July 6, 2014
"You're crazy! Hans Solo is so much cooler then Luke Skywalker!" Dean raved, looking down at where Cas was resting with his head on Dean's lap. Cas chuckled and leaned into the other man's fingers as they ran through his hair.
"Not a chance. Skywalker all the way." Dean scoffed and shook his head slowly. They'd been marathoning all of the Star Wars movies since the night before, celebrating the fact that Cas had the night off for the first time since the night at the saloon.
"I think you're misguided and must have been horrifically sheltered as a child. You're lucky I love you." Dean grumbled, but his mouth twisted into a smirk when he leaned down and kissed Cas softly.
"Hmm, lucky, huh?" Cas hummed, running his fingers along the back of Dean's neck and smiling up at him, the movie becoming white noise in the background.
"Yes. Lucky." He replied, his voice sounding far louder then it should have when it echoed back off the bare walls.
The house had been so quiet without Sam tromping around, since he'd decided to spend the night at Jess' the night before, that they'd decided they needed to watch something. Cas had made the comment that it was probably pathetic that they couldn't go one night without Sam without going stir crazy, but, hey, they were family. What was family for if not to be unhealthily attatched to?
Cas turned his head against Dean's stomach, inhaling the scents clinging to the soft cotton t-shirt. He smiled at the heavy scent of his laundry detergent and cologne mixed with the stinging scent of moonshine that had dripped onto the fabric from the still. The topic of going on a run had been pointedly avoided since the night that Dean had taken Cas to Thunder Road, though they'd spent hours sitting on the hood of the Impala, staring down the empty road and talking about the things that Dean had done.
Every time that Cas had thought about bringing up the subject, he just remembered the flash of pain in Dean's eyes the first time he'd asked, and the way his face had fallen when he talked about all the things he'd had to do in his life to protect Sammy, and to keep Sammy fed and clothed. Dean wasn't a moonshiner by choice, he'd done it out of necessity.
The three jobs he'd been working (waiting tables at the Roadhouse, bartending once he finished his waiting shift, and fixing up junkers at Bobby's) hadn't been been cutting it when Benny, some smooth-talker from the south, had approached him. He was closing down the Roadhouse when Benny had swaggered his way in and convinced Dean to take a run with him. The wad of cash he'd had in his pocket after was enough to convince him, and he hadn't turned back.
"When did Sam say he was coming home?" Cas whispered, his fingers falling to slip under the hem of Dean's shirt, sending a shiver through the other man. Dean smirked down at him, his arm wrapping around Cas' waist and flipping them so that Cas was pinned underneath him.
"He's staying at Jess' until after dinner. So we," Dean smirked, his mouth descending on Cas' neck. "Have the evening to ourselves." Cas nodded and reached down to tug the hem of Dean's shirt up, exposing his back while Dean's mouth continued its assault on his collarbone. Cas' thumbs had just made their way under Dean's pant leg when the front door burst open, causing them to spring into sitting positions.
"What the fuck?" Dean yelped, scrambling to his feet and turning to face the door. They were both shocked when Jess dashed through the doorway, her face red, her hair frazzled, and tears staining her cheeks.
"Jess?" Cas questioned, pushing past Dean and settling his hands on her shoulders, ducking to look her in the eye. She gave him a response that was nothing more then a choked sob. "Jess, honey, what's wrong? Where's Sam?" Cas tried his best to keep his voice even so he didn't freak her out, but the fact that Sam wasn't in tow behind her had his entire body thrumming with nervous energy.
"He's...they..." She vaguely pointed in the direction of the door. Cas was out the door and down the front steps, Dean following closely behind, before he could ask another question. He almost slipped in the slick mud as he rounded the front of Jess' car, but he thankfully recovered his footing. His heart stopped when he saw Sam's form slumped over in the backseat when he threw the door open, the metallic scent of blood hitting him in the face like a wall.
Sam's face was bloodied and bruised, his eye swollen so heavily that his eyebrow was nearly touching his cheekbone. From the way that his mouth hung open, Cas could see the bloody, pulpy gaps between his teeth where some had obviously been beaten out. His eyes were closed, but he was still groaning softly in his unconcious state. Cas also noted that his arms were curled around his torso defensively, so he assumed that there was damage under the bloodstained t-shirt as well.
