(A/N: Okay, y'all, that last one was the darkest thing I've written yet. Like, ever. But one good turn deserves another, and here's the second half.

Set in s11e3, The Bad Seed. Didn't try to keep this one quite as close to the show, but still works as a deleted scene, I think, because before Cas gets out and they have to chase him down with Rowena in tow, he seemed very cleaned up and relaxed.)

Castiel's entire body strained in a violent spasm as he clenched his teeth and tried to ride it out.

He felt like an animal, the whole point of the spell, he knew.

He looked down at the chains tethering him to the floor. He was bound because he was a danger. He raised his eyes to his friends.

They hadn't chained him up in the dungeon like they should have. Didn't they understand the danger he posed to them? Yet here they had put him, in the library, with them, not on the floor, but in a chair, a possible weapon were he to throw it or break it into sharp pieces. They had both reached out to lift him from the floor when he fell.

Sam had apologized for keeping him chained. Dean had wrapped a blanket around him twice today.

While it was a close second, caring for him had taken precedence over their own safety.

He stared at them both with glazed eyes as Dean called the law enforcement department in Denver. His friends. They were trying to keep him comfortable, despite everything he was capable of.

Castiel's mind wandered to when they'd just gotten him into the bunker, his shirt ragged and bloody from the torture. He'd assured Dean the cuts had all been superficial, but Dean had insisted and opened his shirt, checking carefully with steady hands that each cut and stab were in fact closed.

He wished only too late that he'd blocked it from his mind. The feeling of Dean's hands on his skin. The sent of him close by. The growling came in waves again as he fought to keep control. Surely begging Dean to let him take him over the closest table was out of the question, even just asking, and especially with Sam in the room. The resulting questions alone would be too much.

"You would both be safer if I were locked away. I wouldn't mind, really." Castiel said quietly. "Somewhere quiet, I can try to rest."

Hanging up, Dean looked up, nodding. "Yeah, pretty clear this is taking a lot out of you. Sam, you want to get a list together, I'll go set him up?"

Sam nodded, "Sure, hand me that notepad."

Castiel watched as Dean left the room. That was a mistake. Denim had never looked as infinitely divine. At the same time, guilt spread through him.

Sam prattled about something as he wrote, switching between two pieces of paper. Something about basic instructions for Castiel.

After an eternity, using his coat and the blanket to mask his attempts to ease the pressure between his legs, Dean returned.

"You okay to walk, Cas?"

Castiel hesitated, wondering if human erections were capable of exploding. He didn't remember that ever having happened. "I think so."

"Not feeling particularly violent right now?" Dean asked, still keeping his distance.

"Not toward you, or Sam, and I do appreciate you both taking care of me. But... Metatron... who knows what he could be doing with my car..."

Dean nodded, stifling a smile, "That's a perfectly natural, normal reaction. Just try to stay focused on not hulking out."

Castiel nodded with a grimace, shifting uncomfortably as Dean... oh, Heavens, did he have to bend over to unfasten the chain from floor?...

Dean gathered up the chain in his arms. Sam looked up, "You got this?"

"Yeah." Dean answered, moving all the weight of the chain onto one arm, and gently helping Castiel to his feet with the other. "I'll be back in a minute."

Dean led him slowly through the halls to his own room. "I took a box full of weapons out, you won't be able to reach anything interesting. I wasn't sure if sleep was going to help, so I put some books on the nightstand, and... Cas? You still with me?"

"Fix the chain and go. Quickly." Castiel rasped out.

"Cas,-"

"Dean, please, I can't..." Castiel shook with a growl, wobbling on his feet.

Dean dropped the chain, unsure whether he should run, call for Sam, or try to talk Castiel down.

"It hurts... the closer you get, it hurts, but I still want you closer..." Castiel mumbled, nearly incoherent as he tried to sit on the bed, almost falling to the floor.

"Me?" Dean asked, catching him by the arms. "Is the spell... is it making you want to hurt me back?"

Dean lowered him gently to the side of the bed, leaning down, studying his face.

Castiel shook his head hard, taking a few deep breaths. "Never happened..."

"What never happened?" Dean asked, trying to piece it together.

"I am being overtaken by base animal instinct. Violence isn't the only one, and... although I have no need for hunger, either, I believe your proximity has..."

Dean met his gaze. "Oh... That thing that never happened..."

Castiel nodded, "The spell... it's basic biological response. But..."

Dean wiped some of the sweat from Castiel's brow, and the side of his face, not at all surprised when Castiel leaned into his hand closing his eyes. "God, this is torturing you... and it's all because I... Shit, there are so many ways this is my fault."

Dean grabbed the chain, fastening it quickly to liftable ring set in the floor and closing the lock. "I'm gonna be right back, I swear."

