Song Remains the Same
Chapter 26 / Insatiable
"The heart wants what it wants."
- Emily Dickinson
Three Days Later
Plainville, Kansas
...Valentine's Day
Agent Wailer—a.k.a. Alex Winchester—shrugged off her suit jacket and laid it over the chair on top of Sam and Dean's. She wore her typical FBI getup—black dress shoes (not heels—she refused) and a pale blue button-up tucked neatly into navy slacks. She'd even made effort on the hair—pulling it half back and fussing over it, making it look sort of decent for once. She glanced up at Agents Marley and Cliff (Dean and Sam). They were rolling up their sleeves because this particular examination was about to get messy. Alex reflected cynically that this was so typical that they would spend Valentine's Day this way.
Usually when they ran their FBI sham, they divided and conquered—Dean always headed it up and took one of the twins with him while the other one checked into other leads or just sat it out. After all, three agents in one place was unnecessary most times and tended to raise eyebrows. But none of the Winchesters had wanted to miss out on this case. It was weird... even for them. A couple had literally eaten each other to death—leaving very little for the coroner to let them examine, but, still. The same night that this apparently ravenous couple had eaten it (Dean's pun, not Alex's), another couple had shot and killed each other in a double suicide. It wasn't clear if the deaths were related or not. Something supernatural was clearly involved, at least on account of the couple who ate each other.
Saint James Medical Center's coroner, a rotund and jovial old guy, had done what most people did: taken one look at their FBI badges and given the Winchesters free run of the place. He just instructed that they be sure and put the body parts back where they'd found them—which was the refrigerator. Dean snapped on some latex gloves then tossed a pair to each sibling. Alex caught hers and yanked them on, then grabbed one of the disposable blue aprons that Sam and Dean were already wearing, donning it as she watched Sam bring over several clear containers of bloody human remains.
He set them down onto the stainless-steel examination table in the middle of the room while Alex pawed through drawers.
"Geez, there's not much left of these people..." Dean looked over the containers and took a seat at the head of the table. He pulled one of the bins over.
Alex sat down across from Sam and set down a handful of tongs then opened the container in front of her—some entrails. Eugh. She was suddenly rethinking her eagerness to come along to the morgue. She poked through the guts unenthusiastically with tongs and offhandedly wondered where Cas was even as she disturbingly drew comparisons between how similar these guts looked to canned spaghetti. It had been three days since they'd physically seen the angel. She had texted him yesterday, not able to hold herself back anymore. Are you okay? she'd asked. He'd replied about a minute later: Yes. And that had been that. She had almost texted him back about ten times after that but had stopped herself each time. Nothing she thought of to write made sense. And she still kind of got the feeling he was avoiding her maybe...
It was just his mode of operation: appearing unexpectedly, leaving without notice—but now, after seeing him so banged up and weakened, it was hard not to worry about him or demand a status update on his well-being. This was new: she hadn't really worried about him before… he was a freaking super-powered angel for crying out loud—but the past few days worrying about him was pretty much all she'd done. Well, and replaying the time in the honeymoon suite over in her head a million times. Alex hadn't meant for it to happen, but she'd felt close to him then, safe. Trust was growing more and more. And now there was a noticeable, underlying pang in his absence.
She stabbed at the entrails in front of her bleakly. This sucked.
Dean mumbled something to himself beside Alex and she glanced at him darkly. Her oldest brother had been pissing her off royally the past couple days. His confrontation with Michael in Dad's body had clearly shaken him up—that much was clear to her because he'd been meaner than usual—and he'd been drinking more than what was normal too—and Dean drank a lot point blank, so... that was just great. He'd been full on trashed last night and raging about how the music on the radio these days was shit—he'd broken the motel clock by throwing it at the wall, then slurred about how Sam needed to get a damn haircut, and then he'd promptly passed out on the floor. Alex thought it might have been funny another time. But not right now. Dean was constantly losing his temper over little things... he'd shouted at Sam the other day when he'd taken too long to decide what he wanted in the drive-thru, then snapped at Alex when she'd accidentally let some lettuce covered in mayonnaise fall out of her sandwich and onto the back seat of the Impala. She could tell he felt bad about it afterwards, but he never apologized. Just got quiet and stony-faced. Acted like nothing happened.
"Earth to Alex." Sam eyed her from across the table. "You okay?"
Refocusing on what she was supposed to be doing, Alex nodded. "Yeah... just a little tired." It was true enough. The nightmares were still plaguing her and she was weary. Sam looked at her a minute longer before returning to his examination of a heart.
"Hey." Dean abruptly pushed a container with a heart in in toward Sam, his expression really serious. "Be my Valentine?"
He got an eye roll and a 'really?' face from Sam, to which Dean gave a cheesy, fake grin.
"Give me that," Alex muttered, and pushed the container of entrails at Dean.
He took one look at it and cracked another grin. "Spaghetti, anybody?"
"Dean." Sam stopped what he was doing and gave their brother an impatient, annoyed expression. Dean just chuckled at his own joke and stirred through the entrails with the silver clamps wetly. Alex rolled her eyes and picked up the heart from the container she'd just taken from Dean. Squish. The smell of human blood—metallic and cloying—was strong. Sam, who had returned to scrutinizing the heart in front of him paused, seeming to notice something.
"Hey—guys—there's like a weird little mark on this one," he said, frowning and pulling the on-table magnifying glass toward himself. "Like, a number three maybe?" He glanced up at his twin. "Anything weird on that one?"
Alex held the heart in a gloved hand, squinting at a tiny little white mark she'd just noticed just above the right ventricle. What the—? "Yeah, actually—" She swiveled the magnifying glass and peered intently through it. Sure enough, there was a tiny little mark in the bright red tissue. It looked like a fancy letter E or maybe a 3, and it seemed familiar, but she couldn't place it. She held the heart out to Sam to compare the marks. "What do you think?"
Sam took it and squinted at it through the magnifying glass, then sat back, surprised. "Yeah." He frowned in deep thought. "These hearts both have identical marks." He glanced at Dean, then Alex, silent and thinking.
"Okay, why?" Dean asked, voicing what they all were wondering.
Sam ignored Dean, looked at Alex for a second opinion. "All right—am I crazy, or do these marks look Enochian?"
At that question, Alex grabbed the heart back from Sam. She studied the little symbol again. "Huh! Now I remember. There's a symbol kind of like this one in the angel banishing sigil. Not identical but…" she trailed off and looked over the heart at Sam, who looked like he had a similar realization, that he was remembering too.
"Yeah," he said intently, sounding like they were onto something. He glanced up at Dean. "I definitely think it's Enochian."
"What like angel scratches?" Dean asked. He'd gotten up and was looking over Sam's shoulder.
He got a bratty look from his sister. "No, the other Enochian."
Dean gave her a 'you suck' face and stood, fishing for his phone. "See if I share my candy stash with you ever again," he told her threateningly, putting the phone up to his ear.
Sam watched Dean walk off a couple steps then looked at Alex. He leaned closer to her, wincing playfully for effect. "He thinks there's still some left," he whispered.
Alex pulled an overly dramatic wince. "We're so dead," she whispered back, and he cracked a grin—and then they both dissolved into smothered laughter over the table full of bloody human remains.
"Cas, it's Dean," they heard their brother boom into the phone. "Yeah, room thirty-one C, basement level… Saint James Medical Center."
"I'm there now," came a familiar deep voice. Alex stood up and turned around, almost knocking over her chair.
Cas was standing in front of Dean. They were facing each other, phones still to their ears. "Yeah... I get that," Dean said.
There was a long pause and Cas narrowed his eyes. "I'm... gonna hang up now."
"Right..." Dean replied and in unison, the two lowered their phones. Dean turned around, shaking his head while heading back to the examination table.
Cas pocketed his phone and turned his attention to the other Winchesters, approaching behind Dean. He looked fine—walking normally and appearing alert—back to his old self. Alex hung back near the column at the opposite end of the table, relieved to see him better again. Relieved to see him, point blank. "Hello Sam," Cas said first, and then his eyes slid slowly to Alex. "...hello Alex." He paused, taking in her appearance. His head tilted to the side just slightly. "You look nice."
The brothers both gave odd looks toward Cas who still hadn't looked away from Alex. She looked surprised at his compliment. His arms hung at his sides, and he had this open, matter-of-fact expression on his face, the slightest hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. Dean looked between them and cleared his throat, his features twisted into an unhappy expression. "Hey, Romeo—cut the chit chat and take a look at these hearts."
"Hearts?" Castiel turned his attention and walked around the edge of the table next to Dean, who was indicating the table full of human remains.
"Yeah, so, we got a couple who ate each other to death," Dean said. "And this is all that's left."
"Ate each other?" Cas repeated as if he hadn't heard right.
Dean shrugged. "Bon appetite."
Sam pushed the container toward Cas. "They both have these marks on their hearts. Looks Enochian to me. What do you think?"
Castiel picked up the heart in his bare hand, looking at the organ carefully. Alex watched him closely, noting when his expression changed from studious to apprehensive. "You're right, Sam. These are angelic marks." He sounded disturbed and glanced vaguely in Alex's direction. "I imagine you'll find similar marks on the other couples' hearts as well."
"So, what are they?" Sam asked. "I mean, what do they mean?"
"It's... a mark of union," Castiel said, and he sounded even more disturbed than before. "This man and woman were intended... to mate." He put the heart down, his hand now bloody. Preoccupied, he shook it, wiping it against the edge of the container.
"To date?" Alex asked, thinking she had misheard.
Cas stopped wiping his hand against the container and looked at her kind of hesitantly. In the dim light of the morgue, his eyes looked so dark and full of something that made her feel funny. Real funny. "No... to mate."
Dean and Sam were exchanging a weirded-out look. "Okay, intended by who?" Dean asked.
Cas was rubbing his fingers together, looking at the blood left there distractedly. "Well, your people call them 'Cupid.'" Alex grabbed a paper towel from a small shelf underneath the table, frowning at him in surprise.
"Cupid? Heart and arrows Cupid?" She held out the paper towel, indicating his hand.
He looked at her fully—there was a pause—then he took the item and began to wipe his hand. "Thank you. And no, not really. There are no... arrows." He glanced at her again. "What human myth has mistaken for 'Cupid' is actually a lower order of angel." He glanced at Dean now, who looked more and more doubtful by the second. "Technically it's a cherub, third-class."