"Sam?! Sammy?!" Dean roared from the other side of the car. He threw the opposite door open and crouched through the doorframe, watching as Cas felt the soft skin under the curve of Sam's jaw. He heaved a sigh of relief when he felt a pulse thumping under his fingers.
"Dean," Cas soothed, his eyes flitting up to meet Dean's wild gaze. "He's alive, but we need to get him to the hospital. Now. You take Jess in your car, I'll drive him in this one." Dean stared at Sam, his eyes unblinking. "DEAN!" Cas' deep, booming command seemed to shake him enough that he nodded and shuffled Jess into the Impala.
Cas sprinted to the cruiser and snagged the gumball siren from the passenger's seat before sliding into the driver's seat of Jess' sedan. He placed the gumball on the dashboard, flicking it on until the red light circled and tore out of the driveway, speeding to the hospital.
His free hand remained clenched around his cross necklace, whispered prayers falling from his lips and tears burning his throat, until the were loading Sammy onto a gurney in the emergency bay and he had an armful of panicked Dean Winchester. They watched as doctors hustled around him and he disappeared behind swinging doors in a flash of scrubs and medical terminology.
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It took an hour, and more cups of coffee then any one person should ever ingest in an hour's time to calm Jess enough to get any semblance of a sensical story from her. Dean was pacing the length of the waiting room anxiously, his hands fisted in his hair, while Cas perched on the chair next to Jess, his notepad in hand.
"Okay, Jess, I need you to tell me exactly what happened, think you can do that for me?" Jess nodded, snuffling loudly and wiping at her eyes.
"We were going down to the Roadhouse to get dinner." She started slowly, her voice hoarse from crying. "And we had just pulled in when these guys came up and started giving Sam a hard time. They asked him if he was Dean's little brother." Dean's head snapped towards her.
"Who was it, Jess?"
"I don't know their names, they didn't say. All they said was that 'Dean's boyfriend fucked with the wrong group of people when he killed Crowley'." She drew the back of her hand across her nose. "And, Sam was fine with that, he was trying to brush them off. He...he kept telling them that he had no idea what they were talking about, but they wouldn't let it go, they kept pushing him. They told him Cas was just a..." She paused, her gaze flicking between Cas and Dean and a blush creeping up her neck. When she spoke again, her voice was a whisper. "She said that 'he was just some stupid faggot'. That's what got Sam mad. He...he hit them, but there were a bunch of guys and they just...they wouldn't stop until the bartender chased them off. Then I didn't know what to do, I was just...I was so scared, but Sam said to get Dean."
Cas' jaw fell open and he stood, staggering out of the waiting room. He made it all the way to the bushes outside the sliding door before he doubled over, heaving everything he'd eaten that day in a splattered messing on the ground. He was still wracked with dry heaves when he felt Dean's palm between his shoulder blades.
"It's Crowley's crew." He whispered when he finally was able to regain control over his own digestive system. "I killed him, and they almost beat Sam to death for it. This...Dean, I did this."
"Cas, don't look at it like that. The doctor said that Sammy is looking like he'll pull through all of this. Now, I can't say that the crew will be as lucky when I get my hands on them." Dean snarled, his hands tightening. Cas wiped the sweat from his brow and straightened up on shaking legs.
"No," He shook his head. "You need to stay here. For Sammy. I'll take care of it. I know where Crowley was running his 'shine out of. When Sam wakes up, he's going to want to see you. He's going to need his brother. And Jess. He needs his family, Dean." Dean's brow furrowed.
"You're his family too, Cas." He whispered, reaching out to place his hand on Cas' shoulder, but Cas shrugged it off. He moved forward and tucked his hand into Dean's pocket, his hands closing around Baby's keys. Dean eyed him cautiously when he saw them clenched in Cas' fingers.
