorts. Taken me under his wing while in Heaven. I was something of an outcast, and he was the only angel who'd vouch for me. I ended up being his protege."
"Guess you've always been a nerdy little guy, huh?" Dean tried to make it sound like a gentle tease, but Cas didn't crack. He didn't look at Dean at all.
"So, I guess the real question is why a super-powerful angel would throw himself into witness protection and pretend to be a pagan for a few thousand years?"
"It's an excellent question, Dean. All I know is that he went missing, presumed dead, after the war with Lucifer. He and Gabriel were the closest amongst the Archangels, but otherwise, I have no idea what happened."
"It doesn't matter. Forget him, Cas. He's clearly cut his ties and moved on. Sam is smart. We'll come up with something else."
While Cas didn't say anything, Dean could tell a lot was going on behind those tightly closed eyes. He reached out and gently put a hand on Cas's arm. The contact snapped him out of his spiral, and he looked at Dean with that intense gaze once more.
Funny how once upon a time, that stare had scared the shit out of him. Now, it was comforting in a way. After all, Cas had seen his soul while in Hell-seen the worst Dean had to offer, the worst Dean had hidden from everyone else-and still seemed to think he was a decent person.
"Knowing he's alive and willingly abandoned us is worse than thinking he's been dead this whole time," Cas admitted quietly.
Dean ground his teeth together. "That could apply to a few people I've known too. But Cas, you've got us at least. I know we aren't angels or anything, but we have your back."
"You're worth all the angels in Heaven," Cas said quietly.
Dean leaned up and grabbed Cas in a hug. Cas stiffened up for a second but wrapped his arms around Dean a little easier than he had tried with Sam. He buried his nose in the space between Dean's shoulder and neck and held on. "Gabriel is wrong," he intoned against Dean's skin. "We can still win this war."
"That's the spirit," Dean said when Cas pulled back, seemingly a little more put together. Dean took his hand and held it for a moment. His thumb pressed soothing little circles into the tan flesh. The grace inside him started to thaw a little, becoming warmer. "Cas-"
Shattering the quiet of the countryside-and the moment-was the most obnoxious wolf whistle two feet from them in front of the car. Dean almost jumped out of his skin when he saw the goddamn Trickster, smirking like he'd caught Dean's hand in the cookie jar.
Dean dropped Cas's hand as Gabriel waved his finger at them. "Cassie, Cassie, Cassie! What a scandal! What will the other angels say?"
"Nothing, if they know what's good for them," Cas warned.
Dean's face was warm from the blush, and he couldn't look at Cas's older brother in the face. Taking a breath, he turned his embarrassment to anger and snapped, "What do you want? To torment him again?" He was growing angry on Cas's behalf.
"Relax, Winchester," Gabriel pointed between him and Cas. "I literally do not care about who's on base or whatever's going on in this dugout."
Cas and Dean glanced at each other, and Dean deflected. "I thought you did the warding thing?" He tapped his chest and winced, able to remember the pain from the engraving clear as day.
Cas stared at Gabriel. "I did. No angel should be able to find you or Sam with those. So, how did you find us?"
"Cassie's always been handy with the spellwork," Gabriel said primly. He swaggered up to the car. "Your, uh, boatmobile, on the other hand." He gently kicked the tire, and Dean saw red. "Kinda sticks out."
Cas gripped Dean's forearm to stop him from launching himself at Gabriel. The asshole snapped his fingers and started munching on a Twix, smirking at them.
First, let's listen to what he came here to say. Then we can kill him, Cas offered.
Dean and Cas slid off the hood and came to stand in front of him. "What do you want, Gabriel?"
"Information," he said simply, shoving the candy bar in his mouth. "I might have something like what you're looking for, but I can't help if I don't have specifics." He glanced around the field and said in a conspiratorial whisper: "I help you with this idiotic plan of yours and then we go our own ways, so my cover doesn't get blown. Understand Casti-Cas?"
Cas tilted his head at the angel but nodded after a moment. "Fine."