"…Cherub?" Dean repeated dubiously.
"Yeah, they're all over the world," Cas said matter-of-factly. "There are dozens of them." Alex heard what he'd said, but paused, noticing he'd said 'yeah.' That was new, wasn't it? She watched him out of the corner of her eye, realizing that every time she saw him, he surprised her with the little things he was picking up, learning, then implementing.
While Alex was noticing this, Dean's mind was clearly somewhere else. "Cupid? You mean the little flying fat kid in diapers?"
Cas stopped cleaning off his hand and fixed Dean with one of those squinty, I-don't-understand frowns. "They're not incontinent." Dean's face was priceless at Castiel's reply—he apparently had no response for that one. Alex either. Cas was looking at her again, frowning deeply and apparently thinking hard. She smashed her lips together, trying to look serious, which was hard when the word 'incontinent' was used in out loud.
"Okay, anyway. So, what you're saying—" Sam started.
Cas looked away from Alex and cut him off, suddenly very intense, moving forward adamantly. "What I'm saying is a Cupid has gone rogue and we have to stop him—before he kills again."
The sudden burst of assertiveness startled them all.
Sam looked at Cas for a couple beats, unsure of how to respond. Then in a little higher pitched voice than normal, he said, "naturally," making a weird face and nodding at the table.
Cas seemed to recognize that Sam didn't believe him and he turned to Dean, who was nodding patronizingly, pretending to be sympathetic. "Of course we do."
Cas regarded Dean almost sadly, understanding that Dean was being facetious, and then turned to Alex slowly, reluctantly, as if expecting her to insult him, too. She didn't. "I don't see the issue."
Dean made a sound that indicated he thought it was preposterous. "Come on, Alex, Cupid? Really?" He gave a haughty little laugh. "Well. Guess it makes sense for the romance novel groupie to believe in Cupid." The room fell completely silent at the needless jab. Sam looked at Dean, eyebrows raised in surprise—Cas was looking at Dean too, eyes narrowed. Dean put his hands up. "What?!"
Cas watched how Alex rolled her eyes skyward and shook her head, saying nothing. He forcefully refocused. "These, uh, these couples, these people—as long as this Cupid is out there—they're in danger. We have to act quickly."
"Right. Of course. So," Dean said, still not convinced. He had his arms crossed. "How do you track down a Cupid, anyway, huh? How do we find this dude?"
Cas thought for a long beat. "I suggest we find a place that is rife with romance."
Dean looked at Cas impassively. "Speak English."
Castiel's frown deepened. "I am speaking English."
Standing at the back of the room next to another stiff on an examination table—one of the people who'd died by suicide—Alex looked up. "Like somewhere a bunch of couples in love would be?"
Cas met her questioning gaze steadily. "Yes, exactly."
"That restaurant around the corner," Sam suggested, looking at Dean and then Cas. "It is Valentine's Day. A lot of couples will be out."
Cas seemed to hear Sam a couple seconds after he'd finished speaking—the angel looked away from Alex, a little disconcerted even as Sam waited for a reply expectantly. "Uh, yes, excellent idea," Cas said, glancing at Dean and then Alex—who hadn't stopped looking at him once. "I suggest…" he trailed off, eyes locked on Alex. He neglected to finish his sentence.
"Suggest what, Cas?" Dean asked impatiently, glaring at Cas and then Alex. Cas seemed to remember everyone else in the room and looked at Dean again. "I, uh, suggest we go there immediately."
"To stop Cupid from going Rambo." Dean summarized doubtfully.
Cas was confused by the reference. "If that means that we prevent Cupid from further decimating the romantically coupled occupants of this town then… yes."
"Uh huh," Dean said and the gave up, throwing his hands up then letting them go where they smacked him on either leg. "Cupid. Okay! What the hell. Sign me up for crazy." He pulled off his flimsy lab apron and started slamming the container tops back onto the boxes of stuff they'd been examining.
Alex exchanged a look with Sam—what the hell was Dean's problem lately? Sam shrugged lightly, and she thought maybe he was thinking, 'well, that's Dean for you.' Annoyed but also reminded that yes, that was Dean for you, Alex resigned herself to deal with the bullshit. Sam stood up and took off his apron and gloves, then started to stack the containers up.
Still beside the suicide victim, Alex took off the uncomfortable plastic gloves she wore, tossing them into the waste bin. Cas went over to her, stopping right in front of her and she paused, hands on the apron string on either side of her neck. Cas said nothing, just stood there as she waited for him to say something. He didn't say anything, he just looked at her. She grew uncertain. He still he didn't say anything. She heard Dean slamming containers back into the cooler, but she couldn't look away from Cas. She was actually getting sort of uncomfortable under his gaze. Not necessarily in a bad way. Her tongue darted out nervously to wet her lips. Her stomach felt weird. Her head felt foggy. She had to work really hard to get words out. "So you, uh, you feeling better?"
There was a long pause. He almost looked like he was feeling... dreamy? It was officially starting to weird Alex out. "Yes," he said. "I am."
"Um, good." She thought she should take off her apron now but she couldn't really seem to move. His eyes were such an intense blue and captivated her into stillness, and suddenly she was noticing every detail of how cute, no—handsome—he was, how captivating and kissable. Whoa. Her inner monologue stopped, asking... what? Did you just seriously just think that? She tried to push past the thoughts, but her brain could only focus on his eyes, which were looking into hers so completely, then scanning her face, then glancing over her hair.
He seemed intrigued. "Usually your hair is down..." he said, eyes now flickering back and forth between both of hers.
She reached up and touched the side of her head. He liked her hair? She smiled at him shyly, touching the end of her hair below her shoulder. This pleasant, silly haze was taking over her mind. Almost like she was high or something.
"Let's move out, weirdos," Dean said, oblivious to what was going on behind him—he was shrugging on his suit jacket, already headed out the door without a backward glance. Sam followed, his suit jacket already on. He paused by the door.
Alex looked toward the doorway, away from Cas, and suddenly, all the ooey-gooey feelings were gone and she was left wondering what had come over her—maybe she shouldn't have eaten all that stolen candy, huh? Sugar rush. Yeah, that explained it. She chanced a quick peek at Cas, who looked similarly perplexed, staring at the floor with his eyebrows moving together. Weird. Her head felt a bit strange again.
"Today, guys," Dean called. Sam waited at the door for them but Dean was halfway down the hall already. Alex hurried, yanking off the apron and grabbing her jacket. Sam let go of the door and followed in Dean's footsteps—Alex shrugged her jacket on and pulled her hair out of the collar as she headed for the door—Cas held it open for her, watching her walk through—and she was very aware that she was staring at him the whole time too, gawking almost. She almost tripped over her own feet.
Getting mortified with her inexplicable behavior, Alex focused on the shiny marble floor under her feet. Beside her, Cas matched her stride as they walked down the dim hallway. She watched his shoes with great interest. And then she suddenly felt him catch her by the arm, stopping her from walking—she glanced up and saw she'd almost walked smack into a column. She looked at Cas, embarrassed—and also noticing how much she liked the way his hand grasped her arm. From up ahead, Sam came back into view from around a corner he'd already rounded. "Guys," he said impatiently, then paused, giving them a weird look. "What are you doing?"
Cas let go of her arm and they exchanged a mutually worried look. So he felt it too. What was happening? "We're, uh, coming," Alex said, trying to act like everything was peachy, grinning at Sam with her best effort. But from the way her face felt, she realized she probably looked more like a frightened chimpanzee baring its teeth than anything else. Sam gave her an even weirder look and waited for them to get to him, then walked with them the rest of the way—Dean was waiting impatiently at the exit, and then led the way outside. The Impala was parked along the curb but Sam pointed east and led. "Restaurant's this way. Like maybe one or two blocks."
Silently, the group of four made their way up the sidewalk and past the medical center with Dean and Sam in front. There were some shops lining the street here—a bakery and a little gift shop, a drug store, then a florist. There were red roses and hearts all over that particular storefront and a huge display that said 'Happy Valentine's Day' in swirly script. Cas looked at it curiously as they passed by.
On the sidewalk ahead, a bouquet of red roses laid discarded on the sidewalk, as if they'd been dropped in a hurry. Cas stopped in his tracks when he reached them. He stared down at them. Alex stopped too, turning slightly to look at Cas, then Sam and Dean did too. Cas then did a very curious thing. He bent down and picked one single red rose up then looked at it for a long moment. Then he looked up from it and held it out to Alex. She looked at the flower and then him, confused. "...What are you doing?" Her brothers seemed to be wondering the same thing—Sam had a slightly amused, if perplexed look on his face, while Dean looked like he was thinking 'you have got to be shitting me.'
Castiel's expression fell just a little bit and he looked at the rose then back at her. He looked like he thought maybe he'd made a mistake. "Isn't it customary?"
Alex felt the ooey-gooey feelings coming back again as she noticed how far apart they were and how much she disliked that, how some of his hair stuck out on the side of his head and how wonderful that was. "Cas... are you asking me..." she paused, beginning to smile now, the kind of smile you smile when you just can't believe something, "are you asking me to be your Valentine?"
As if the thought hadn't occurred to him, he frowned, eyes squinted up, and he stared hard at the flower. "I... don't know." Cas looked up at her waiting gaze and he blinked a couple times, clearly not sure if he'd done the right thing or not. "Apparently... yes."
Alex felt herself smiling shyly again. Her hands were clasped together in front of herself—his frown was fading into a softer expression, and she just wanted so badly to throw her arms around his neck where he could twirl her around like in the movies—
"Hey," Dean cut into her inner thoughts gruffly, "I thought there was a killer Cupid on the loose—you kids gonna stand there and flirt all day?"
Alex and Cas looked at Dean, and similarly, the weird thoughts Alex didn't quite recognize ceased. Officially getting worried, she glanced at Cas, who looked similarly confused. But he was still holding the flower and looked so damn cute and oh god the little tuft of hair sticking out—
"Come on already," Dean barked over his shoulder, already heading off. Cas looked like he was about to drop the rose, but Alex reached over and took the flower from him. Surprised, his face softened. She grinned at him slyly sidelong and then tucked the rose into her jacket. He hid a smile and looked down at the ground as they followed Sam and Dean. Alex noticed that they fell into step together. He had his hands in his pockets.