"Dean, no... please, I don't want to hurt you. I'm sure I can figure out... something to do about it. That's what humans do, right?"

Dean looked his friend over. "Right back. Promise."

Dean went straight back to the library. "Hey, you got that list made?"

"Yeah, just about."

"Well, I can't do this on an empty stomach, how about you go grab the stuff on the list and some lunch, and swing back this way? Cas has something bugging him from, I don't know, a year ago, and he needs to talk out, preferably before we leave. This'll save time."

"Leave you here, alone, with Cas... to talk it out? While he's trying really hard not to kill people?" Sam scoffed, "He could squash you like a bug, you get that, right?"

"Well, yeah, it sounds dumb if you say it like that, but, c'mon, man, this is Cas. If he's gonna try to not kill somebody, we're at the top of his no-kill list." Dean considered what he'd just said, "Okay, yeah, still sounds dumb. But I have to go with my gut on this one... I owe him this much, you know."

"You owe him a lot more than that." Sam mused, making Dean swallow uncomfortably, "Okay, I guess if you think you're safe enough with him strapped down, and he just wants to talk, then, I guess I should go get the stuff."

"Yeah, make sure you get everything, when we leave, I don't want to have to stop on the way there." Dean said, heading back down the hallway.

He could hear the echo as he reached his door, the sounds of the heavy bunker door closing. Quickly he ducked into the next room, shedding every weapon, lock pick, and even his belt into the same box as the items he'd taken from his room before stepping out into the hall.

Castiel looked up at him from his seat on the bed, still a mess.

"Sam's headed to town, so we have some time and some privacy." Dean said, closing the door and locking it, moving to get a washcloth from the sink and quickly running it under some hot water before wringing it out. He turned around to approach the bed carefully. "I'm going to get some of that blood off of you, okay?"

Dean knelt between Castiel's knees and loosened and removed Castiel's tie, tossing it onto his dresser, well out of reach, undoing the top buttons of the shirt and gathering what traces of blood he found.

Castiel did what he could to cooperate with his hands bound, but soon enough Dean could feel them reaching for him, unsure and unsteady. Watching Castiel's face, the angel seemed to act as though Dean would shove his hands away at any time. "You shouldn't be in here. It's not safe."

"You said you weren't feeling like you wanted to hurt me. I trust you to tell me the truth."

"Dean, you're more fragile than before, when..." Castiel trailed off, his hands moving across Dean's waist, one of them finding it's way under his shirt.

Dean unbuttoned the rest of the torn shirt, spreading the fabric wide, seeking any blood left on Castiel's skin. "It's my fault anyway. And if you wanted food, I'd get it for you. I can't help you with the violence part, but this part, it's on me, and I'm going to try to make this easier."

"The last time... I'm still not sure why that happened." Castiel said, a hint of strain building in his voice, ending in a quieted groan.

"You said it hurts. Where?" Dean asked quietly.

Castiel looked away, not wanting to meet his eye.

"It's the pressure, right? Counter pressure will help, so..." Dean set the washcloth down, moving the chain aside, pulling Castiel closer.

Castiel shivered and buried his face into the side of Dean's neck as Dean pulled his hips to the edge of the bed, pressing tight against him as Castiel gave a moan at the contact.

"Is this helping?" Dean asked quietly.

"Is it possible to be helping and making it worse at the same time?" Castiel asked, his lips and breath still tight to Dean's neck. Dean tried to ignore his nipples tightening in response.

"Uh, for this, yeah. Totally possible." Dean hoped he sounded reassuring. "So I guess we see if we can't take that.. instinct, and I guess give it what it wants."

Castiel stiffened as Dean reached for his belt. "Dean, wait!... There was... there was blood... there was blood and you... you screamed at me... you told me not to hurt you... I couldn't stop." Castiel said, ending in what sounded like a sob.

"Shit, that's all you remember? I was fine. That was probably the cruelest thing I ever did to anybody, Cas. I remember. I was fucking with you, a lot more than literally... Hey..." Dean turned Castiel's face to look at him, "I'm not a demon, and I am not going to do that again. Okay? Please, trust me."

Dean felt the hand inside his shirt relax as the other moved closer to his neck, both inhibited by the cuffs. He leaned in, closing the few inches between them, wrapping Castiel firmly in his arms, pressing a gentle, welcoming kiss to his lips. He submitted easily as Castiel relaxed, moaning quietly in the back of his throat and claiming his mouth with desperate hunger. Dean tried again to reach for his belt, this time receiving no objection. Castiel panted as Dean brought his zipper down, relieving him only slightly.

Castiel moved his arms awkwardly, trying not to break the kiss. Because of the cuffs, Dean didn't realize until too late that Castiel was trying to remove his clothes. The rip of the shirt was quite audible, and echoed slightly in the room.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Castiel looked shaken by the sight of pieces of Dean's clothing in shreds in his hands.