Eyes darting back and forth, Cas turned to Dean. Dean, I would like to ask a favor.
Uh, sure?
Would you be willing to let me put you under while I talk to Gabriel?
A little shiver of concern ran up his spine. Under? I thought you couldn't.
Not permanently. As soon as we're done I'll wake you. We're both so far out the loop that we'll probably resort to memory sharing, and that's difficult to do even when the vessel's owner isn't conscious. It's an intense process; I'm afraid to do damage to your conscious mind, Dean.
Allowing himself a few seconds to think, Dean realized that he was pretty comfortable with the concept of Cas being completely in charge for a little while.
Taking his silence to be hesitation, Cas said, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary. And I'll keep an eye on Sam.
Worries smoothed out, Dean nodded. Alright, Cas. Just don't scratch the paint if you take me joyriding, he joked.
Not a scratch, Cas promised as he reached out and touched two fingers to Dean's forehead.
Like the motel room not too long ago, Dean got pulled down into a dark place, but instead of falling asleep, he blinked and found himself on a pier. Fishing pole in one hand, sitting a little camping chair, the familiar cooler of beer next to him. The lake in front of him was calm and the weather mild, the forest around him decked out in spectacular fall colors. He glanced around and saw a tiny, weather-worn cabin about fifty feet away, overlooking the lake.
"Nice pad, Cas," Dean said aloud, directing his comment 'up' for some reason. "Is this where you go whenever you disappear?"
He recognized the pier and the lake from some past dreams. So, I'm in a dream right now? Is this some sort of lucid dream thing? Huh. With a shrug, Dean left the pier to investigate the house, crunching through fallen leaves on his way. He made sure to step on the really crispy-looking ones and smiled at the satisfactory crunch underfoot.
It was a tiny place, a one-room shack with an enormous bed taking up most of the area. It was covered with a mountain of mismatched pillows and warm blankets of various colors and textures layered on it. Dean wondered if he could fall asleep in his head...while already asleep in his head…?
"I'm gonna make myself throw up if I try to puzzle this shit out too much," he chastised himself. Besides the bed was a bedside table, a small table with a chair, which seemed to be it. Most of the walls were windows looking out at the calm scene of the water and the forest beyond.
"No beer, Cas?" He joked. As soon as he said it, there was a poof, and a fridge full of his favorite beer popped into existence next to him. "Nice."
Debating what to do, he toed off his boots, draped his long-sleeve flannel over the back of the chair, pulled off his belt to lay there as well. Then, because no one could see him or stop him, he flopped onto the bed as hard as humanly possible and burrowed into the soft sheets and pillows.
It was fucking heavenly. The only thing that could have made it better would have been-
A gentle patter of rain started up outside, and Dean grinned to himself. "Sure know how to make a guy feel special," he chuckled. Still, while he was pretty sure Cas was the one affecting the place, Dean found he missed the angel's actual presence as he drifted off into comfortable sleep.
He woke up to the gentle scritches of fingers softly carding through his hair.
"Hello Dean," Cas whispered. His head was pillowed on Cas's lap, and the angel sat on the bed, watching him almost fondly.
"Hey, sorry," Dean said, sitting upright and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, heart thudding hard. "This bed is amazing. Only thing that could make it better would be some Magic Fingers."
Cas narrowed his eyes and slightly cocked his head to the side. Dean was beginning to recognize Cas's default 'confused/concerned' look. Cas kept himself stoic and impassive most of the time, but the little head tilt was almost like a tic he couldn't stop from doing. It was endearing as hell, honestly.
Dean was distracted from explaining a vibrating bed and why it was the BEST thing since complimentary continental breakfast by...candles. There were lit candles everywhere, on every flat surface, casting the entire cabin in a soft glow and gently flickering shadows. With the rain still gently falling on the roof, the entire room became cozy. Definitely not romantic-cozy!
Because there was no way in hell Cas knew what romantic was...right? The candles were purely practical; there didn't seem to be any other lights in the cabin.