They stopped a minute later in front of a restaurant. "Pagrino's," Sam read the sign out loud, then pointed at the little sidewalk sign that was out. "Bring in your Valentine for ten percent off dinner."
"Excellent," Cas said matter-of-factly, raising his chin slightly, looking pleased. "We can receive a discount."
Dean gave a huge huff of air, disgusted but silent, and went into the restaurant. They followed him. It was dim inside, as swanky as a restaurant with booths could get. Pink roses in vases dotted the tables... tables which were filled with couples. Paper hearts hung from the ceiling and tea light candles dotted every surface the restaurant had.
The hostess greeted them with a smile, looking over the four of them. "Table for two couples? Right this way."
Dean looked at Sam, who chuckled. "After you, dear," Sam said, motioning with a hand for his brother to go first. Dean rolled his eyes and started after the hostess.
Cas apparently thought this was a thing, because he parroted Sam with Alex: he extended a hand, indicating she go first. "After you, dear."
Alex did her best not to bust up laughing. She went first, thinking of the rose inside her jacket and thinking of Cas, his face, his voice, his hands... what the—? She had a brief moment of wondering, again, just what the hell was going on. This was more than a sugar rush. She felt giddy and strange, like she had no reign over her own reactions or thoughts. She blinked a couple times, as if trying to clear blurred vision.
Dean waited at the half-booth the hostess had taken them to and was indicating Alex sit next to him. She did, in a daze, and Dean sat down in the chair beside her. Cas was getting into the booth side of the table, opposite of Alex. She avoided looking at him purposefully, as the weird stuff seemed to get weirder when she looked at him. A couple minutes passed where Alex stared at her menu, not reading it, peeking at Cas from over the top of it occasionally, feeling her stomach flip flop, then looking away hastily. Each time she peeked up, he was staring back at her, eyes dark and full.
Watchful and suspicious, Dean appeared to be two seconds away from demanding an explanation. Alex tried harder not to look at anything but her menu. Their waitress arrived after a couple minutes of this awkwardness, smiling widely at Dean. "What can I get you folks?"
Temporarily distracted from watching Cas, Dean handed off his menu. "Cheeseburger, fries, Corona."
"And for your lady friend?" the waitress asked, smiling at Alex.
"Same thing," Alex replied, not really paying attention.
Dean was holding up a correcting finger at the waitress, kind of amused, if a little weirded out. "Not a couple, lady." Alex barely heard him. Cas was looking around the restaurant, head turned to the side—the little shaggy curls behind his ears—they were distracting and maddeningly alluring. In fact, the more she thought about it, the sight of those little dark swoops behind his completely perfect ear literally seemed to devastate her soul, she felt like if she couldn't reach out and just touch them, she might die. Her heart rate was increasing, and her adrenaline was growing. She felt her hand, on her knee, clench as she hungered to grab him. With great effort, she tore her eyes away, freaked out. Stare at the table. Just don't look at him.
But she couldn't help it. Alex chanced another quick glance at him—and at the very same instance, saw him doing the same. They both looked away quickly.
"For you?" the waitress asked Sam.
"Chef salad with vinaigrette and water, please," Mr. Clean Eating replied. Alex smirked to herself, momentarily forgetting her distress. Sam hadn't been so health conscious a few hours ago when he was snatching a Reece's cup from her and shoveling it into his mouth.
The waitress, still addressing Sam, turned to look at Cas. "And for your boyfriend?"
Alex had to glance up at that one—Sam looked entirely unamused. Cas, realizing the waitress was talking about him, glanced up. He'd been staring hard at the little pink rose on the table. "Nothing, thank you."
"All right, shouldn't be long guys. I'll be back with drinks in a sec." The waitress left.
Cas cleared his throat, looking around at the Valentine's decor again. God, even his frown was perfect, he looked so grumpy and sweet and she just really wanted to—Alex stopped herself mid-thought, forcing herself to look down into her lap. What the hell!
"Valentine's Day is a curious human tradition," Cas was saying, staring at one of the little hearts hanging above their booth. "Claudius the second cancelled all marriages and engagements in Rome to try to recruit more soldiers to join his war, but Saint Valentine continued to perform marriages for young lovers in secret." He looked at Sam at this point, then Dean. "When his actions were discovered, he was sentenced to be beaten to death with clubs and to have his head cut off."
All three Winchesters looked at Cas—Sam trying to decide whether to be amused or horrified, Dean impressed and vaguely entertained, Alex wary, breathing a little heavily.
"Wow Cas," Dean said, chuckling. "That's super romantic."
The waitress reappeared with drinks shortly and said she'd be back soon with their order. Alex cracked every single joint in her fingers slowly, feeling more and more anxious.
"I wonder if the couples in here know about the origins of what they're celebrating," Cas said across the table. Don't look at him.
"Maybe you should tell them," Dean wisecracked, taking a swig of his beer.
"Do you really think so?" Cas asked intently, and Alex could hear from his voice that his expression was probably cute and concerned and thoughtful and she really wanted to look at him but no don't do it. She glanced at Dean who looked like he couldn't believe his luck at Cas's naivety. She literally had to lock her neck in place to keep from looking at Cas.
"He's pulling your leg," Sam said.
There was a pause, then a disconcerted, "No he's not. I would feel it."
"He means that Dean's joking!" Alex explained in a fluster, looking at him without even being able to stop herself. Mistake number one, because Cas looked back at her. And their eyes locked. Her heart fluttered in her chest. She saw him swallow, and swore she saw intense predatory desire in his eyes. It was her turn to swallow.
"Here you go, guys," the waitress said, setting down their food and startling Alex out of—whatever was happening in her mind.
"That was fast," Sam commented in surprise.
"Extra staff tonight, it's Valentine's," the waitress explained, the smiled at Sam. "Enjoy, lovebirds!"
"None of us are together," Dean muttered, not very amused about it anymore as he reached for the ketchup bottle. He glanced at Cas, who was snapping out of the stare he'd been sharing with Alex. Dean missed seeing it by a millisecond. "So, what, you just happen to know Cupid likes the cosmos at this place?" Dean slathered his burger in ketchup.
Cas watched him. "Uh—this place is a nexus of human reproduction. It's exactly the kind of—" he swallowed, glanced at Alex, looked down, "—of garden the Cupid will come to—to pollinate." He had his jaw set firmly then tugged at his collar like it was too tight. Alex watched him do that, taking in every detail of that hand and the way it moved—
Dean sat back and stared at his burger, suddenly very uninterested. Across from him, Sam paused, a forkful of salad hovering in the air. "Wait a minute. You're not hungry?"
"No," Dean said, then got defensive. "What? I'm not hungry." Alex and Sam both looked at him like he was nuts and he rolled his eyes. "Take a picture," he said, "it'll last longer."
"None of us possess a camera," Cas said, not getting the slang at all. Alex looked down at her lap, hiding a smile.
Sam, ever the helpful one, turned to the angel. "Sure you do Cas, your phone has one."
Cas paused. Alex peeked up from underneath her lashes—he was looking at Sam suspiciously. "You're... teasing me."
Sam set down his fork with a good natured smile on his face and held out his hand as he made a 'gimme' signal. "No, here, lemme see it."
Cas drew his phone out of his pocket slowly and handed it over to Sam. The phone looked so small in Cas's beautiful huge hand, Alex thought morosely. Longingly.
"Look, you push this button," Sam said, showing Cas, "the camera thing pops up… then push this button…" the phone made a cheesy clicking sound. "Voila."
Cas seemed thoroughly impressed, taking the phone back and staring at it in wonder. "I'm—this is very ingenious." He looked up at them, as if he couldn't believe it, coming close to a grin. And that sight was way, way, way too much for Alex. God in heaven, someone kill me now! she screamed internally, sitting there gripping the table with both hands, feeling like she was going to pass out.
Fascinated, Cas held out the phone and took a photo of the rose in the vase then looked at the screen, smiling to himself. Then he looked at Alex, who wasn't ready and probably looked kind of deer in headlights—but the fake camera sound went off and Cas smiled at the screen where the definitely-horrible picture was now displayed—he then glanced back up at her—she swallowed, wanting to disappear. Cas seemed to feel Dean's pissy stare and held his phone out again, snapping one of him—that would be a good one, the glare clearly saying 'I hate you' was a memory to cherish. Cas then snapped one of Sam, who was mid-bite of salad and saying "hey!" a second after the picture was taken. "I wasn't ready," Sam said through a mouthful of lettuce.
Cas, however, looked at his phone, pleased. "Now I have a photo of each of you," he said proudly. Alex lamented internally, wanting to sob a thousand tears forever and ever. And directly after that thought, she immediately frowned, baffled at herself. A thousand tears forever? Seriously? What the actual fuck was happening to her brain?!
"Lemme blow your mind again," Dean said, completely amused at Cas's lack of technical savvy. Perturbed, Alex looked sidelong at Dean, wishing she could tell her big brother what was happening to her because she needed help, and NOW, but was pretty sure he'd blow a gasket. Unaware of her dilemma, Dean was addressing Cas with exaggerated slowness. "You can text pictures, too."
Instead of looking thrilled, Cas looked suddenly a little downcast. "I prefer not to text," Cas said, looking down at the phone kind of peevishly now, all the previous affection he'd had for it now sullied. "The buttons are so small and my fingers are so big. Every time I make a mistake I have to write a whole new message."
He got three weird looks. Sam pointed at a key on the phone. "See this? It's a backspace button. It erases mistakes."
Cas sat back in the booth, sternly staring at his phone. There was a long pause, and when he spoke, he sounded annoyed. "All this time that was there."
Why did he have to be so damn cute? So, so, so cute…?
Dean was guzzling his beer, looking around the restaurant in a cursory way while Sam stabbed another forkful of salad up. Alex was left to gaze at Cas and feel her heart rate increase, her ability to breathe lessen. He felt her gaze and looked up at her from his lap, expression dark and intense, his chin lowered, his eyes darkening and devouring her almost, and Alex felt like everything else just went away, it was just them and the things she wanted to do to him—and then he seemed to shake himself, the dark desire in his eyes lessening in place of confusion and fear. He looked at her burger, almost sounding panicked. "I want that," he said, and reached for it.
Spell broken, Alex watched him in confusion. "Uh, sure?" He took a huge bite, chewing viciously, staring at Alex the whole time.