"If it weren't for me and my career, he wouldn't be in here in the first place. I shouldn't have drug you guys into this. I knew that and I ignored it because I was selfish! I'm not going to be selfish anymore, Dean." Cas snapped, starting to walk toward the parking lot before Dean could protest. "You'll need to take Jess' car to the house. She has the keys."
"If you do something stupid and the department finds out, you'll lose everything! I thought you were all about that 'what would Jesus do?' bullshit? You drug me to church every God damned week for months, and now you're just going to throw it all away?"
"God?" Cas spat, pausing and glancing over his shoulder. "Don't pull the God card with me, Dean. Where the fuck was he when they were beating the shit out of your brother?! How can you be so fucking cavalier about this whole situation?! They beat Sammy and you don't seem to give half a damn if they pay for it or not!"
"You think I don't care that my brother is laying on a gurney in there? 'Cause I do! The only job I've ever had was to take care of Sammy, and I haven't done that! I couldn't keep him safe, and that makes me feel like shit, but I also don't want you throwing your life away!"
"What does it matter?" Cas scoffed, a helpless, distorted laugh falling from his lips. Dean stared at him in disbelief for a few moments before raking his hands through his hair and shaking his head.
"It matters because we love you, Cas. Believe it or not."
"I've got to do this Dean. You're not going to stop me." Cas sighed, continuing towards the car, signaling that he was done with the conversation.
"Cas, c'mon! This isn't...you don't need to do this, Cas! He's my brother! Shouldn't I be the one that goes after these sons of bitches?!" Dean growled. Cas shook his head and continued walking, his fists balled at his sides as anger coursed through his veins like venom. "CAS! Hey! C'mon, we can fix this together!" Cas stopped and spun on his heel, his eyes flaming as he looked back across the parking lot.
"Dean, it's not broken!" He hesitated a moment before reaching up and wrapping his fingers around the cross on his neck. He gave it a swift tug, the chain snapping from around his neck, holding it in his palm for a moment before letting it fall to the tar. He had no need for faith in a God that would stand idly by and watch Sam get his ass kicked for a crime he hadn't even committed.
Cas stalked to the Imapala, threw it in drive and tore out of the parking lot. He did this, and it was time to show those bastards that no one fucked with his family.
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The dull pounding of adrenaline in the base of Cas' skull when he pulled into the parking lot of the delapitated house. His heart was pounding in his throat as he stepped out of the car, his boots crunching under his feet. His uniform shifted against his Kevlar that he'd stopped at the house to change into, because if he was going to storm a house, he was going to do it right.
He slammed the door to the Impala as a crack of dry lightning split across the cloud darkened sky. The thunder that followed was so loud that he was sure it shook the foundation of the house. The ground beneath him thumped with the electricity as he strode up the front steps and across the decaying porch.
The door crashed off its hinges easily when his boot connected with the center of the creaking wood. The edges of his vision flashed red and he strode into the house. He could hear the sounds of people scurrying around in the living room on the left side of the house.
"Come on out you sons of bitches." He snarled, his gravely voice echoing back at him off the walls. He waited half a second before moving into the living room. Three pairs of terrified eyes stared back at him. "Oh, so you're ballsy enough to jump a teenager in a parking lot, but you throw a grown man into the situation and all of a sudden you guys are crickets?" The men were quiet. Cas let out a low, sadistic sounding laugh and shook his head, leaning his hand on his empty gun holster. "Pathetic."
The smaller of the three men suddenly lunged forward, lowering his shoulder and attempting to pick Cas up off his feet. Cas' elbow connected with the nubs of his spine protruding between his shoulder blades, sending the man sprawling to the floor, squirming and gasping for air. He was watching the man writhe when he heard the shift of air behind him, and his hand shot out instinctively, his hand catching the bat mid-air.
"I don't think so, slugger. I'm too tired to play catch." He growled, tugging the bat from the man's hands and driving the end of it into his nose. The man howled in pain, dropping to his knees. "Now, I'm only going to ask once, who's bright idea was it to beat the hell out Sam?" The man in front of him pulled a hand away from his gushing nose bleed to point at the last of the three, who was cowering against the far wall.