Dean chewed on his lip. "Where are we?"
"I created this place into your mind," Cas explained. "I wasn't sure how long I'd be and I didn't want you to become bored."
"Bored? You were barely gone long enough for that to happen," Dean said, trying hard not to let his stomach flutter at the candles around them, casting soft shadows over Cas's handsome face, enhancing his sharp cheekbones and jawline. It was just practical, he firmly told himself.
Yes, because in a mental construct/lucid dream, lit candles were the practical option.
"Actually, you've been here almost two days."
Dean jerked around to face Cas at that. "Seriously?"
"Gabriel and I had to do a lot of catching up," Cas said a little defensively.
Dean scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Still want to kill him?"
"That's not the question to ask when it comes to Gabriel. The real question is, how high on the list is he at that particular moment?"
Dean laughed loudly at that. "Okay, so…?"
"He's lower than where he started."
"He better be careful. His vessel is already pretty short; he can't go much lower."
That earned Dean an actual laugh from Cas, and he basked in that gummy little miracle.
"So," He hated to bring it up, but he needed to know. "Gabe got any ideas for our Lilith situation?"
Cas paused, his smile fading as he glanced away from Dean. "He has an idea, yes. It's a difficult spell, but the ingredients are rare and hard to come by. He may be gone for a while."
A weight that Dean hadn't realized had settled on his shoulders lifted ever so slightly. There was possibly a light at the end of this tunnel. He knew better than to get his hopes up, but having hope at all was something of a new feeling. He smiled at Cas.
"Alright, if you're here, then where's Sam? He ok?"
"Sam went with Gabriel, actually," Cas admitted.
Good feelings immediately fled the building. He jumped off the bed and towered over Cas. "Cas, what the hell! How could you leave Sam with him?!"
Cas looked at him with his raised eyebrow. "Dean, Sam is safer with Gabriel than anyone else. Archangels are Heaven's most powerful and fearsome of weapons. Anything that would try to harm Sam with Gabriel at his side will die an excruciating death."
"Cas, you don't understand! They've tried to kill each other multiple times! Gabriel could kill him right now, and I couldn't even-!"
Cas grabbed Dean's wrist and held him firmly to stop the pacing he'd unconsciously started to do. "Gabriel is the Angel of Justice. He's not going to start an unprovoked fight, and he's not going to kill Sam just for the cruelty of it. Even as a Trickster, he was still delivering justice, just with a bad sense of humor."
"What if this turns into some sort of hostage situation?"
"Our brothers were getting along remarkably well considering their questionable history. Over the past few days, Sam got to see Gabriel as I remembered him, more than the Trickster persona he'd taken on. He warmed up a little." Cas leaned up and pulled Dean towards him and whispered, "Honestly, Sam was rather excited about invitation and the journey."
"Course he was,' Dean groaned, falling limply next to Cas on the bed and cradling his head in his hands. "He hadn't left the continental US before, and he doesn't have a fear of flying."
"For eons, I watched humanity evolve from the first single-celled life forms to the modern era. And then I missed the blink of time when humanity learned to fly and set foot on the moon?" Cas's shoulders slumped, and he sighed heavily. "That's something I'll always regret."
"Sorry, Cas," Dean said, patting his shoulder, trying to chase away the melancholy radiating from the angel. "We can find the TV footage of the moon landing for you, at least."
"Thank you, Dean."
There was silence for a moment before Cas cleared his throat. "Dean?" Cas was blushing like crazy in the low candlelight, and his eyes were dark, which made Dean's heart beat a little quicker. "Since we are alone, would you be amenable to intercourse?"
Dean's wires were so confused for two seconds that he snorted hard at the clinical words spoken in such a deadpan voice. Cas's voice had dropped even lower, though, and he looked like he was about to eat Dean alive in every sense of the word.
"We gotta work on your pillow talk, angel," he joked. His heart squeezed a little when he confessed, "But, yeah, I'm always amenable when it's you, Cas." He felt himself blush.