For a minute, she felt like herself again and watched him, completely mystified. Something was really weird about all this. No, not even weird, wrong. But her concerns fell away in favor of becoming enraptured in the way his jaw worked as he chewed. God, he was so damn hot that all she wanted to do was throw the table aside and then—she snapped back to attention, catching herself again. Cas had stopped mid-chew, looked to his left. "He's here," Cas said through a mouthful of food, suddenly alert.
They all looked at where he was looking—all they saw were couples. "Where?" Sam asked. "I don't see anything."
"There," Cas indicated a couple that was making out.
"You mean the same-side-of-the-booth couple over there?" Dean asked.
Cas set down his burger and announced: "Meet me in the back." He disappeared.
"Why can't he just walk like a normal person?" Dean complained, throwing down his napkin and getting up. Alex scooted out of the booth in a trancelike state, wondering if she were the only one feeling strange. She felt scared of herself and paranoid.
Dean lead the way back toward the kitchen, ignoring the questioning looks from the staff as they entered.
Alex leaned close to Sam as they followed Dean. "You feeling okay?" she asked him in a hushed, worried tone.
"Yeah why?" Sam asked, glancing down at her with a slight frown.
Alex shrugged, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. "I dunno, I think something must have been in that candy. I feel… weird." Sam shrugged too, like he had nothing to offer or add. That wasn't comforting.
They found Cas in the dingy rear storeroom with his back to them. His hand was outstretched into thin air. "Cas, where is he?" Sam asked striding into the room and looking around in confusion. Just behind him, Dean and Alex came to a stop.
"I have him tethered," Cas muttered, then began to speak Enochian in deep, velvet tones. "Zo da ka ma mah rana. Manifest yourself."
The Winchesters looked around the room expectantly, but nothing happened. Dean's patience gave out and he walked toward Cas slightly. "So where is he?" His tone suggested that Cas had led them on a wild goose chase.
"Here I am!" came a new voice, and Alex jumped. Beside her, Dean had been grabbed by a giant, naked, fat guy who was bear-hugging him from behind and giggling madly, shaking Dean like a rag-doll. The shock alone of the sight made Alex temporarily freeze.
"Help!" Dean wheezed. Not knowing what else to do, Alex whipped out her hunting knife.
Cas was suddenly beside her, holding his arm out in front of her. "There's no need for the knife."
"You sure?" The second their eyes met, they were both rendered useless, just staring at each other. Alex felt her freaked-out expression fade. He was really the most handsome, gorgeous creature in all of heaven or earth...
Without warning the naked guy barreled into Cas, saying, "Hello, you!"
Alex jumped back. "What the hell is happening?!" she demanded of no one in particular.
"This is Cupid?" Dean asked in marked disbelief.
"Yes," Cas managed to reply in a strained voice—it was a very tight hug.
The naked angel set Cas down, now aiming his sights on Sam. "And look at you, huh?" Cupid exclaimed, striding happily toward Sam, who looked terrified.
"No," Sam said, seeing what was about to happen. He turned fast on his heel to leave, but suddenly Cupid was in front of him and grabbing poor Sam into a very enthusiastic hug. This is the point in time where Alex began to slowly shrink back toward Dean, who she figured she could hide behind.
"Yes! Yes, yes, yes!" Cupid responded in growing enthusiasm.
Dean turned to Cas. "Is this a fight?" he demanded. "Are we in a fight?"
Cas shook his head slightly, eyes fixed on Cupid. "This is... their handshake."
Handshake? Cupid was hugging Sam with incredible affection, nuzzling his head into Sam's neck, eyes closed in what looked like bliss.
"Well I don't like it!" Dean announced.
Cas seemed to concede, glancing at Dean for just a second. "No one likes it."
"Why does he have to be naked?" Alex asked despondently, watching Cupid shake Sam around.
Cupid opened his eyes, looked right at her, then grinned. "And Alex!" He said it like he was seeing an old friend.
He let go of a now-traumatized Sam and darted toward Alex, but in between Cas and Dean, Alex held her knife up fast, the glinting tip aimed right at Cupid's chest. "No no no no! No. Stay back, birthday suit!"
Cas stepped up in front of her, his shoulder and arm blocking half of her body from Cupid's approach. With the multiple deterrents, Cupid stopped and sighed, made a sad face, then decided to be coy. "Playing hard to get, huh? I guess I'll let it slide for now. But I'll get a hug from you yet, cutie!"
Alex shrank a little closer to Cas, not taking her eyes off Cupid for a second. She'd never thought a hug could be scary before.
Cupid heaved a deep, happy, self-satisfied sigh. "All right, so—what can I do for you?"
"Why are you doing this?" Castiel asked flatly.
"Doing what?" Cupid asked, wrinkling his nose playfully, a wide, open-mouthed smile on his face.
"Your targets—the ones you've marked—they're slaughtering each other."
Cupid's face fell immediately when Cas told him that. "...What?" The angel looked stricken. "They are?"
"Listen, lord commando, we know, okay?" Dean accused harshly. "Don't play dumb—we know you been flittin' around, popping people with your poison arrow, making them murder each other!"
"What we don't know is why," Cas said, much calmer than Dean. Alex watched Cupid worrying his lip with his finger. He looked positively heartbroken.
"You think that I—" Cupid started, and his chin quivered. "That I would—" he wrung his hands over his belly. "Well, uh... I don't know what to say." His voice broke, he put a hand on his face, and he began to cry. He plodded around Dean and went to the back of the room, giving them a great view of his saggy ass as he bent forward and cried softly.
Sam finally approached Cas, Dean, and Alex, and the four of them watched in disbelief as Cupid's shoulders shook. Alex put away her knife finally. "Great. We made Cupid—giant, crying naked fat man—cry," she said dryly.
Behind her, Sam hesitated. "Should… should somebody maybe... go talk to him?"
"Yeah, that's a good idea," Dean said, and clapped a surprised Alex on the shoulder. "This seems like your area Alex."
"What?!" Alex was dumbstruck. "No it's not! And what if he hugs me?!" Dean shrugged. Alex huffed, looking at Cupid's back hesitantly. "Fine. I'll try," she muttered. Wincing, she approached him slowly and gingerly. Cas trailed her slightly.
"Hey, uh—champ." Cupid was still crying and faced away. "Uh… we didn't mean to upset you… um…"
Suddenly Cupid turned around and grabbed her into a hug even as she made a surprised squeak. Behind her, all three men jumped in surprise. "Oh god. Please stop," Alex protested, squeezing her eyes shut and trying not to feel things. He was hugging her so tightly.
"Uh, gross," Sam muttered, while Dean and Cas acted.
Dean was yanking in vain (angel strength and all) on Cupid's shoulder. "Hey, get your junk off of her, man!"
Cas successfully pushed Cupid and Alex apart with his hands, telling the other angel almost threateningly, "that's enough, Cupid."
Cupid looked a little befuddled, but then just looked at them appealingly. "Look guys, I would never—ever—kill anyone! I love life. I love love. Love is more than a word to me, you know. I love love. I love it! And if that's wrong, I don't want to be right!" He looked at Alex, who was disgruntled beside Cas.
Cupid seemed to be waiting for her to agree with him. Dean shrugged at her and Alex looked back at Cupid, not having a clue what he was talking about. "Yeah... uh, love is… so great..." she said, and Cupid grinned now, putting his hands on his hips. Ugh.
"I knew you'd agree with me, Alex!" Cupid announced jovially before he became more serious. "Look, I was just on my appointed rounds!" he explained with great emotion and worry. "Whatever my targets do after that—that's nothing to do with me. I—I was following my orders." He seemed to get an idea then, looked at Cas, enthusiastic again, optimistic. "Brother! Please brother. Read my mind. Read my mind, you'll see."
Cas pivoted his chin down, staring into Cupid's eyes deeply for a minute, and Dean cocked an eyebrow at Alex as if he were asking 'you seeing this?'
Cas looked at Dean heavily. "He's telling the truth."
Relieved, Cupid sighed dramatically and crossing his eyes for a second. "Jiminy Christmas. Thank you!"
"Wait, wait, you said—you said you were just following orders?" Dean asked.
"Mm-hmm!" Cupid nodded up and down rapidly.
"Whose orders?" Dean demanded.
"Whose?" Cupid laughed merrily at Dean's question, his eyes crinkling up in mirth. "Heaven, silly. Heaven."
"And why does Heaven care if Harry meets Sally?!"
"Oh, well mostly they don't," Cupid responded, suddenly calm and reasonable in the face of Dean's rage. "You know, certain bloodlines, certain destinies." Manic, he grinned at the Winchester siblings ending with Alex, pointing a vague finger at her, then waving it toward Sam, too. "Oh, like yours!"
"What?" Alex and Sam asked in unison, then exchanged a brief glance. Cas questioningly tilted his head to the side and Alex glanced up at him, yet again noticing those damn curls behind his ears—she couldn't look away, lost in thoughts of reaching out and touching him...
"Yeah, the union of John and Mary Winchester," Cupid was saying. "Very big deal upstairs, top priority arrangement. Mmm-hmm."
Alex snapped out of it, frowning to herself.
"Are you saying that you fixed up our parents?" Dean was asking in a deadly tone.
"Well, not me, but…" Cupid grinned again, "Yeah! Well, and it wasn't easy, either. Ooh, they couldn't stand each other at first!" Sam's expression was unreadable as Cupid continued. "But when we were done with them—perfect couple!" Cupid chuckled deeply and his belly jiggled.
"Perfect?" Dean repeated incredulously, like he were daring Cupid to be serious.
"Perfect!" Cupid repeated happily.
"They're dead!" Dean all but shouted.
Cupid's smile faltered into sympathy. "I'm sorry, but... the orders were very clear. You and your brother and sister needed to be born." The manic grin was back. "Your parents were just… 'meant to be'!" He laughed again, putting his hands in the air in front of himself as he began to sing and wave his hands back and forth. "A match made in Heaven—Heaven!"
Dean looked like he was about to lose his mind, stepping closer to Cupid threateningly. "Okay listen douchebag!" he thundered at maximum volume, and Cupid froze in shock. "Stop the damn singing and tell me right now—" Dean jabbed a finger back at Alex, who was watching her brother with uncertainty and then disbelief. "Does she have one of your angel tattoos on her heart?"
Cupid, confused and clearly a little afraid, cowered back slightly. "My what?"
