AN-FYI this chapter has been rewritten just like chapter one.
Sam leaned tiredly against the door of the Impala. It took some doing, but the witch was finally dead and he just had to wait for Dean to get back. He just hoped that his brother had an easier time that he had dealing with this mess. Luckily, Sam didn't have to wait long until Dean showed himself. The younger hunter scowled when spotting the extra weight his brother was carrying.
"Not now, Sammy." Dean huffed, pulling the backdoor to his baby open. "Too tired."
Sam huffed angrily. What in the actual fuck was Dean thinking? The younger man brushed his hands through his long hair as his brother pushed Cas' exhausted form into the backseat. This was bad. Dean knew better than to draw trouble to themselves. Telling a civilian about hunting would go down horribly, probably with a prison sentence attached to it. The hunter grumbled under his breath and started packing his weapons into the trunk of the Impala, his brother soon following behind.
"No Dean!" Sam yelled at the other man, "Just call 911 and let the EMT's handle him."
Dean rubbed a calloused hair through his short cropped hair and stood up against the other.
"No can do, Sammy. I promised I'd tell him the truth. Not just the watered down version we tell locals to scare them off."
"Have you even thought this out?" Sam argued. "Even if you tell him, he's not ready to live with it."
Dean grumbled under his breath and dug his keys out of his pocket. Fuck, it wasn't like he didn't already know what could happen. It was just every time he looked at the beaten down cop his heart lurched.
"Cas is—He'll understand." Dean murmured,"He has to."
Castiel gave a careful glance back at Sam from his position in the back of the classic car. He eyed the blood soaked blade that the taller man had tossed casually into the trunk. This wasn't FBI protocol and all this talk about witches? He didn't ponder on the blade for too long when the trunk closed and his worn looking "savior" leaned against it to face the man he knew as Agent Ferguson.
"I hope you're right, Dean." The man said solemnly. "Or else."
The two continued to argue after that. Castiel's eyes never left the taller man as he made his way to the passenger seat. It was only minutes later that the officer found himself being taken along for the ride to God knows where. At the moment, he couldn't really make himself care.
Dean shifted in the driver's seat. The trip back to the motel felt eons longer than it needed to be. His muscles cramped tighter than before. All the way from his shoulders down to his ass, he ached. All he wanted was some pain pills and a hot shower, but Sammy's pissed off bitch face would haunt him until he figured a way to fix this. He knew he couldn't just try to shrug this off like any other little thing. Sam wouldn't allow it. It was about fifteen minutes later when the Impala pulled into the broken down parking lot of a low rent motel. Almost immediately, Sam pulled himself from the passenger seat, bitch face in tow, only souring further when he glanced into the backseat at their guest. Dean felt almost offended at the glare the other man was giving. He followed his Sam's eyes to the back of his Baby and saw the dark haired man pressed up against the car window dead asleep.
Consciousness came slowly to Cas. The first thing he felt waking up was how stiff his body was and the sound of clicking laptop keys near him. He was grateful to the small comforts of the ratty mass he assumed was a pillow under his head, but something bothered him. That being what was wrapped around his wrists. The officer tugged gently on his restraints as he opened his eyes to look around his temporary 'home'.
"It's no use trying." A voice called out, the rhythmic clack of keys stopping.
"Who are you, really?" Cas asked his gaze zeroing in on the voice.
Sam rubbed his hand down his face and closed his laptop from his perch at the small motel table. He hoped Dean wouldn't be gone for long. It should be him telling this poor guy the truth.
"I'm Sam." He said offhandedly as if there wasn't a battered police officer handcuffed in their motel room. "You've already met Dean. We're not really FBI. We're hunters and Dean should be the one telling you this, not me."
Castiel's brow furrowed thinking back to Dean. The man who saved him from a super powered woman, Dean who saved him from the broken down shack he was put in, Dean who…raped him—put a gun to his face with the safety off—who has him now tied to a bed waiting for possibly his death.
"Hey, relax. Dean's just in the shower. You're going to be ok."
Castiel's blue eyes focused on Sam. His breath become uneven as a burning rage filled his chest. He didn't know whether he was going to have a panic attack or a screaming fit, but he felt like he was about to explode. Consequences be damned, he was going to say what he felt.
"Is 'hunter' a new coin term for serial killer or freelance rapist?" Cas shouted at the other man. "From what I see, you and your partner seem to enjoy both."
The composed look on Sam's face dropped as his features quickly turned ashen.
"Wha—Dean wouldn't—no."
Sam stepped away from the irate man and shook his head trying to make sense of the accusation. His brother would never do something like this. He couldn't. It was Dean after all. Sam made a move to argue, but was interrupted when he heard the squeak of the shower dials turn and water stop. Castiel almost wanted to be sorry for his outburst seeing how the man went from being a gentle giant into a hulking bear of a man after his claim. Stepping away from Cas, Sam stomped his way to the bathroom.
"DEAN!"
Dean jerked in surprise, tying a worn motel towel tightly around his waist. He made a move to open the closed door when it burst open the cheap wood bouncing off the wall startling him. The hunter stared at his brother in shock, trying to prepare himself for the worst.
"What's going on?" He asked, glancing around for what he could use as a weapon on short notice in case any more witches have found them. "Is Cas okay?"
Sam took a deep breath, fist clenched, and his fury at an all time high. He couldn't have.
"Did you—did you force yourself on him?"
For a second, Sam thought he was overreacting or Cas was a dirty cop. Just lying to save his ass, but as Dean's expression shifted from surprise to guilt Sam felt his insides chill.
"Y—yeah. The witches spell—"
Sam's fist hit hard across Dean's cheekbone, cutting off his explanation, the force knocking the older man back against the porcelain sink. That defiantly was going to leave a mark. Hands harshly clutched his shoulders bringing the hunter back to himself.