The heat in the little cabin seemed to shoot into the triple digits. He eased himself onto Cas's lap and kissed him, exploring Cas's mouth with his tongue while his hands worked opening all the buttons on Cas's waistcoat and shirt. Quicker than the first time, he was able to get his hands on the warm skin under Cas's shirt and broke the kiss to huff in appreciation.
Cas never took his eyes off of Dean's as he pushed the shirt off of Cas's broad shoulders. They landed on the ground, followed by his tie, and Dean pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Just as he leaned down to start nibbling along Cas's jawline, Cas pulled back very deliberately.
"Dean," he said, voice low. He ran his hand gently up and down Dean's chest. "I want to take care of you."
"Oh?" Dean looked Cas over, the blue eyes dark, and he shivered at that piercing gaze. "Do you know what you're doing?"
There was a slight curl of his lip. "I've been studying your memories; I believe I can emulate what's there."
Dean pulled back slightly to chuckle. "You're going to recreate memories of my past hookups to have sex with me?"
"Well," Cas's eyes twinkled. "It's not a recreation when it's better than the original."
"Oh, I like you cocky, Cas. Alright then. Show me what you can do."
Cas cupped Dean's head in his hands and kissed him several times, each getting a little sloppier, a little more desperate until Dean had to pull back for a quick breath.
Cas pushed him back onto the bed until he was over Dean. His hands were roaming over the skin in quick passes, his hands hot like coals from a fire. He tentatively licked over one of Dean's nipples, then doubled down when he squirmed, licking, sucking on it, and then gently running his teeth over the pebbled nub. "Jesus, Cas." Dean could barely breathe before Cas did the same to the other one. His back arched up, chasing Cas's mouth. He threw his head back, eyes fluttering shut and biting his lip.
"No," Cas growled softly, running his thumb firmly against Dean's lip, freeing it. "I want to hear you; don't hold back."
He pushed his knee between Dean's thighs so Dean could grind his clothed dick up on something. Cas pulled back, leaving Dean a barely breathing puddle of lust under him.
"Damn, Cas, where was this last time?"
Cas tilted his head in thought. "I didn't know what I was doing, and everything was overwhelming. It's less overwhelming when I have a goal in mind," he said honestly.
Dean grinned and leaned up on his elbows. "Oh, yeah, what's that?"
Steeling himself, Cas leaned in, the soft candlelight emphasizing his devilish grin. Scraping their stubbly cheeks together, he whispered hotly into the shell of Dean's ear: "To make you forget your name and only remember mine."
Before Dean could reply, Cas shoved their mouths together and kissed him senselessly as his hands undid Dean's belt buckle. He licked the seam of Dean's lips and as he thrust his tongue in, he palmed Dean's dick through the jeans. Dean moaned and grasped the bedsheets in his hands at that, distracted by the salty-sweet tongue in his mouth, Cas looming over him, the smell of petrichor and ozone filling his nose.
Cas pulled back, allowed Dean to take a couple of quick breaths before he went back for more. For what seemed like an eternity, he'd kiss Dean breathless, let him suck in a breath, and do it again while running his hot hands over every inch of skin. The lack of oxygen was making him a little lightheaded but in the best way possible. Dean flopped back onto the soft comforter and licked his swollen lips, eyes glazed over.
"Cas-"
Ignoring Dean, Cas trailed a line of hard, biting hickies down his neck. The stubble scraping against Dean's skin was soothed with the drag of a hot, wet tongue afterward.
"Oh, fuck yeah, Cas," Dean breathed. Dean closed his eyes and tilted his head away, giving Cas all the room to work. He squirmed at how fucking good it felt, those teeth pressing hard enough to bruise but not break the skin.
Dean thrust his dick up against Cas's thigh, the pressure just enough to keep him grounded, but the number of sensations was threatening to drown him.
Cas reached into Dean's jeans and squeezed him through his boxers, making him moan at the pressure around his dick. Easing back down Dean's body, Cas gently slid his jeans and boxers off his legs and tossed them to the floor. Then, he stared at Dean's dick standing proudly from him. There was already some pre-come pearling at the reddened tip.