Mouth hanging open, Alex glanced up at Cas, who was looking back at her, inscrutably but... my god. She almost thought from the look on his face that he was thinking the same thing… did the two of them have the marks? But why would Cas be thinking that too, because he hadn't seen 2014 like she had and—my god, his stubble, it was so beautiful and rough looking, she wondered what it would feel like to rub with the palm of her hand—or other things—shit, shit, she tore her eyes away from him.
Dean was in Cupid's face now. "Your angel mark things have a habit of getting the people I love killed," he roared, "so you better fucking tell me right now—" he grabbed Cupid by both shoulders.
Sam protested, "Dean, whoa!" He pulled his angry brother back. Cas had an arm out to stop Alex from intervening, but she wasn't moving at all. It was safer here with him.
Cupid shrugged cautiously, his previous fear replaced with a huge, stupid grin. "Like it or not Dean, some things are just meant to be!" Dean's expression smoldered in hatred. "It's a whole new world!" Cupid exclaimed. He began to sing again. "A whole new woooorld, a new fantastic point of vi—"
Dean yanked himself out of Sam's grip, hauled back, and punched Cupid… and then promptly whirled while holding his fist, his face distorted in pain. "Son of a bitch," he managed, strained.
Sam threw his hands up in exasperation. "Seriously, Dean?"
Dean responded by groaning and looking back at where Cupid had been standing—but he was gone. "Where is he? Where'd he go?!"
Annoyed, Cas looked at Dean plainly. "I believe you upset him."
"Upset him?!" Dean walked off a few steps, shaking out his fist.
Trying to control his anger, Sam followed. "Dean. Enough!" he told him intensely.
Dean stared back angrily. "What!?"
"You just punched a Cupid!" Sam accused.
Dean's immediate, fiery response was, "I punched a dick!"
Alex tried a gentler approach. "Calm down Dean," she said, to which he just put his hands on his hips and pursed his lips, stared at the ceiling angrily.
Sam looked at his twin for support, who shrugged helplessly. And Sam finally came out and asked what he'd been wanting to for awhile now. "Um... so are we gonna talk about what's been up with you lately, or not?"
Dean stared back for a beat, then his glare returned at full force. "Or not." Without anything further, he brushed past Sam and stalked out of the room, leaving his siblings to stare after him in something between disappointment and dejection.
A tense few seconds of silence passed. "I mean, that was out of line, right?" Sam asked, turning to his sister with a conflicted expression.
"Yeah," she agreed, shrugging and shaking her head, feeling disheartened by the entire thing. She was still stuck on the question about the heart-marks. Did she have one, maybe? She glanced at Cas, who was frowning intensely at Sam. Did he? Were they meant to be together, is that why they'd been together in 2014?
"What do you mean, Sam?" Cas was asking. "About… what's been… 'up' with Dean lately?"
Sam shrugged, exasperated. "He's been weird lately. I dunno."
"If by weird you mean 'jerk' then yeah I agree. But it's just his personality," Alex said cynically, her mind half-there. She didn't really mean it, but it sadly felt kind of good to insult him after the past few days.
Distracted and on edge, Sam shook his head. "No, it's not. There's something bothering him."
"Everything is bothering him."
Sam gave her a look like he knew that. He sighed heavily, resigned. "Lemme go find him."
Sam left, heading the direction that Dean had gone. This was ridiculous, Alex thought to herself. Dean punching Cupid, interrogating him about Mom and Dad and herself and then trying to lay him out. Alex turned to Cas, realizing that they were alone—and she suddenly was afraid of what she might do in this crazed mindset of hers—but just then Cupid reappeared in front of them, looking around with a wide-eyed, cartoonish expression. Without even thinking, Alex clutched at Cas's arm so tightly that she slammed flush into his side. She immediately noticed how solid and warm he felt beside her and her mind began going into overdrive with thoughts of touching him all over, consuming him completely, having him as her own. Dammit! Alex gritted her teeth together. She wanted to smash herself in the foot with an anvil—anything to stop thinking these crazy thoughts!
"Is the mean man gone?" Cupid asked anxiously.
"Yes," Cas said, understanding. "The mean man is gone."
"He hurt me," Cupid said sadly then shrugged, his expression changing quickly to upbeat once again. "He tried to hurt me." He waved his hand in dismissal. "But it's okay. I'm fine!" He laughed openly.
Cas looked at Alex. She knew she shouldn't, but she met his gaze, and there they froze until Cas blinked hard and looked away, rattled. "Is there… uh, is there a reason you've returned?" he asked Cupid.
Cupid folded his arms across his hairy chest, giving a long and happy gusty sigh as he smiled at them. "Oh. I just wanted to admire you two a little longer." He began humming Whole New World again then clapped his hands together and rubbed them gleefully. "Yes sir, this is a good one! Possibly the best one ever!" And then he disappeared as suddenly as he'd appeared.
Alex stared blankly at the spot where he'd been. "What…?" She looked at Cas for an explanation. Then noticed that his jacket had gotten a little messed up—probably when Cupid picked him up to hug him. She grasped the lapels, straightening the coat without thought... and then didn't let go. She could feel his eyes boring down onto her and she was suddenly very, very aware of how close he was and how badly she wanted to yank him to her and kiss him until there was no tomorrow, tear into him—she looked up into his eyes and saw his expression was dark and full of intent. His hands came up to her arms, his expression wobbled, brief confusion flashing across his eyes. Then it was gone and he was looking at her like he wanted her, his hands slipped onto her waist, melting her like butter—his face was slowly tilting down toward her—
"Uhh, guys?"
They froze. Sam was at the door, looking confused. Cas and Alex looked at him blankly, still completely frozen. "Uh, pretty sure Dean ditched us." He squinted at the pair, coming forward a couple steps. Cas and Alex separated, looking at their feet and the ground in general. "Is... something going on?" Sam asked, confused and suspicious while also trying to hold back a smile too.
"Nope," Alex said, forcing herself to look up at him. She had a wan smile plastered across her face and Sam didn't look like he believed her—at all—but he nodded (eyes still narrowed in suspicion) and then looked at Cas, who was looking back at Sam with a priceless expression: wide, innocent, eyes, his mouth in a line, forehead all wrinkled up from how high his eyebrows were raised.
Sam cleared his throat and gave them both one more 'yeah right' glance then dropped it, mercifully. He cleared his throat. "Listen, Cas—you mind zapping us over the Palm Motel? Room twenty-six?"
No sooner than had he finished asking the question than they were standing in the requested room. Sam looked impressed and startled. "...I guess that's a yes." He thought of something and saddened a fraction. "Should have gotten my salad to go." Cas disappeared, and the twins looked at the spot where he'd been standing, mystified. Sam took off his suit jacket and sighed tiredly, then looked at Alex the way he did when he knew something was up. "Okay, so what was—" he started, but then Cas suddenly reappeared with two familiar plates—Sam's half eaten salad, and Alex's burger (with one a huge Cas-sized bite missing).
"Your salad, to go," Cas announced.
Sam again looked impressed, then took the plate, in a little bit of a better mood. "Uh, thanks, Cas."
Cas held out the remaining plate toward Alex who was avoiding his gaze. She felt like herself again, and deeply disturbed. "Not too hungry," she said, sitting on the edge of one of the beds. Cas looked personally affronted that she didn't want the burger.
"But you didn't eat anything," he stated. He set the plate down, looking at her piercingly. She stared at his feet. "What can I get you? What would you like?" She glanced up at him. He was being so weird. Well, he was always weird, but this was weirder than usual. What would she like?
You she almost said, and went wide-eyed, staring down at her lap. Shit, get a grip Alex! "I'd like… a um, a, uh, cupcakes," she said down into her lap, saying the second thing that came to mind. Cas was suddenly gone again. "No, I wasn't serious," Alex protested into thin air, then let out an exasperated breath.
"Peculiar little guy, huh?" Sam commented, eyeing Alex closely.
She said nothing, just chewed the inside of her mouth, thinking hard, ready to change the subject. "Okay, Sam, if Cupid's not the culprit for those weird murders... something else is, right?" He clearly saw what she was trying to do and looked at her like 'really?' but she just continued. "The question is, what? I've never heard of a bump in the night that uses angel marks to target victims. I don't remember anything like this case happening ever before."
"Me either," Sam replied automatically, setting his plate aside. "So about earlier—" he tried again, but was interrupted by Cas appearing again. He was holding a box marked Magnolia Bakery—best cupcakes in the USA.
"I got cupcakes," he said simply, looking at the box. "The best cupcakes in the USA." Alex and Sam both stared then Alex stood up slowly, taking in the sight of him standing there in front of her, so close and within reach. He looked so damn delicious and perfect there in that ill-fitting trench coat holding that box of sweets and she was ready to grab him, whirl him around, slam him down on the bed, have her way with—
The door to the motel room opened and Alex swallowed. She was literally starting to sweat. This was not good. She almost felt like she might act on these urges, they got more intense every time, more consuming. More insatiable. It was Dean coming in, and he startled when he saw them all. He must have forgotten that the angel could zap them anywhere faster than Dean could drive. His expression went from troubled to guarded and mean in one second flat.
"Thanks for the ride, Dean," Sam said to him.
Dean tossed his suit jacket onto a coat hanger on the wall. "Shut up." He stopped, sights set on Cas. He took one look at the cupcake box and Dean pointed at him roughly, looking murderous. "You. Me. Outside—now."
Cas complied, still holding the box, and Dean held up a hand, looking at him hard. "Leave the damn cupcakes, Cas!"
The angel set down the box on the kitchenette counter then followed Dean back out the door. Alex stood up, not sure if she should let this happen—Cas glanced back at her uncertainly, and Dean, already looking at Alex, gave her one of the most commanding glares he ever had. "Stay here, Alexandra," he said, "don't even think about following us." Alex felt her mouth drop open, shocked into stillness.
"Alexandra?" she repeated in disbelief as the door slammed behind the two men. He hadn't called her that since… well, she couldn't remember. Sam looked similarly shocked. The twins looked at each other. What is happening? Alex got up and went into the bathroom, avoiding Sam's questioning gaze and reality altogether. She looked in the mirror, seeing a scared-shitless face staring back.
Outside, Cas and Dean stood in the flickering light of the dying overhead light. It was dark out now.
