Show Me What You Look Like Without Skin
Castiel rolled over in the cool dark of night, his feet cold. Dean had stolen the blanket in the night and wrapped himself up like a burrito. Cas smiled into the darkness and tried to disentangle the other man without waking him. Eventually, he gave up and grabbed another blanket from Dean's closet and snuggled as close as he could.
Sharing a bed with Dean was easy.
That was untrue.
Sharing a bed with Dean was frustrating. Dean tended to wake angry if he wasn't expecting it, lashing out before even fully awake. He also stole the blankets or attached himself to Cas as if he had tentacles and suckers. The temperature was never to his liking, so he was constantly taking off and putting on layers. But Castiel loved it.
He loved every little not-snore that snuck out of Dean. He loved the way he talked in his sleep. He loved that he could soothe Dean down from a nightmare without him needing to wake. He loved that his feet were cold. Because it meant he was with Dean.
Castiel drifted back to sleep, warm and floating in that place between asleep and awake where all that existed was the feel of Dean's body next to him and the contentment in his heart. Here he didn't have to think about what he said or question what he felt. He didn't have bigger issues to consider other than the joy radiating around him. He fell blissfully into a deeper sleep, unconsciously dreaming, rejuvenating himself through rest only to be startled wide awake by the sound of a yell and Garth barking.
"Reverend Cas?"
Dean sat up and looked at him. Cas rubbed the confusion from his eyes and wiped his mouth. Did someone say his name?
Someone was knocking on the door.
"Reverend Cas?! Please!" The voice was familiar, young and sweet with a throbbing vein of fear twisting through it.
"Claire?" Cas jumped out of bed, not bothering to throw on a shirt, and ran out to the living room. Anything that would bring her here in the middle of the night had to be serious. His mind tried to sift through what could have happened that she would come to him instead of calling Charlie. He whipped the door open as bright lights pulled into the driveway.
Two girls tumbled into the living room at the same time Dean came out of the bedroom. Claire held the other girl tight; eyes lit up with fear and adrenaline. They both panted as if they'd been running. Had they run from Claire's house all the way here?
"What the fuck is going on?" Dean asked, flicking on the lights.
"It's...they tried to… I didn't know what else to do… I couldn't let them..." Claire held on to the second girl like her life depended on it and pointed out the still open door. They both had long hair hanging down in disarray, still wearing pajamas. Claire had on sneakers but the other girl's feet were bare, dirty, and probably bloody.
"Claire, stop. Breath. Tell me who is out there?" Castiel shut and locked the door, Garth continuing to growl at it. The big goof was a loveable giant, but Cas knew you wouldn't want to be caught on the wrong side of those gleaming white teeth.
Claire looked up at him through disheveled blonde hair, her blue eyes pleading. "I don't know, but they tried to take Max."
The girl with Claire shook, tears streaking her heavy eyeliner. She looked up at Cas but it didn't feel like she saw him. She was staring through to a memory, a horror she couldn't escape. Her white-blonde hair had a leaf stuck in it that Castiel wanted to remove but was too afraid he'd scare her even more.
"My parents, they said they'd fix me, they said they were going to send me away so I could be normal. I didn't think they'd do it. But then these men broke into my bedroom after I'd gone to bed and… they dragged me out of the house. I just took off running. I didn't know what to do, so I went to Claire's."
"It's easy to sneak in and out of my window," Claire shrugged.
"Please, don't let them take me." Max looked between Castiel and Dean, terrified. "Claire said you'd help. Please, help me. I don't want to go with them."
Castiel's face hardened the more Max talked. He stood so ramrod stiff you'd think he had an actual pole up his ass holding him that way. But his posture wasn't that he was uptight. It was that he recognized the look in the young girl's eye. He recognized the story she told. And he bore the scars that people like her parents and whoever these men are could inflict. "Max, did your parents want to send you away because you're gay?"
Dean sucked in a breath through his teeth.
Outside, the sounds of men's voices could be heard getting louder, the lights from their vehicle shining through the front windows—the room filled with the glare of their invasion, blazing white-hot and blinding everyone momentarily.
Max nodded, her tears picking up steam until she was choking on sobs.
Dean wrapped his arm around both of them and ushered them to sit on the couch, whispering something Castiel couldn't hear. He guided them to sit, his posture gentle and unassuming. Castiel couldn't imagine how he could radiate such positive support when all he wanted to do was rip someone apart for putting this girl through something so horrible.
He was too in his own thoughts, in his own memories, in the cruelty of a world gone insane with hatred and judgment. Images of Uriel kicking him in the ribs until they cracked and Enoch just standing by, watching a self-satisfied sneer on his face, flash through his mind. He remembers the heat of Isham's fist across his face. He strode over to Dean's chest and pulled out the double-barrel shotgun he'd seen in there.