Dean leaned up on his elbows, curious at what was on the angel's agenda. "So, whatcha gonna do, Cas?"
Cas locked eyes on him for a moment, but he crawled up to Dean and gently took him in hand instead of answering. Dean shuddered at seeing that beautiful hand wrapped around his dick, not calloused like his own hand but strong in its own regard. Cas stroked up and down him a couple of times, and Dean hissed as the pleasure started to build.
"Cas, shit," he huffed, letting himself relax a little as he felt Cas running his hand up and down him. "I was expecting something more than a hand job, with that big game you were talking about earlier," Dean said with a grin. The hand stopped, and Dean opened his eyes to see Cas glaring at him.
"I'm not done yet," Cas growled, and that's when he sucked down Dean's dick from the tip to the root without warning.
Dean shot up like a rocket, crying out, "FUCK! Cas you can't juuuuss-"
All language skills were forgotten because Cas was using every trick in the book that Dean had ever experienced on him. The impossible heat and even, unending suction should have been enough to make him come his brains out, but Cas was doing this trick with his tongue-Just like the waitress at that truck stop in Ohio, shit, Dean thought to himself. One hand had the blanket in a death grip, and the other was threaded into Cas's messy black hair so tightly he'd be ripping it out in chunks if this was real life. "Shit, Cas, that's so fucking hot, goddamn…."
Cas switched it up again, pulling off with a lewd pop and giving Dean a cheeky smirk. The heat smoldering in his eyes was almost enough to set Dean off alone. "Cas, you're gonna kill me," Dean muttered.
"Not before you ejaculate," Cas rumbled. "I'm not that cruel."
His pink tongue ran up and down the length of Dean's dick, and he had a hand firmly gripped around the base, staving off his orgasm as long as possible. Kitten licks to the tip were soothing after such treatment, but Dean couldn't help but writhe and whine under Cas.
Cas reached up and laid a hand on Dean's chest and pushed. Dean took the hint and laid back against the bed, and Cas, with the most obnoxious slurping noises he'd never heard outside of a porno, sucked Dean back down once more. He doesn't need to breathe, Dean thought deliriously, holding onto Cas's hair with both hands for dear fucking life as the angel bobbed his head vigorously. He can take it, but he's making those sounds cause I like 'em…
"That's so fucking hot, Cas. You making those noises, you don't have to, you just are...fuck!"
Dean keened under Cas, feeling like he should have erupted already (hell, twice, already). "Cas, please," he roughly begged, voice wrecked. "Please, please, please! Let me come already, please!"
"Not yet," Cas groaned around Dean, and the hunter felt like he was vibrating out of his damn skin with that low reverberation shooting through him.
Releasing one of his hands, Dean propped himself up on his elbow, desperately curious to watch the show Cas was giving him. Along with the neverending sounds, Cas never took those brilliant blue eyes off of his face, even with his pink lips stretched around his dick and nose in his pubic hair. His dick could feel the heat of Cas's throat swallowing around him. He sucked in a breath and tried to remember how words worked.
"How are you still going?" Dean managed to whisper, completely awed. "I mean, this is the best blow job I've ever had. You're feeling it, too-because same dick, right?"
Cas leaned back and pulled off of Dean. The utter lack of sensation was going to drive him insane, but he hated the idea of Cas doing all the work and getting nothing in return.
"I, um, blocked those sensations," he admitted. "I'm doing this for you, Dean. I didn't want to be distracted."
"Come on, Cas, turn it back on." He let his voice drop lower and fixed Cas with a heated stare. Licking his lips, Dean growled, "Let me see you lose it to your own mouth."
Cas swallowed harshly. "This is for you, Dean," he repeated.
Rolling his eyes at Cas's stubbornness, Dean reached down and pulled Cas up so they could kiss. Hands roaming up and down the muscles of Cas's back, Dean reached under Cas's pants-he still had his dress pants on, why was that so damn hot?-and grabbed his firm ass, bringing him down close. "Come on, Cas, feel this with me. Come with me," he whispered.