Cas' knee connected with the man in front of him's temple, knocking him unconcious next to the first man before he advanced on the third. The man threw a valiant haymaker at Cas' head, which he easily dodged, and Cas cracked the bat on the outside of his knee. The man yelped and dropped to the floor, clutching his knee and scowling at Cas.
"You can't hit us, dumbass! You're a cop! That's police brutality!" He sneered at Cas from his position on the floor. Cas gave him a chuckle and reached up to his chest, unpinning his badge and tossing it on the small table near them. He rolled his sleeves up past his elbows and shook his head down at the other man.
"Not tonight." The man's eyes doubled in size as Cas' head tilted to the side, the broad, manic smile still plastered to his face. "We are gonna have so much fun."
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Dean was sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair in Sam's hospital room when Castiel found him again. His head was resting in his hands and the sound of his ragged breaths were the only other sound that he could hear over the sound of monitors whirring.
"Hello, Dean." He whispered. Dean's head snapped up and he was out of the chair in an instant, his arms wrapping around Cas' shoulders and pulling him into an embrace. Cas didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around Dean's waist, his face burying into the crook of Dean's neck. They stood like that for a long moment, their arms wrapped around each other, breathing each other in. "I'm sorry, Dean." Cas finally uttered into the fabric of Dean's t-shirt.
"I know, Cas, I know." Dean soothed, his hand coming up to run over Cas' short hair. When they finally pulled apart, Dean was shocked to find the state Cas was in. His uniform shirt hung open, revealing the white t-shirt that had been under his Kevlar, and was flecked with dried blood. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes were swollen and bloodshot. "Cas, what did you do?" He whispered, lifting Cas' bruised and bloodied knuckles to brush his lips over them.
"Kevin is taking the suspects into custody now. I," Cas paused, collecting his thoughts and giving Dean a miniscule smile. "I did what I had to do to defend myself." He glanced over to where Sam was sleeping soundly, though it didn't look like Sam. Not really. Under all the bruises, and cuts, and bandages, maybe. He had a large, white plaster dome over one of his eyes, and Cas looked back to Dean. "And to defend my family. I'm...God, Dean, I'm so sorry about everything I said earlier. I didn't mean that. I know that you wanted to go beat the hell out of those guys, but Sammy needed you here. I didn' t think that you didn't care."
"Cas, you don't have to apologize, we were both on edge. Shit happens. The docs say that Sammy is gonna pull through fine, he's still breathing, those bastards are behind bars, and that's what matters." Cas nodded and reached out to swipe away the tear that rolled down Dean's cheek.
"What's the damage?" He whispered, his eyes flicking over to Sam.
"Broke a bunch of ribs, broke his collarbones, his nose, knocked out a bunch of teeth, broke his wrist, and his...his eye. He can't..." Dean swallowed thickly. "He can't see, Cas. They beat him blind, Cas." Cas' hand closed over Dean's shoulder and pulled him back into an embrace. He felt the hot slide of Dean's tears over his neck before he spoke again. "He woke up a little while ago. He wanted to know where you were." Cas frowned and moved to take Sam's unbandaged hand in his own, reaching out to stroke his bangs off the teenager's forehead.
"I'm so sorry, Sammy." He whispered, sinking into the seat and pressing his head to Sam's hand. "We won't let them get away with this, we're gonna make sure they go to jail for a long time. I promise." He couldn't hold back the tears that started tracking through the dust and dried blood on his face. "I'll find some way to redeem myself to you guys, Dean." He said, turning to look at where Dean had moved to stand next to him.
"Yeah, well, lets just focus on making sure that Sam gets through this." Dean chuckled, brushing his hand over his hair. Cas closed his hand over Dean's wrist and made sure that he was looking at him fully.
"I mean it, Dean." Dean's face sobered and he nodded, reaching up and carding his fingers through Cas' hair.
"Okay, Cas. Okay." He nodded, settling into the plastic chair next to Cas. Cas laid his head on his shoulder, watching the steady rise and fall fo Sam's chest, and for the first time since he'd started Sunday school, he didn't know who he was supposed to thank, because he knew that God sure as hell wasn't listening anymore.