AN: Look at how quick I got this up! I braved a scolding from an asshole teacher and wrote during my free period today. So what I should have been working on my research paper? This is so much more fun.
"We've lost Dean again," Castiel sobbed tearlessly into the phone.
"Wh-what?" Sam stuttered. He couldn't have heard right. No. Castiel had greeted him with the usual custom. He hadn't just said that-
"Dean has-" Castiel choked, and had to start over. "Beelzebub is in control again. And he's saying things, and, and doing things... He's using Dean to," he was forced to pause for breath between his quiet, barely-controlled sobs, "manipulate me again."
Instantly Gabriel took the phone from Sam, who was too shocked to move anyway. "Does he know who you're talking to?" the archangel asked stiffly. He had to be sure the group was safe before he comforted his brother, even if he seemed like an asshole for it.
"No," Castiel sniffled, trying to follows his older brother's lead and force down his emotions. He was a celestial being, an angel of the Lord! He shouldn't have emotions anyway. All of this was Dean's fault. Dean and his stupid human fragility.
But, Castiel knew that wasn't true, which made controlling himself all the harder.
"I'm so sorry, Cassie," Gabriel murmured, immediately dropping his rough disposition. "You know it's not Dean. Just ignore everything he does to you. It's not him. Dean would never, ever do anything like this to you, and you know it."
It was good advice for Beelzebub's older tactics that Gabriel assumed were being used again now; however, things had changed. Castiel had been so hopeful, so excited, and so aroused by everything Dean was saying and considering tonight. The last three days in the car, trying to out-drive each plague was murder. Dean had been on the border of constantly angry, obsessively insecure, and somewhat sweet the entire time. The angel could never gauge a good reading of his partner, but tonight... It had seemed so like Dean! How could he have been so stupid? Castiel growled at his own incompetence as he thought over everything Dean said in the hotel room. All the signs had been there: the fact that Dean initiated a 'chick flick' moment in the first place, how he ran his hands through his hair instead of across his face...
But it took that stupid kiss for Castiel to figure it out. He knew it was a hazardous move in the first place, but he had to try. Dean had seemed so loving, but it had only been Beelzebub pretending. Castiel had let his hopes too high, and he fell further than anticipated.
"Cassie?" Gabriel asked. "Castiel?"
The long silence worried both angels on the other side of the conversation. Balthazar took the phone from the flummoxed Gabriel and asked cautiously, "Cassie, what exactly has Beelzebub done?"
"He-" Castiel answered immediately but stopped just as quickly, concerned about how it would sound. He kissed me would only make them all laugh.
"Castiel," Balthazar tried again, "did he show you excessive affection?" The other angel chose his words very carefully.
Castiel appreciated that wording. "Yes," his scratchy voice said gratefully.
"Did he kiss you?" Balthazar asked next.
Castiel did not appreciate this question. "I... kissed him... first… I think," Castiel said slowly. "He responded with vigor."
"With vigor?" Balthazar repeated. "Haha, that might just have been Dean after all. How do you know it's not?"
"His mannerisms were all wrong, and he... tasted like Meg. He did not taste like Meg the first time."
"The first time?" Balthazar squeaked. "What first time?" Gabriel wanted to add a question, but restrained himself in respect for Castiel's current state.
The angel's voice lapsed into a detached monotone and his eyes glazed over, sightlessly seeing the Impala parked across the lot. His eyes stopped leaking – he hadn't noticed when they started to – and he took a deep breath to clear his nose.
Clearing his throat, he explained, "When I got him back I had to kiss him to elicit his focus. In the situation Dean would only have responded to physical or affectionate advances and due to Beelzebub's constant onslaught of torture, physical advances worked only to further the deterioration of Dean's body. I was forced to use a sensual advance which he enthusiastically responded to and which worked rather quickly. This time, however, the sensual advance was brought on by a conversation about Dean and my relationship to prevent what he called awkward silences. I realized that Dean was no longer in control of his body because the kiss tasted greatly of sulfur and left my anal cavities rather dry. In contrast, the first sensual advance was quite pleasurable and tasted only slightly of sulfur because Beelzebub was at bay."