"All right look Cas," Dean started bluntly, not bothering to be polite or watch his tone. "I've tried to bite my tongue but I can't anymore—all that googley eyed crap in the restaurant and will you be my valentine shit—what the hell was that, huh?"
Cas looked unsure, speechless even, and Dean stepped a little closer, lowering his voice. "I don't know what your weird deal is with my sister, Cas, but it needs to stop, and pronto, you hear me!?" Dean was getting out of breath, he was so livid. He walked a couple steps off from Cas, trying to calm down. "Listen," he ranted, whirling around and jabbed his pointer finger down for emphasis, "I may not have much in this hell-hole world but I got Sam and I got Alex and I'll be damned if I let either of them sign their own death warrant!"
"Dean, I—" Cas tried, but Dean cut him off, coming back toward him angrily, his index finger waving angrily.
"I saw the future, Cas, the future where Alex is dead and Sam is Satan's muppet, so don't think you can just explain away this shit!"
Cas tried to speak again, but Dean refused to give way. However, he was starting to sound less angry in favor of desperate. "Cas, man, Alex's death warrant is you! So you tell me what I'm supposed to do when I see the way she looks at you—when you do nothing but stare at her all day long!"
"Enough, Dean," Cas said grimly, looking down to his right.
"Enough?" Dean repeated incredulously.
"Yes, enough," Cas said, and looked at the other man squarely in the eye. "You're... mistaken." He let those words hang for a beat, then took a couple steps away from the motel, down off the sidewalk and into the parking lot. He stared up at the sky solemnly. "Dean I've... I've seen this future to which you're referencing." He looked away from the sky, eyes going down and to the side, in Dean's direction. "I've seen everything."
Behind him, Dean was momentarily shocked into silence. "Everything?"
"Yes," Cas confirmed heavily. His eyes flickered over the sky above him once again as he looked up. "I know that in it, Alex dies because of me. And Dean, I promise you—I will not allow it to happen. Any of it." He turned back around to face Dean, who was stepping off the sidewalk, joining Cas on the pavement, his expression terse. "I apologize Dean," Cas said wearily. "I don't mean it—the things you accuse me of—the way you perceive my relationship to her. I'm her protector. There is a special, profound bond between angels and the ones they protect." He paused, then looked at Dean openly. "I feel the same bond for you."
Dean recoiled just slightly, looking Cas up and down. Unexpectedly, a little humor returned to his voice and demeanor. "Well I don't know how I feel about that, Cas."
"If to a lesser degree," Cas clarified quickly, realizing Dean's implication. "After all, I was never assigned as your guardian. Simply your rescuer."
Dean had to admit that Cas sounded convincing and sad and worried. But Dean didn't wanna be suckered. He remembered 2014 too clearly. "Yeah that's all great Cas," he said, voice returning to a gruff, "but explain to me how you and Alex end up together—together—" he emphasized meaningfully, "four years into the future from now."
Cas's stoic expression flickered. "I'm—I'm unsure." He looked away from Dean. "It doesn't happen unless I'm human." He drew in a breath and refocused, looked at Dean again. "Dean, I'm an angel. She's a human. We're not compatible. Please, understand this." Cas's expression was inscrutable. "Think about it, Dean. I don't feel things the way you feel them. I'm not human. I'm incapable of… that."
"Of what?"
Cas looked irritated that he had to spell it out. "Human romance. Love." His eyes faltered away. He sounded bleak. "Whatever you want to call it."
"...But when you lose your angel juice it's a different story," Dean stated darkly, a question without being a question.
"This is why it's more important than ever, Dean, that we find a way to stop Lucifer. To prevent that future from happening." The angel shook his head slowly, and to Dean, the angel looked his age momentarily—thousands of years old and so weary. "I don't want Sam to be taken by Lucifer," he said then paused, staring unblinkingly at the ground. "I don't want Alex to die." His voice had softened, but then he set his jaw unflinchingly, his voice lowering again. "I'll do whatever it takes to prevent these things."
There was a fierce and rigid resolve in Cas's demeanor and Dean let out a deep, disturbed breath, trying to figure out how to react. This situation, his assumptions, Alex, and this angel—every time Dean thought maybe he was making stuff up, something else happened that supported that creeping fear that Castiel and Alex were hurtling toward each other. Dean was distracted as hell in his own thoughts and world right now, but he had caught some weird moments between Cas and Alex today, and he wanted to believe Cas, that it was just some kind of weirdo guardian angel protector crap. After all, Cas was an awkward dude to begin with but—the way this guy looked at his sister... Dean just wasn't sure. Maybe it was that deep down, he didn't like anyone but himself and Sammy to be protective of her. He kind of felt like no one else had the right. Not after all Dean had been through to keep her safe throughout the years. Alex was his responsibility, and more than that, one of the only things left Dean loved in the world. Cas just wanted to swoop in and take her from him.
He eyed Cas carefully. Maybe it wasn't romantic for Cas, but Alex—that was a different story. Dean knew on instinct that she was majorly into Cas. Dammit, this wasn't good. It just bothered him at his deepest levels. However, for the moment, he decided, grudgingly, to play peacekeeper. "Yeah, good," he said absently. "Fine. We'll touch base with you tomorrow."
Cas looked confused. "I should stay and watch over you."
Wow, he thought he was being subtle, didn't he?
"Over me, Cas?" Dean asked conspiratorially. He felt a surge of possessiveness. "I'm her protector, Cas. Me." He stepped back, not dropping Cas's gaze. "Always have been. Always will be." It almost felt like he was laying claim to Alex in that moment. And she wasn't a piece of property like that, but Dean knew the only person in the world he trusted to keep her safe was himself. No one else. In response to his words, Cas looked confused as usual—the damn super-powered moron. "Conversation's over, Cas." Dean regarded Cas a second longer. "I'll let you know when you're needed."
And he turned, leaving Cas standing there. When Dean got to the door and glanced back, Castiel was gone.
Dean reentered the motel room to find Sam standing by the shut bathroom door, arms folded—he looked very unhappy.
"Oh, so you ran him off, too?" Sam asked, noticing Cas's absence.
Dean just gave him an impatient look. "What are you talking about?"
Equally impatient, Sam pinched the bridge of his nose then let it go, expelling a heavy breath before gesturing to the closed bathroom door. "You upset her."
Dean made a face. "I upset her? Was I the only one that saw the weird ass shit between them today?"
Oh definitely not—but Dean did not need to know what Sam had seen. Sam would figure that whole Cas and Alex looking like they were about to kiss thing later. Right now, he needed to get Dean to explain himself, to calm down. "Dean—" Sam began, then decided to restart. "Okay, look, that's beside the point. You gotta level with me, man. What is with you lately?"
Dean shot his brother a dangerous glare. "I told you before—screw off."
Sam got a little madder but stood his ground then approached his brother, controlling himself. He wasn't going to let his older brother push him around and set him off. "No, Dean, I want to talk about this."
Disgusted and cagey, Dean yanked his jacket down from where he'd hung it just a couple minutes ago. "Forget this, I'm going out."
"You just got back!" Sam protested. He didn't get a response—Dean slammed the door in Sam's face.
Sam spread his arms out in helpless frustration then ran a hand through his hair and circled back toward the shut bathroom door. Great, just great. Both of his siblings were refusing to talk to him.
Sam leaned against the wall and hung his head, scrubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand. She must be freaked. At the thought of being left alone in the world if the angels got their way with himself and Dean. She didn't deserve this—the constant hardship she was dragged through, the uncertainty of what tomorrow would bring. The Michael Lucifer thing hanging over her head like a storm cloud set to pour any day.
Sam had gone out into the world and made friends and acquaintances, but Dean and Alex—all they'd ever had was each other. If he and Dean died or disappeared, who would she have? It was a sad little world they lived in. Not many people would understand what the Winchesters went through, the things they fought... the dark things they carried.
Sam found himself thinking about the series of crayon drawings Alex had made. There had been three animals, and each of them represented one of the siblings—there was Bear (Sam), Lion (Dean), and Mouse (Alex). Bear and Lion had been huge animals with fierce claws and superhero capes. Alex had drawn Mouse as a tiny, cute, furry little creature with a machine gun and or a machete in the illustrations. Alex had drawn all these zany little adventures for the three of them, and at Bobby's somewhere, a bunch of them were in a box somewhere. Sam's heart swelled unexpectedly at the memory. He loved them both a lot. He really did. Maybe he wasn't good at it, but he loved them the best he could.
He looked toward the bathroom and into the wall at his side. She was probably sitting on the floor and staring into space. He knew she wanted to be left alone, but he really felt like she needed someone to talk to. Admittedly he was curious about what he'd seen back at the restaurant—that embrace between Cas and his sister—but he could wait on asking about that, he just wanted to make sure she was okay.
It was weird though, catching them like that, and had surprised him. Maybe Dean, who Sam had thought was being a little nutso before—maybe Dean was right about them. He pictured them together as a couple and thought about it hard. Maybe he was a sucker or something, but the thought of an angel and a human finding happiness together didn't seem as bad as Dean seemed to think it was.
Sam stopped, deciding that he shouldn't be thinking about this too hard—he might have misinterpreted what he'd seen, after all. Sam raised his hand, knocking lightly on the door. "Hey, Mouse?" he paused, listening. He hadn't called her that in forever… not for a couple years at least.
"Yeah?" she asked after a minute.
He paused, then settled on, "I'll be out here if you need me."
There was a long pause. Then a quiet reply that made him smile softly. "Okay, Bear." She did remember.
The Next Day
Castiel sat in Big Frank's Burger Hut, eating yet another burger. It was around dinner time, and he had been here all day in a booth surrounded by a growing amount of shiny silver wrappers. He dimly reflected on how strange this was. He had eaten perhaps forty of them in the past few hours and had no plans of stopping. They were the only thing that seemed to help. He swallowed slowly. It was interesting. The combination of ingredients seemed to meld perfectly—warm melty cheese, cool strips of shredded lettuce, the savory patty, the tang of some kind of sauce, the acid of thinly sliced onion, the dryness and softness of the bun, the slight crunch of the sesame seeds on top. It was quite enjoyable. He found that he liked how the differing textures and tastes came together and ceased to be separate as he chewed each bite, the teeth rendering the solid food into a different substance altogether.