"That was really hot."

"It was?"

"Yeah, but don't make a habit of it, okay? Just this once."

"I can fix it." Castiel said quietly.

Dean stripped the shredded shirts from his torso, shaking his head and shoving them under the bed, "Don't worry about it."

Dean got up, taking something from the top drawer of his dresser, quickly coming back to the bed. He kicked out of his boots and ditched his jeans and socks right away. In moments he was back on his knees, stroking his hands up Castiel's thighs.

In one fast movement that startled him, Castiel brought the cuffs down behind his back, pulling him tight against him, dragging his tongue along Dean's collarbone. "Woah, Cas, that's... slow down a little."

Castiel didn't seem to hear him, curling forward, pressing hard into Dean's stomach, and moving his mouth up the man's neck. Dean considered how much control he should take, and whether it was possible, and was that...? Yes. Yes, that was teeth.

"Cas! C'mon, Sam's gonna see that, knock it off." Dean said firmly, tangling a hand in Castiel's hair, dragging him down to his shoulder, "Under the clothes is fine."

Dean gasped as Castiel's teeth sank in, harder this time, and accompanied by a groan and thrust. He slid his hands up Castiel's back, which only seemed to encourage him, before bringing them back down, slipping one into the angel's boxers to touch him gently.

As Castiel pulled back in surprise, Dean kissed him again, slowly working his fingers along the side of his length, letting him moan into his mouth, "Dean, please..."

"Lay down."

Castiel's brow furrowed, and he made to protest, but Dean's hands softly guided him back onto the bed, pulling his slacks and boxers down his legs, perfectly aware of the cold metal chain that came up to rest down his back, Castiel's hands finding his shoulders.

Dean ran his hands down Castiel's chest, splaying his fingers over the soft flesh of the angel's stomach as he closed his mouth around Castiel's aching arousal.

"Dean!" Castiel ground out, strained, as Dean's mouth sank down around him.

Dean kept him distracted as he reached for lube, and slipped off his boxers. If Castiel's moans were any indication, he had no idea what actions passed between Dean's hands just below his own navel.

Continuing his motions, Castiel's hands swarming his face and neck, Dean reached back and entered himself, stretching carefully and thoroughly. Castiel's look of worry when he mentioned the blood, the fear in his eyes in the faded memory as Dean screamed, both weighing heavily on Dean's mind.

Dean was finally completely certain he was ready. He'd only been with the occasional woman in the past year, and it had taken him some time, but he was sure. He pulled away, finding a look of confusion and desperation on Castiel's face as he coated him with the lube. "Okay, I'm all set, it's going to go easy this time."

Castiel gave him the strangest look as he climbed up onto the bed, straddling Castiel's body, the chain falling around his hips. "Dean, please, don't let me hurt you."

"You won't. And you didn't. Demons fuck with people, I swear, I was okay."

"I healed you while you were unconscious."

"I remember it, Cas. I promise, you didn-"

Castiel cringed, "You screamed."

Dean leaned down, kissing him softly, causing friction between both their hardened, tender bodies, making each one shiver at the sparks of internal electricity they felt. "I'm gonna fix this. I swear."

Dean reached below his leg and held Castiel still, letting him slip inside, carefully adding a tiny bit of motion as he took him in deeper.

Castiel grasped Dean's sides, whimpering as he moved, "Dean, please... please don't let me..."

Dean groaned as he found a good angle for himself.

"Dean?..." Castiel panted, shaking slightly.

Dean dropped forward, kissing him again, moaning deeply, putting his palms on the sides of Castiel's neck, working his fingers into the angel's hair behind his ears, whispering, letting his lips brush against Castiel's with each word. "Can you keep a secret?"

Castiel nodded, confused and conflicted as Dean moaned again, picking up speed as he rode him harder, "I wasn't going to tell you... I didn't want to make things weird... felt so good... even though I said it never happened... I got off on it a bunch of times... still fun to think about... even last week-, Holy crap... hmnCas..."

His hips rocking up into Dean, likely of their own volition, Castiel tried to force his hands to find a better perch, but only wound up in some sort of confused dance, "No... you... the blood, Dean..."

"I made you hurt me... Never again... ohhh, god... This feels even better..."

Castiel twisted in place, giving Dean a brief flash of alarm as it brought back to the forefront of his mind that the creature below him outgunned him on his weakest day, and was still suffering a curse.

Castiel sat bolt upright, bringing his arms around Dean impossibly tight, and continuing his path forward, landing on his knees on the floor with feral sounds coming from deep in his throat.

Dean struggled on instinct, trying to keep his balance, as Castiel came down on top of him, hands still chained below Dean's back, thrusting hard, moaning deeply. "Dean, I'm sorry... so sorry... you should have left me in here..."