For a moment, things slowed down as Cas just made out with Dean. He gently pushed Dean's hands up to lay on the bed next to his head and kissed in such a sweet way that Dean was utterly distracted. Dean leaned up, intent on rolling them over and showing Cas a few moves of his own when hands grabbed his wrists.
Cas sat back, mischief on his face as Dean looked back and forth. A spectral hand made of blue light, transparent like a ghost but rock-solid, was wrapped around each of his wrists. He pulled his arms, but they wouldn't budge. "Cas?" he asked, voice cracking slightly.
"They're just an extension of me," Cas explained, leaning in to kiss Dean with a sudden softness, hands stroking over his ribs and chest. The amulet was gingerly touched on one of his passes. Cas raised that eyebrow and Dean almost melted. "I want to do this for you, and you aren't giving me much choice." He eyed the hands pinning Dean's wrists to the bed.
Dean was torn. On the one hand, this was Cas. Except for Sam and Bobby, there was no one else on God's green earth he trusted more. If Cas was this damn adamant, he should let the angel do what he wanted. On the other hand, while he'd enjoyed many kinky escapades over the years, bloody memories from Hell were still fresh.
Cas brushed away a sweaty lock of hair. "Snap twice, and they'll let you go," he said firmly. Immediately, Dean relaxed a little. The care and reassurance helped Dean to push away the rising anxiety and replace it with trust. Cas had his back, always.
"Dean, let me give this to you, please," Cas purred hotly, with heart-melting sincerity, into his ear, teeth catching and nibbling on his earlobe.
"Alright, fine-" The words were barely out of his mouth before Cas lavished a series of bruises starting at the sensitive spot under his ear. The trail meandered down his chest, pausing as Cas worked over his nipples again with dogged determination. Dean arched up, whining at the sensations of teeth and beard burn and a wet tongue to soothe afterward. He was babbling about how hot Cas was, how good everything felt. His skin was left tingling and hypersensitive.
Cas hummed, accepting the commentary as he moved lower to dip his tongue into Dean's navel, sucked on his hipbones, and ghosted his hot breath over the top of Dean's dick. It was soaked with liquid dribbling from him, and he wiggled to try and get Cas's attention back on his cock. "Please, please, come on Cas-"
Both hands ran over the sensitive skin of his inner thighs before Cas firmly pushed them apart and leaned down to lick up his tightened balls.
"Fuuuuck," Dean arched up, trying to move, but the hands at his wrists wouldn't loosen their grip, and Cas's hands on his hips were just as immovable. Cas gently suckled on one, then the other, and Dean was thrown back in time to that blonde behind the bleachers in his senior year of high school in Nebraska. Except this was a thousand times hotter because it was Cas licking and sucking on his balls. His other hand gently wrapped around Dean's dick, spreading the viscous mix of spit and pre-come around the head. He thumbed the slit, and Dean jerked his hips hard, overwhelmed and about to "Cas Cas Cas-"
"No."
Dean felt his cresting orgasm fucking stop. Cas, somehow, had turned to boil down to a simmer. Tears sprang from his eyes, the sudden reversal almost painful as he was left shuddering. "No, come on, please, I'm begging you, Cas, please…."
"You are," Cas said a little smugly, the dick. "And you beg so beautifully, Dean." He crawled back up and softly kissed Dean several times on the lips and forehead. "You still remember too much English for my taste," he teased darkly.
He thrust his tongue into Dean's mouth and stroked his dick with perfect pressure and rhythm. Syncing the movements of the hand and tongue felt like Cas was fucking him multiple ways. Dean whimpered, covered in sweat, both exhausted and strung out like a high voltage wire. Cas took in every movement of Dean's face as he stroked faster.
"Will you come for me, Dean?" Cas hissed against his lips. "Let go for me?"
Dean whimpered and nodded. "For you, Cas, always-please just let me-!"