Yesterday at the restaurant with the Winchesters, he'd begun to feel filled with an overwhelming desire to consume. And the food sitting in front of Alex had been a good distraction from that desire. Out of something desperation, he had grabbed that burger from her—needing to do something physically and not sure what, and then had realized the burger tasted good, which made his other thoughts simmer instead of rage at the forefront of his mind.
His other thoughts: Her.
He took another bite, trying to change his thoughts to anything but her. The constant flow of burgers was distracting him from the overwhelming thoughts of Alex. Last night he'd made himself vanish but had stayed close to Alex to watch over her until he realized he couldn't. The foreign desire had grown too intense for him to bear, so he'd been forced to separate himself.
There was some great danger over this town, he could feel it—and the great irony was that he needed to stay away from Alex, leaving her defenseless all because his vessel and his mind were working against him somehow. It must have something to do with what was happening here because... he had almost kissed her yesterday, not a single thought of 'no' or 'don't' entering his mind until Sam had appeared. This was troubling, perplexing, and he was uncertain. Greatly uncertain.
Cas paused, a burger in front of his mouth, but he stared over the top of it unseeingly, picturing Alex, wondering where she was and what she looked like, if she was thinking about him too... then he caught himself and quickly took another huge bite of burger, trying to focus on it instead. There was a heightened sense of alarm in the back of his mind as he wondered how much longer he could stay away from her and sit here and eat burgers, because he needed to be near her again. He wanted to be part of her, he wanted to breathe her into his lungs themselves.
Growing upset at his thoughts, Cas shoved more burger in.
He thought of what Dean had told him last night. 'I'm her protector, Cas. Me.' The angel felt a surge of helplessness. Right now, this was true. And Cas didn't want it to be. He was supposed to be her protector eternal.
Cas glanced over at the sound of steps—he saw a familiar pair of black boots walking up to his table. And… bare legs? He looked up, following the path of legs to knees, then he saw the pattern of flowers—then the familiar tousled brown hair and the pretty face and bright, shy, and indescribable eyes. "Hi Cas!" she said, grinning widely at him, looking delighted. "I was across the street shopping and I saw you!" She sounded very upbeat, more than usual. Not completely herself.
"Alex," he said, standing up quickly. Several wrappers fluttered to the floor like leaves off a tree. He'd noticed immediately what she was wearing, because it was different than anything he'd ever seen her in before. She was wearing her cargo jacket over a dress—floral print with a high waist and just-above-the-knee length… Cas stared at where her legs ended and the dress began. He was suddenly intensely worried and couldn't look at her, but he also needed to look at her, take in every detail, consume the sight of her if that's all he could have—the desire to do so was overwhelming, but he clenched his fists at his sides, staring at a linoleum tile on the ground, fighting hard against his rambling longings. "I need more burgers," he said urgently, sliding back into the booth and grabbing the last one on the tray.
She started to take a quick visual inventory of the wrappers. "Did you... eat all these?" She slid into the booth across from him and he almost smashed the burger completely in his hands. He glanced at her—accidentally—and couldn't tear his eyes away. "Since when did you eat, Cas? And so... much?" He noticed the freckles he loved scattered across her face, the wild hair, the way her eyes darted across the wrappers. He was entranced. He was sure that he could look at her for all eternity times a thousand. She looked up at him, waiting for an answer. He returned the gaze, intensely desiring to be closer to her, forgetting her question completely. She seemed to be drawn into his unblinking gaze, then she visibly made herself look away. "Something weird is happening," she said in a low, urgent, scared voice. "When I look at you, I get... I get stuck."
Similarly, Cas had looked away, his heart racing. She was right. What was happening to him—and why couldn't he control himself? It seemed to be easier when they didn't look each other in the eye—but why? "We... we just shouldn't look at each other," Cas said uneasily. He stared at the burger in his hands. In fact, he should leave right now, because he just wanted to toss the table aside and devour her in the most carnal and sinful of ways—
"Yeah, yeah, I think you're right," she said, but sounded disturbed. She got quiet for a minute. "How long do we have to… not look at each other? Is this permanent?"
Cas set his burger down, hands both resting loosely on the tabletop. He stared at the tray. "I don't know."
There were a few seconds of tense silence.
And then she slid her right hand across the table, towards his left hand. She stopped just short of touching him, and he risked a glance up at her—she looked deep in concentration, looking at their hands about to touch, like she was trying to hold herself back. He was responding in kind to the gesture before he could even have a second thought—he slid his hand out further, grasped hers gently. Her eyes flicked up to his, scared, unsure. "Cas…" she said, a question, a plea, a statement all at once. He couldn't look away from those eyes—his grip tightened on her hand—she drew him like magnet to magnet, and he was helpless, never wanting to be parted from her side, wanting to lessen the space between them, wanting to—
He flinched, shaking himself out of the trance, pulling his hand back, breathing hard in surprise. Alex looked similarly shaken up and put her elbow on the table, her head down and a hand over her eyes, so all she could see was the tabletop below her. "So the burgers, Cas? Why."
Cas looked down at the sea of silver wrappers on the table. "Yes, it's strange. I—it's the vessel. It seems to be starving." He paused. "Jimmy—he—liked these."
She was quiet a long moment. "You sound sad."
Cas looked up at her at that point, unsure how those words from her mouth could affect him so deeply, make him feel—there was a very loud gurgling sound nearby and they both looked over at the soda fountain—where a woman was drinking soda straight out of the fountain, clawing at the nozzle with her hands wildly. She looked like she was drowning herself in it almost, it was puddling around her feet and she was choking on it as she shoved her face further into the stream of fizzy liquid. Alex jumped up and darted over, pulling the woman away by the shoulders, saying, "Hey hey hey! Hey! Stop!"
The woman struggled for the soda fountain, trying to get back to it. "No! I need it, I need it!"
She broke Alex's grip and rushed back to what she'd been doing. Cas was right behind Alex—he'd followed her immediately, but he didn't know what to do—Alex apparently did though because she grabbed the woman again, hard, whirling her around with a grunt to punch her in the face, hard—the woman went cross-eyed and fell over sideways, unconscious. Alex winced, shaking her fist out. "Son of a bitch," she muttered.
Concerned, Cas turned her toward him even as he stepped around to face her and took her wounded hand in both of his. "Why did you do that?" he asked, looking at her hand, then at the woman on the floor, who was lying face-up in a puddle of soda.
Alex shrugged. "Saved her life, didn't it? Seemed like a good idea at the time..."
In his hands, her hand suddenly curled its fingers around the outer edge of his palm. They looked into each other's eyes at the exact same moment and Cas wanted so badly to kiss her, to shove her into the nearest wall and break her, have her, possess every part of her—
Alex yanked her hand back, regaining clarity, and when she did that, his returned momentarily, too. He took a step back, fearing that he was losing his mind.
Alex looked around the restaurant then at her shoes. "Cas, look around—something is happening to the people in this town—to us. I saw some people in the dress shop trying to kill each other over the bargain rack and there was this one guy I saw who was jamming like handfuls of cigarettes into his mouth on the side of the street. Now this—"
She was cut off by the sound of loud shouting to their left. The cashier was screaming into her phone behind the counter, bawling really. "Why, Jared?! You promised me! You don't love me! You promised you'd love me forever! Am I really that worthless?!" The girl began banging her head into the corner of the wall repeatedly, violently, hard enough that blood began to come out of her forehead where a wound rapidly was being made—and then Cas was suddenly standing behind the girl—he'd moved through space and wind swept through the restaurant—he touched her shoulder and she went slack, fainting. He looked questioningly at Alex, who had gone still, in shock at it all.
"Good, Cas, good," she said tensely, and looked around the restaurant with growing anxiety. "What is going on in this town? Should we just knock out everyone or what?"
"We should leave," Cas said, suddenly right beside her again. She jumped slightly. "This place seems unsafe."
"Holy crap!" Alex exclaimed, laying eyes on a couple two booths away—they'd thrown their food onto the floor and were climbing all over each other and were literally ripping off each other's clothes. She stared a second longer than took quick action. "We gotta go," Alex said—Cas had her by the sleeve of the jacket and was already half-pulling, half-guiding her out of the restaurant. Out on the street, it was chilly and overcast. "Cas, what is happening?" Cas had his hand on her back lightly as they walked, not even fully aware of himself. He was looking around constantly, searching for any sign of danger.
"Could a witch be behind all this?"
She slowed down, and he did too. "No, this is too much for a witch—perhaps it's—" he trailed off, looking at her. They had stopped walking and they were beside a long, blank brick wall. He looked at her up and down, forgetting what he'd been saying or doing. "You should wear dresses more often," he said, and leaned toward her, his hands grabbing her waist, and—
Her phone rang. Startled, they stopped. Cas looked at what he was doing and pulled away, flustered. He hadn't even thought, he'd just acted. He wasn't sure if he should stay with her. He didn't seem to have control anymore.
Unnerved, Alex pulled the phone out of her jacket pocket and answered, walking a couple steps off. Her cheeks were red. "Sam, hey." She paused. "What? A demon? Why?" Cas watched her closely, not letting her get even two steps away. He needed to be near her. "Yeah, okay." She ended the call and put her phone back into her pocket. "Sam said he ran into some demon guy with a briefcase and he thinks it has something to do with what's happening here in town."
Cas reached for her to transport them. "We should go there immediately."
"Don't touch me!" she exclaimed, shying away from his hand, not looking at him. "It's... just, uh, I can't, just, um, just don't." She sounded shaky. "Let's just walk. I wanna walk, okay?"
She turned around and began walking again. And that's when Cas saw the two demons in male vessels round a corner up ahead—he saw their true, abominable faces. His stomach rocketed upwards in alarm, and he was, without hesitation, drawing his angel blade and shooting forward, putting himself between Alex and the demons, shouting at her to "stay back!" even as he viciously stabbed the first one in the chest. The demon let loose a blood curdling scream as his skeleton flickered and he died.
The other demon turned and ran away—indicating they had not expected this fight, so what were they doing here? Cas didn't have time to consider, he was yanking his blade back out of the first demon's chest and then he flipped the blade smoothly in his hand so that he gripped the sharp end—he drew back and sent it torpedoing through the air where it plunged into the second demon, who screamed and fell down dead.
Instantly, Cas looked back at Alex, who was coming to him and grabbing his arm. "Are you all right?" He looked at her, vaguely out of breath—he tore his gaze away before the dangerous thoughts could begin.
"Demons," he said, and looked around, wary, vigilant.