"Damn it! I had no choice, Sam!"
"There's always a choice!" Sam shouted back. "We're better than that. We're not scum!"
Dean clenched his teeth. He knew that. Sam was jumping to conclusions and he would too if the situation was reversed.
"I really had no choice. We were too far out from anyone else and that fucking spell was legit. It was fuck or die, man. It was either him, witch corpse, or you."
Sam pulled back, not entirely convinced. He knew his brother and he'd seen a lot of evil in his lifetime, but he just couldn't see his brother like that. He just couldn't imagine it.
"Fix this, Dean."Sam ordered as he turned to leave back into the motels living space. "I'm not covering for you."
Cas listened to the two argue loudly from his prone position on the motel bed. It was the same story Dean had given him before. Whatever they said had to be true or he was never going to be let go alive. Especially since he was a cop, it meant he was a high profile hostage. It'd be too dangerous to just release him scot free. During his musings, Sam stomped his way back into the room and sat himself back behind the laptop sitting on the motels tiny table. The large man's scowl held strong. He refused to look his way or acknowledge him. Sheer silence followed, making the officer uncomfortable. It was several minutes later when the creaking of the abused bathroom door was heard.
The older hunter stepped into the room, cautiously making his way to Castiel's bedside. The blue eyed man looked over him suspiciously and tried his best to scoot away as far as the cuffs would allow.
"Cool it, Cas." Dean said carefully, almost afraid to spook him, "No one is going to hurt you. Did you bump your head during the time you got your butt saved from that witch?"
Castiel was appalled. He had thought back critically at how he behaved during and after their relations, but other than feeling entirely foolish while he was too beat up and tired to think clearly, he knew what happened was still not right.
"You say witch like it absolves you from what you did."
Dean bit his lip at the officer's reply. This was so fucked up.
"You're right." He said simply, sitting himself on the bed next to the bound, glaring man. "I doesn't, but it was moral's or survival. It's harsh and I don't want you to ever think less of yourself for it. There's nothing I can do to make it right. I could apologize for the rest of my life and still be in the wrong.
The honesty of his words lessened the rage seeping into his every pore. Was this rehearsed?
"It seems your nap got your head back on straight and I can see why you'd be so tense after everything." He continued without missing a beat. "Just know that you were my first dude and I was telling the truth about wining and dining you. You seem like a great guy."
A loud cough pulled both men's attention to the side of the room where Sam sat, holding up a Smartphone buzzing loudly. Cas squinted and saw the name Gabriel flash brightly across the screen along with twenty-seven missed call notifications. He hadn't realized Sam had found his phone. He was afraid it had been lost when he was taken by Caroline. The hunter placed the device back onto the tabletop.
"Bad news." The hunter began, turning the laptop around.
The screen displayed a clear image of a fully uniformed Cas. The picture obviously from his private LAPD file.
"Seems like your friend here is officially a 'missing person'."
Headlights and flashing red and blue lights circled the old McKenzie property. Yellow tape and tarps were being brought out to cover the body of a young woman. Her head cut from her body. Gabe bypassed his fellow officers and took a peek inside the broken building a short ways away. Most everything looked like it should, all except for one thing. Carefully, the officer lifted up a dirty tan overcoat. The very one he was so familiar with that he'd bet money on who it belonged to. Gabe tucked the coat under his arm and pulled out his cell, dialing a number he knew from heart.
"Hey, little bro."Gabriel whispered, hiding the evidence away from the investigators eyes. "Call me back as soon as you get this."
Gabriel didn't linger at the scene. He got to his patrol car and left to search the city for clues. He ended up calling a dozen more times that night and even dropped by Cas' apartment only to find out by the cat lady next door said that he'd never seen him come back. Shit. This was going to be blasted all over the news after the serial killer story hits mainstream. He didn't look forward to writing a report for a missing LAPD agent, especially for Cas. Gabe refused to think something bad had happened to him. Hell, Gabe almost 'worked' during his shift because he was so stressed that his friend had never showed up. Michael had nearly shit his pants when he realized his reports not coming in on time. Gabe grabbed his phone again, hoping against hope that he would answer this time. The phone ringed and ringed until the voicemail picked up. The officer sighed tiredly.
"Fucking pick up the phone, Cassie." Gabriel said for the twelfth time since his calls started. "I will find you, I promise. Just be okay when I get there."
Gabe felt tears burn his eyes. He hoped he wasn't leaving messages for a dead man. He loved Castiel like a brother and even if he liked to screw around and tease him, he didn't want him dead. He needed to find info before someone kills him or worse. Resigning himself to a skill that is usually used only with a warrant, Gabe typed in Cas's phone number onto his tablet and linked up to the local cell towers. If he was going to start somewhere, it had to be while thinking like a criminal. He was just glad they hadn't thought to turn the phone off where it couldn't be tracked.
"You're not lying right?" Castiel mumbled as Dean unlocked the handcuffs around his wrist.
The hunter shook his head and tossed the cuffs and the key onto the mattress. He had to believe this was true. Sam, as he was introduced, even performed a small spell to prove magic was real, showed him old case files with videoed creatures, and gave him a rundown of old cases. It was so surreal. Tiny pieces of things he had seen before had finally started to click. Caroline was a punch to the face with this magic, but there was something that bothered him. He'd seen these tell before in the city, usually in groups where officers give odd reports or half garbled orders to dispatch. It was dismissed normally to static or interference, but it's clearer now.
"There's more….."Cas muttered as he rubbed his wrists. "I've seen them."
Sam opened his mouth to ask what he meant when the door to the motel room burst open, another uniformed officer stepping in, gun drawn.
"Gabe!"