Cas suddenly disappeared, but the impossible heat around his dick told Dean where he went. His eyes crisscrossed in pleasure as Cas sucked him down hard, going from zero to sixty with no intention of stopping, making those damned gagging noises in his rough timbre. The pleasure shot up Dean's spine like a rocket and shitshitshitshit! Dean howled Cas's name as he came. Back arched up, toes curled into the blanket, tears squeezed from his eyes as the intense pleasure seized him. It felt like he couldn't stop like his dick forget there was a limit to how much was in the tank. For what seemed like forever, Cas swallowed everything with his single-minded determination until, finally, there was nothing left.
Dean collapsed into a boneless heap. The hands holding his wrists disappeared. His breathing was labored for a moment as Cas pulled off his softening dick before overstimulation could ruin the cloud of blissful afterglow he was currently riding down on.
Cas watched and waited patiently for another moment before he asked: "Was that satisfactory, Dean?"
Too exhausted to speak, he simply gave Cas a weak little thumbs up.
Cas smirked in a self-satisfied way before he crawled up and kissed Dean softly. The musky taste of himself on Cas's tongue was hot, but even Cas's insta-wood abilities would have struggled to get him up so soon.
So, instead, he pulled Cas down until they laid side-by-side, face-to-face. Floppy sex hair partially hid the soft, hooded eyes watching him in the low candlelight. The rain overhead continued to fall, and Dean noticed Cas's eyes darting over his face as if trying to memorize him.
Cas ran his fingers over Dean's exhausted face and chest. Dean ruffled his soft hair and felt the permanent stubble under his trailing fingertips. "Next time, I'll make you forget your name," Dean swore roughly.
Cas's eyebrows went up for a second before a tiny, almost sad smile pulled at the corner of his lips. Before Dean could think about it longer, Cas dipped his head and pulled Dean into his chest. Gently, he ran his hand up and down Dean's back, over his shoulder and neck before scratching through his hair.
When Cas gently brushed over a hickey Dean cleared his throat. "Please leave them," he said, trying not to blush in embarrassment. "Don't, uh, heal them up. I want a reminder."
"As you wish," Cas said softly. He kissed Dean's temple. "You should rest, Dean."
"Yeah, guess you did wear me out," he teased. Since no one could stop him, he snuggled deeper into Cas's warm, smooth chest, nuzzling into his collarbone and entangling their legs. Cas was still only dressed in his dress pants, but it didn't seem to bother him.
"Watch over me?" Dean asked with a teasing, sleepy smile.
"Of course," Cas said, wrapping his arms around Dean and hugging him tightly. "And thank you, Dean. For everything," he said into Dean's temple.
Dean snorted. "I just came my brains out but sure, you're welcome, Cas."
He expected an eye roll, but Cas didn't respond. He just continued to run his fingers over Dean's skin and through his hair until Dean absolutely could not fight the pull of sleep any longer.
When Dean woke up, he was curled up on the front seat of the Impala, drooling onto the jacket under his head as a pillow. He sat up groggily, concern at the empty car and the foggy morning light outside when he remembered Sam was off on an adventure with an archangel in disguise and Cas had-
He instantly flushed in memory. Damn, we are definitely doing that again. But without the freaky extra hands, that was a little odd. He looked at his wrists, startled at the clear bruise of a hand around each. When he poked it, and it ached slightly, Dean grinned. Maybe the freaky hands can stay.
He got out of the car, still in the field, and relieved himself behind a tree not too far away. When he returned, he checked in the side mirror to see, to his surprise, the hickies were still there. So dream hickies are real hickies, huh.
Fishing around in the trunk, Dean brushed his teeth as best he could and pulled on his flannel to hide the bruises. For now, anyway. He leaned against the hood yawning for a moment. "Cas?"
The angel appeared next to him, fully clothed and tidied up. "Good morning, Dean. Did you sleep well?"
"Absolutely," Dean said with a grin. As was tradition now, he reached out and fussed with Cas's hair, loosened his collar and tie a bit. Might not be as dramatic as handprints around his wrists, but it was still proof this happened.