"Why—?" Alex asked, her features wrinkling up in confusion.
"I don't know," he said. His voice deepened. "But we're not walking any more."
His blade flew to him, he grabbed her, and they disappeared off the street.
About an Hour Later
"This town is not suffering from some love-gone-wrong effect," he'd explained about an hour ago. "It's suffering from hunger. Starvation, to be exact—specifically… famine."
Cas's words rang in her mind, inspiring the following mantra: It's not you, it's Famine. It's not you, it's Famine. The four horsemen of the apocalypse Famine.
In the backseat of the Impala Alex was stone-faced, clenching her hands into fists. It was getting worse with every passing moment, she felt crazy. Yesterday had been bad enough, this afternoon (the impulse shopping? Twirling in front of the mirror and wondering what Cas would think of her dress?) had been worse, now this. She could barely think.
After getting attacked by the two demons, Cas had spirited them back to the motel room where Sam had just gotten back to with a mysterious briefcase. Dean had been waiting there for them and they opened the briefcase—which had contained a human soul. Cas had then seemed to have an 'ah-ha' moment, saying that the town was under Famine's curse, that Famine wanted the souls of these people and was killing them using gluttony, desire, starvation. It's not you, it's Famine.
In the backseat of the Impala, Alex was growing beyond restless. It had been bad enough when Cas had whisked her back to the motel. Like a caged animal, she'd paced the back of the motel room, barely able to hear what Sam, Dean, and Cas were discussing. Her thoughts were screaming at her, begging her to just let her look at Cas, just look at him, but when she did, she lost any semblance of brainpower in favor of increasingly frenzied, sexual thoughts. She'd catch herself and for a minute she'd be horrified at how out-of-control she felt, how possessed by the crazy hunger for the angel in the trench coat. A couple times she'd started to charge him then made up some story about her bladder at the weird looks.
She felt like she wasn't sure what was going on anymore. Alex was so, so, so preoccupied with Castiel and every passing minute she was less and less capable of hanging onto sanity. She was barely able to concentrate let alone form a coherent thought.
The Impala was pulling to a stop in front of a Biggerson's restaurant. "Demons," Dean said up front, looking at the men in suits out in front of the building. "Just like we thought." He paused, irritated. "Cas, you gonna stop stuffing your face with burgers for a minute? You remember the plan?"
Cas turned to Dean mid-chew. He'd been eating burgers constantly the past hour, more and more frustratedly... if it were possible to eat a food out of frustration. Alex tried to remember the plan, tried to think it through, anything but thoughts of him. The plan was to… Castiel—no to, cut off Famine's ring and break this spell and—god the curls behind his ears—shit—no, the plan—she tried, she really did, not to stare at Cas's profile from where she sat. He was staring into space, jaw clenched tightly, a burger hovering in front of his face, but his mouth was closed. God, his mouth—her hands were literally trembling now, she had to fight with herself to keep them still. Her hands trembled, ready to fly at him and tear at him. Her thoughts went from coherent to complete mush, yammering in her mind and howling at her to touch him, just touch him, you need him so much and just—touch him, Alex, take him!
Panicking, not remembering about the demons or the plan or anything, she shoved the door of the backseat open, tripping over her own feet, breathing heavily, not even noticing where she was going, just had—to—get—a—way—now or she was seriously going to rip the car apart to get to Cas.
She was aware that she was in a dark parking lot and stumbling in no general direction—then she saw that a man in a suit bearing down on her, his eyes black as night. She reached back to where her knife always rested in the belt loop of her jeans and—oh shit, she was wearing a dress, where was her knife?!
The demon went flying backwards into the side of the building, sending brick and rubble flying. Alex whirled and saw Cas striding toward her, his hand outstretched.
He didn't stop when he reached her, he grabbed Alex roughly by both arms of her jacket and took them away from there—she felt the slight head rush of moving through space. They were no longer in the parking lot, they were instead somewhere dim and cold. Shivering but clear-headed again, Alex looked around. "Where are we?"
It looked like a walk-in freezer—about five feet by five—and Cas looked around, aghast at his mistake. "Wrong place—the restaurant—I meant to take us away from here—it's… Famine… he's close, I can't seem to focus—I—" He started with surprise as Alex grabbed him by his lapels, trying to pull him to her. "What are you doing?" he asked, panicked, a hand against either of her shoulders to hold her back.
"I'm losing my mind," she said, similarly panicked, sounding less and less sure. "I need—" she said, her voice cracking as she visibly strained, trying to stop herself from saying it, but she couldn't, she was breathing hard like she'd been running for an hour, "you," she managed, the word full of emotion… and as soon as she'd said it, her expression grew darkly desirous. "Now," she said, voice lower and demanding. Cas felt his entire body flush over in a pleasant fever at those words and the look in her eyes—and he was suddenly fighting harder than he ever had before. He knew it was Famine. But was that truly all of it? He battled himself with every ounce of clarity he possessed. He couldn't let this happen, not here, not now, not under the spell of Famine. And yet he shook from the effort as he kept her at arm's length and found himself unable to even keep doing that.
With a soft sound of anxiety, his mind fell away, and Famine took over, leaving only brutal lust and gluttony singing in his veins. The wayward angel pulled her to crash against him as he claimed her waiting mouth with his—she made a relieved, wanton sound, her arms already wrapping around his neck and she grabbed a fistful of his hair, hard, slamming her body against his while making soft little sounds that set him over the edge. He pushed her against the cold metal shelf behind her, so fast and hard that some bottles fell and shattered around their feet. In response, she shoved him backwards aggressively—he slammed into the opposite shelf, knocking several boxes off and he stared at her in complete awe for the couple seconds that she broke the kiss. Like a wild animal she gripped his coat tight in both of her hands and yanked him to her, kissing him savagely, a strangled moan escaping from her mouth and into his. Another surge of heat flushed Cas, driving him to the point of insanity.
Out of control, Cas crushed her against him possessively, his strong arms wrapping around her hungrily even as they began to both pull at tear at each other's clothing. Her jacket came off first and Cas's hands ravenously dug into the warm, bare skin of her back as he pulled her hard against his body. Alex gasped—but it was a sound wrought with primal pleasure he'd never heard her make and Cas felt something in him break and he groaned throatily—he needed more, this wasn't enough—he grabbed frantically at the side of her thigh through her dress. He was desperate for something, but he wasn't sure what.
She was still pushing at his coat and jacket and he let her go for a second, yanking them off clumsily for her, straining himself to still kiss her the entire time—she caught his tie in her hand and pulled him deeper into a kiss where tongues stoked a growing fire. She made a frantic asshe seized the front of his shirt in both hands and ripped it open brutally, the buttons breaking off and skittering around on the metal floor, leaving his chest and torso bare. Getting more and more senseless every second, Cas grabbed her by the back of the neck, kissing her mouth bruisingly.
Frenzied, he whirled her around, slamming her into the front door of the freezer, a solid metal wall and she gasped again—Cas grabbed her roughly underneath each leg right behind each knee, lifting her up as she grabbing each side of his face in both hands. Her legs wrapped around him as he lifted her up and they remained lost in kissing deeply, wetly, and loudly. His hands slid up torturously, traveling from the hollows behind her knees to the bare backs of her legs, then the roundness of her behind. The sounds she made only made him strain harder and harder.
Cas was dimly aware that these things were coming to him at an alarmingly fast pace—including what he did next without even thinking. He rocked his hips into hers. A choked, primal sound escaped Alex and understanding that it pleased her, Cas had no choice but to grind into her again, pulling at her furiously, needing her closer, needing more of this pressure and sensation, more of her. Writhing against him, her body against his caused him to let out a low sound in the deepest part of his throat, almost like he was in pain, but he wasn't—not at all and he felt frustration overtaking him—it wasn't enough—
That thought stirred him out of the mania and he realized, stronger this time, that this was really happening, he couldn't control himself, he wasn't sure what would happen if he didn't stop this—with every ounce of willpower he possessed, he pulled back, just for a second, trying to save them. She hung hanging on to him for dear life as she tried to catch her breath. Her soft racing breaths hit his lips. With eyes heavy-lidded and lips soft and tantalizing, Cas was mesmerized by her like this, but beneath that, terror grew. Famine's spell would see them kill each other this way.
"I can't—I can't hold back—much longer—" Cas managed desperately, not even sure how to put it into words. He wanted to crush her underneath himself, demolish her, possess her in every way, destroy her. "I'll hurt you—" Cas insisted in rising terror, because he couldn't pull away anymore, he was barely holding himself back as it was. And Alex? She heard nothing he said, she was only attempting in vain to kiss him again, her eyes wild. He was stronger than her, physically anyway. But in that moment, she was his weakness, and he was no stronger than her. His willpower faded out underneath the noisy current of blinding desire and he found that he simply couldn't help himself. He let go and gave in, his desire intensifying a hundredfold. He had to have her, now. With renewed vigor, instinct took over, blinding him and driving him to absolute unquenchable lustful psychosis. He devoured her in a full-body kiss again, crashing them through the solid metal refrigerator door, completely breaking it off the hinges—but neither noticed, too busy barreling into the kitchen where Cas crashed them into a countertop, kissing Alex wildly and noisily.
Pots and pans clattered to the ground loudly even as Cas turned and threw Alex up into one of the empty corners, denting the plaster wall in the process, but neither seemed to notice, Cas was grabbing her animalistically, one hand on her ass and another up against her back, fingers dug hard into her skin and she had her head thrown back, noisily almost sobbing when he pressed himself against her. Her legs wrapped around him tightly as she fumbled with his shirt, no maybe his pants, breathing loud in his ear, then finding his mouth again, biting down hard on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Agonized with unsatisfied desire, Cas growled against her lips, a sound that started out low then changed into a higher pitched gasping sound as they moved against each other raggedly. Cas pushed at her dress, and Alex felt his fingers curl around the band of her underwear and brush against the skin beneath it—she whimpered at the fire of his touch—because that combined with the feeling of him against her there, right there even through their clothes was building up to unrecognizable orgasmic levels. A tortured sobbing sound escaped Alex's mouth and she grabbed onto his shoulders with both hands hard, convinced that in just a scant few more seconds she would shatter into a million pieces—
And then there was an exceptionally loud clattering noise somewhere behind them. Startled, Cas and Alex yanked apart and froze as a familiar and shocked voice uttered, "Holy SHIT."