"It's okay... I'm okay... ohhhhh, more... keep going, Cas..." Dean breathed in his ear.

Castiel shook his head against Dean's shoulder, "I'm hurting you."

"No, you're not.. feels good..."

Castiel was picking up speed with a growl, "Don't lie... "

"Mmm... not lying..." Dean said, gathering every brain cell he had left. Why would Castiel think...? Because of last time.

Dean squirmed, trying to take him in deeper, but the gentle friction on his dick was nearly unbearable, "Cas, please... don't stop..."

Castiel's mouth found his neck again. Somewhere in there, among the teeth, lips, and tongue, he was repeating his apologies, and mindlessly still pleading with Dean not to allow him to cause Dean harm.

It dawned on Dean that no amount of pleasured moaning, or begging to take his cock harder would convince Castiel that he wasn't torturing Dean. Not after the way he'd traumatized the poor guy last time. He may have ruined sex for Castiel completely, which would have been right up his alley, considering the only reason they'd engaged each other in the first place had been his threat against his own brother.

Below his own pleasured sounds, he could hear a change in Castiel's repeated words, "Dean... I'm sorry... nearly over... Dean.. please.. please don't scream..."

Dean adjusted the angle with which he received Castiel, working his hands into the angel's hair again, moaning and rocking, "Cas... mmmperfect... feels perfect..."

Dean felt it building, writhing deep within him as Castiel filled him repeatedly, his thrusts becoming sloppy and frantic, his own voice unrecognizable.

Finally with some clenching of teeth and variations of swearing, and Castiel's name, and the words 'more,' and 'fuck me' were certainly in there, Dean let go as the fire within him spread, his hot come coating his stomach where Castiel's body had pinned him, dragging against him with every stroke.

Castiel slipped out of Dean, grabbing him tightly, collapsing, shaking on top of him as something hot sprayed against his body. Dean adjusted his arms around Castiel tenderly, still breathing hard. "I'm on your arms."

"Dean..."

Dean kissed him softly, "That felt great."

"Dean, are you hurt?"

"No... Why'd you pull out?"

Castiel looked away, shame written on his features.

Dean reached under the bed, grabbing the shredded shirts, wiping at his stomach, "You can't knock a guy up, you could have stayed inside."

"I-... Dean... did you mean it?"

"What?" Dean asked, his body trying to insist that every part of him was limp now, not just... "About staying in? Yeah."

"No, the other..."

Dean looked him directly in the eyes, "I'm not hurt. There's no blood, no pain, and if we're not careful, I'm gonna develop a fetish for trench coats."

Dean tugged at the closest fold of the fabric that hadn't been shed, as Castiel's hands were still bound.

"No, Dean, when you said... you said that... did you mean..."

Dean thought hard. He knew better. He'd said many things in bed over the years, but the L word was strictly off-limits, and reserved only for close family members, and then as indirectly as possible, otherwise it wasn't even part of his vocabulary. Had he said it? Would Castiel understand the concept? Could he play it off as 'as a friend?'

"What did I say?... Sorry, I was really out of it."

Castiel looked like he was about to turn red, "You said... you said that my dick was a blessing to you from God. Then you said.. holy fuck, and then you..." for lack of words, Castiel looked pointedly toward Dean's stomach.

"Did I mean it?... Every filthy, blasphemous word." Dean said softly.

He considered Castiel's face. Far more relaxed, he wondered if he'd bought them some time. He delicately shifted both of them, untangling from the chains, and doing what he could to sort out Castiel's clothing. Castiel had relaxed enough he was able to repair his white dress shirt, removing the blood stains.

Dean insisted on carefully putting his tie back on himself, leaving Castiel's usual degree of loose. "So, you feel better now? Want to stay in here, or back out to the library?"

Castiel looked at the door. "I want my car back, so I suppose the library would be the best option."

The entire drive to Denver, Castiel's words echoed in Dean's mind.

It had been a year ago. As far as he was aware, it had been Castiel's second time, ever. And he, demon though he had been, he was determined to break Castiel. Worse, it appeared he'd succeeded.

He distinctly remembered his plan, waiting, watching carefully, getting Castiel to the point he couldn't stop.

"You gonna go limp if I cry?"

Dean clenched the steering wheel, the sound of his own sick laughter ringing in his ears.

Out of the corner of his eye he glanced at Sam. Big mistake. Sam was the whole reason. He felt sick.

"Nobody's getting out of this without a few scars."

In saving Sam, Castiel had submitted himself for torture.

"You, the real you, are a decent person."

There was nothing decent about what he'd done.

"I'm hurting you... Please don't scream..."

Dean set his jaw tightly. He had done a lot of damage, and it was going to take a lot to put it right.

"I'm going to fix this, I swear."