"Stay here," he said, checking to make sure there were bullets loaded and not looking back before he stalked out the front door.
Castiel stood in the bright headlights, shirtless. His burns and scars on full display as he pulled upon all of Heaven's righteous fury. The fire that had once burned his skin came to life in his heart, burning him down to the bone, through muscle and soul, until he felt nothing but the rage of what he had suffered. When the minister had given him a holy water enema and then waited and watched as he was humiliated by emptying his bowels on the floor. When his mother had helped hold him down as Ishim scrubbed him clean with a wire brush until his skin was red and oozing blood.
His only thought was for such things to never happen again.
He pumped the shotgun with one hand and aimed it at the van parked in front of his home. "This is private property," he growled.
"Castiel, how good to see you," a familiar voice called and the headlights turned off. He blinked white spots out of his vision until he saw Michael standing before him.
Cas's stomach flipped. This Man of God was behind Max's fear.
"Leave, now," Castiel demanded, raising the gun in Michael's direction.
The charming minister raised his hands and smiled. "We have a signed custody agreement from Max's parents. We have a legal right to take her."
"You have no right to torture her."
"Now, Castiel, I wouldn't send her someplace like that. This is Gordon. He runs the center where Max will be staying. He can tell you all about it if that would make you feel better. But really, this really is none of your business. You aren't even a member of the community here and will be leaving soon, from what I hear. What difference does one sinner make?"
Castiel looked over to see another smiling man with all the warmth of a vampire.
"I'm done talking. We can discuss this tomorrow with my lawyer present and the girls' parents, but right now, you are trespassing."
"Castiel, can I call you Cas?" Gordon began and Castiel released a steady breath and shot the front windshield of the black van out, shattering the glass everywhere. The other men jumped but he stood steady, unwavering. He pumped the shotgun again, immediately ready to shoot a second time.
Michael raised his hands while Gordon's scowl deepened, transforming his face into something evil. Castiel knew that look, the disdain, the superiority. He looked like his brothers, like the elders, like every person who had beaten or spat on him, like his mother as she watched Ishim light the match that peeled away his flesh and turned his heart to ash.
Dean joined Cas, standing just behind him, another shotgun in his hand, Garth baring gleaming white teeth by his side. "You heard the man. You'd do best to leave."
Michael and Gordon traded looks and retreated.
"We'll be seeing you tomorrow, then." Michael sneared.
"You have my number," Cas deadpanned, keeping his gun trained on the van as they pulled out and drove away.
Castiel took a few beats before lowering the gun and letting his vision blur with unshed tears. In all the years he'd been alive, he'd never had someone to stand with him, to stand beside him as he fought just to be himself. He was thirty-two years old and he'd been alone every single day of it. Even the few friends he'd had didn't truly understand or accept him until Dean. When he turned, the vision of Dean in a ratty t-shirt and sweatpants, gun still raised as if unable to believe the threat was over. This man. This good man had been there for him without question. He had jumped into the fight to protect those who couldn't defend themselves because it was right.
A lump of emotion clogged Castiel's throat and he fought back tears. He only wished he could be as good to Dean as he deserved. He wished things could be easier.
Inside, the girls sat on the couch, a shaking crying mess. They wouldn't talk to Dean or move away from each other. Although Claire was in a better condition than Max, she shook with her arms around her friend.
Castiel handed Dean his gun to put away and focused his attention on their guests.
"Did I hear a gun? Did they shoot at us?" Max whispered.
"No, that was me. I shot their van."
"Badass," Claire looked up at him, eyes wide.
Castiel pursed his lips. "Claire, you should call your parents."
"No, Reverend Cas, they'll be so mad." she looked up at him and pleaded.
"Call and tell them you're here and that I'm helping you and a friend. If they want to talk to me, I'll be right here, but they'll feel better hearing directly from you that you're okay. You're both welcome to stay the night," he glanced at Dean, who nodded, "we can sort everything out in the morning. Right now, though, we don't need your parents to be upset and think you're missing."
Claire nodded and sniffed.
Castiel softened, sitting on the coffee table in front of the girls and looking at them closely for the first time. "You're safe here," he soothed, his low voice taking on his ministerial authority and the girls visibly relaxed. "Dean and I won't let anyone hurt you. Being gay is not wrong or sinful. It's going to be okay. There are more good people in this world than there are like those men, I promise, we'll do everything we can for you."
"Reverend Cas?" Claire stared at his chest with wide eyes and he remembered he was shirtless, burns and scars on full display.
He smiled softly. "We all have stories, Claire. Not all of them are happy, but we survive them by leaning on the people who love us."