Taking in Cas, thinking about last night, Dean realized he was in so much trouble. I'm in way over my head, he thought to himself. At least I can have awesome sex with Cas if I can't have anything else. The fluttering in his stomach tried to turn sour but he wouldn't let it. Don't wanna ruin Cas's work.
Dean noticed Cas watching him so he winked. "And when we get some time to ourselves, I'm going to return the favor."
Cas looked away. Before Dean could ask what was on the angel's mind, there was a flap of wings and a sudden breeze from the direction he was looking. Gabriel and Sam appeared in front of them.
"Sam! You're okay!" Dean said, striding up to him, checking him over. "What the hell, dude? Since when did you and Gabe become buddies?"
The archangel cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow. "'Gabe'? I've smote people for lesser offenses, Winchester."
His threat was cut off from Sam, who was energetically vibrating between them. Grinning a blinding smile, he held out his hands and Dean saw the large clay pot he was holding. "Dean, look, we went to Jerusalem!"
"The heck is that?" Dean asked curiously.
"Holy oil," Gabriel said nonchalantly. "Gonna need it for our spell. Already grabbed everything else."
Gabriel patted his bulging green jacket pockets, and Dean noticed the trickster was wearing a similar ensemble to Sam, with multiple layers, jeans, and boots. Not gonna think about that too closely.
"You're already done?" Cas cleared his throat. "I thought it would take you longer to gather everything," he admitted, looking ever so slightly pale.
"Oh, it did," he said, and Sam grinned sheepishly. "The Samquatch over there wanted to see things, and we got sidetracked by playing time-travel tourists. Don't worry. I didn't harm a hair on your brother's head," Gabriel said preemptively to Dean.
His brother was looking happier and healthier than Dean had seen him in a while. The dark circles around his eyes and his drawn, pale cheeks were finally gone, replaced with a healthy glow that could only be created with good quality food and actual sleep. The urge to throttle Gabriel lowered slightly.
"You went back in time?" Dean threw his hands up. "You can just do that?"
Gabriel tapped the side of his nose. "I'm an Archangel, Deano. I can do anything I want. Up to, and including, crafting 'an impossible box.' It's not that uncommon of a solution to a supernatural threat, but this is the first time it's been done for a demon. Now, I gotta give Luci props-Lilith is one hell of a demonic prototype," he chuckled at his own joke. "But she pales in comparison to your friendly, neighborhood archangel," he boasted, chest puffed up.
"So, what's the holy oil for?" Dean asked, reaching out to open the clay lid when Gabriel slapped his hand.
"Hey hey hey! Don't go opening weird containers!" he admonished. "How are you still alive?"
Dean rubbed his sore hand before he shoved them into his pockets. "Fine, so what's it for?"
"To catch us an angel," Gabriel said. "The oil is inert by itself, but once lit, no angel can cross the flames. To make sure this box is impenetrable, we need an angel's grace."
"Isn't that like their soul or something?" Dean asked.
Gabriel sighed. "Look, it's unfortunate, but one angelic sacrifice to potentially save the planet? You won't get better odds anywhere else."
Dean nodded. Things were looking up; they had a plan, and it wasn't as half-cocked as one of their usual schemes. Holy crap, we might be able to manage this. We might be able to win this.
"The oil won't be necessary," Cas said, taking a deep breath. He didn't look Dean in the eye, and therefore didn't see Dean's heart crumble into ash at his simple declaration, "I volunteer."
AN: Under negotiated kink: Cas springs some orgasm delay/denial on Dean at the moment but everything is consensual, and Dean can stop if he wants but chooses not to.
WOW! So much happened in this chapter! What did you think about Paranatural and Gabriel? What about that deliciously hot scene between Cas and Dean? Or, what about Cas's declaration at the end? (if you must throw something, please make it soft)
Please, feed me your comments and kudos-they feed the writer and help me to push through and continue writing this fantastic story for your reading pleasure :)