She sniffed and nodded, whispering to Max before getting up to call her parents.
When she was gone, Castiel noticed Dean had put the guns away and left Garth outside to sleep on the porch. He had the kettle on and was heating water for tea.
He looked at Max, who returned his gaze and then snapped her eyes away like a caged animal, afraid of where the next hit might come from. "I'm sorry this happened to you." he placed a hand on her knee, patting it twice and pulling away, not wanting to frighten her further.
"Thank you. Claire said we could come here, but I wasn't sure. I mean, who would help me? I'm just a fuckup. I mean… uh… screw up."
Castiel reigned his chuckle in. Max swearing was the last thing he was worried about right now.
"Well, I'm glad you trusted her. Claire is a good person, and I'm sure you are too if you're friends."
Dean joined them, setting down mugs of tea. He kissed Castiel on the temple and Cas smiled bashfully. Once Castiel had put on a shirt and confirmed with Claire's parents that she was, in fact, where she said she was and there really was an emergency, they all sat down in the living room sipping their tea.
"What do we do now?" Claire finally asked.
Dean, who had been unusually quiet, spoke up. "I've already texted my brother. He works at a law firm downtown. He'll do whatever we have to so you're safe. And I called Jody Mills; she's the chief of police. She's put a patrol car on our house tonight to make sure they don't come back and she's going to come here in the morning to talk to you both to get the full story." He clutched his mug, his jaw ticking, "We won't let this go, or let you get hurt. I promise. You can stay here as long as you need to until we figure this out. Those fuckers are going to pay for this one way or another."
"I told you this was the right place to come," Claire said and smiled at Max softly.
After their tea, when everyone's nerves had settled down, they ushered the girls into Cas's room to sleep, either together in the twin bed or on the floor. Dean just threw a pile of blankets at them and wished them goodnight with a demand that the door stays open. It didn't seem sleeping would be a problem once the adrenaline wore off.
Dean and Castiel stayed up a little longer, snuggled in bed, their door open as well so they could hear anything that happened. Castiel collapsed into the mattress, exhausted. This night had been the stuff of Cas's literal nightmares. It was so comforting for him to believe that the evil he'd known didn't exist outside of his home, but to confront it here where he felt safe and accepted shook him to his core.
Back under the blankets with Dean beside him, his chest constricted as the fear of what happened finally hit him, the adrenaline wore off, and now he was just a scared unwanted boy again.
"Is Garth okay outside?" Cas whispered.
"Yeah, he knows he's on guard duty. He won't sleep." Dean laid close, their noses almost touching, but he didn't reach out. If he did, Cas was afraid he'd break and he needed to keep his shit together a little longer. He was determined to be for those girls what he never had.
"Good. I feel safer with him watching out for us."
"How about you? Are you okay? I've never seen you like that before." Dean pinched Cas's chin and tilted his head to look into his eyes. It was gentle but firm and relief spread through Cas's body. Dean was really there, solid and sure.
"I'm not sure I've ever been like that before," Castiel admitted, snuggling closer and wiggling his leg in between Dean's. He laid a hand on Dean's chest, trapping it between them, but he needed to feel the other man's heartbeat. Maybe his steady strength would calm his own erratic heart. "There was no way I was going to let them take that girl."
"I have to admit, it was pretty hot—all that righteous indignation and then shooting out their windshield. Holy shit. I can't believe you did that." Dean was smiling in the dark, his eyes sparkling. A warm laugh spread his breath across Castiel's face.
Castiel chuckled softly, "Me either."
"Didn't you fight back at home?" Dean asked, the words falling out and then his face showing instant regret.
"At first, but I was a child. And every time I did, it was promptly beaten out of me. Any fight I had in me died a long time ago." He shrugged. "It's different there. Here, no one has any real power over me."
"They don't there either. You could just stay here." a thread of pleading worked its way into Dean's voice. The silent with me in his words understood by them both.
Castiel sighed and shook his head. That heavy feeling of hopelessness settled over him. He had no choices in his life. He had no options. He just did the best he could and tonight, it was about those girls. Tomorrow he had to, as always, return to those he left behind.
"You don't understand. Where I come from, they don't just punish you for your sins. They punish those who help you, those who love you. When… One time, Ishim locked me in the crawl space under the house. He'd found me pretending to kiss one of the men in a magazine my mother had. They left me there for three days with no food, just a little water. Hannah would sneak me bread or whatever she could fit in her pockets."
"And they punished her," Dean finished for him.
"Yes, it's an effective tool for forcing compliance." Castiel rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. "Please don't think I want to leave you, Dean.
Dean rolled to his back as well and they laid side by side in silence until Dean's fingers worked their way under Cas's hand and squeezed.