When Castiel concluded his speech, Sam rolled his eyes and breathed heavily. After a moment, he decided it was best to simply walk out of the room, so he retreated to the bathroom. Gabriel watched him go with a mixture of pity and mirth. The poor kid had just heard a review of his brother's kissing ability. More seriously, he had just learned his brother was officially losing the impossible battle. Gabriel empathized with the kid, but at the same time, he had his own concerns. Briefly, he wondered if angel-demon interactions would hurt Castiel. Balthazar could only laugh at Sam's fleeing figure. He had the same worries as Gabriel, and perhaps more due to his immense concern for his best friend's state of mind. However, the younger angel could not process all of these problems at once, so he focused on a source of stress relief for the moment.
When Castiel heard Balthazar, he snapped. With enough sense to fly away from the motel so that Beelzebub did not hear him, he shouted into Dean's cell phone, "HOW DARE YOU FIND HUMOR IN THIS SITUATION."
Balthazar sobered immediately, and both angels recoiled from Sam's cell phone in fright. It fell to the floor, but Castiel's wrath could still be heard clearly.
"HOW DARE YOU FIND HUMOR IN THIS!" he screamed again. "A man's life is in peril, and you're laughing? Dean's body is breaking down; I doubt it can hold Beelzebub much longer! And only our Father knows what his mental state is at this moment. For all we know, he has already given up due to how heavily he blames himself!
"There is also in no small part the effect Beelzebub has had on my myself and Sam! We have been suffering a great mental strain not only worrying about Dean but also configuring a way to end this mayhem! What have you been doing, Balthazar? Gabriel has been attempting to help, but what have you done? He's trying to think of something to use against Beelzebub, but all you do is disappear for lengths of time to peruse your secret stash of Heaven's stolen arsenal! Why can't you just let Gabriel look through it as well? He knows the plagues better than you do. He could recognize a helpful weapon faster than you. He's more of a help than you!
"If, by any miracle, we manage to survive Beelzebub's master plan, you will owe us all huge debts," Castiel swore to conclude his tirade. He was panting heavily from the exertion of shouting and gripping the phone much too tightly. The tiny electronic device almost crumbled apart in his hand. As he stood motionlessly in the center of a silent park, he attempted to steady his pulse. A light breeze whipped the low hanging branches of nearby trees, and several leaves shook loose to circle the out-of-place angel lazily.
No one on the other end of the conversation made any noise either. They dared not even breathe. Drawn out by the scratchy sound of Castiel's enraged voice blaring through the phone, Sam stood half in the bathroom, leaning through a crack in the door with wide eyes and a gaping jaw. Gabriel stood with his gaze trained on the phone that was still on the floor. His jaw practically unhinged itself; it was hanging open so wide. He was taking in just enough air through his nose and trying his hardest not to even glance over at the younger angel beside him. By no means was he comfortable anymore. After Sam's plan had been considered and developed, he and Balthazar had begun to cooperate with each other more. The younger angel was still remote and vitriolic, but he was compromising and friendlier now. However, he still refused to tell Gabriel any more than absolutely necessary, and he let Gabriel near his secret stash under no circumstances.
Balthazar was standing as still and straight as a flagpole. His face was deathly white as if god himself had descended the clouds to reprimand him. The foot soldier with wings stared silently at the phone with his jaw clenched until he finally reached down to retrieve it and hand it off the Sam. The man looked at the phone bewildered, afraid to meet Balthazar's eyes. In a very low, subdued voice, the angel told Sam to strategize with Castiel until he calmed down. Then, he pivoted on his heels in a curt motion, latched onto Gabriel's shoulder, and flew off with the older angel. The harsh beat of wings was heard while they disappeared, and two feathers floated gently to the floor as a result.
Cautiously, Sam creaked the bathroom door open enough to walk through and glanced around the vacated room. He stopped to pick up the feathers and wondered whose they were. Gabriel had been caught by surprise; they could've fallen off his indignant wings, but Balthazar had flapped his wings so angrily that they could have more easily fallen from his. No matter whose they were, Sam had to admit they were beautiful. The body of the feathers was royal blue, the stalk ever darker, with gold highlights, similar to human hair, and a brilliant gold quill nib. When he twirled them between his fingers in the light, they shone like stained glass.
Sam could hear Castiel's tirade and labored breathing even with the phone clutched loosely at his side. He knew he had to, but the younger Winchester really did not want to continue talking to Castiel after hearing that affirmation of his desired relationship with his brother. This wasn't the first time Sam had seen chemistry between his brother and the angel, but it was the first time he was directly presented with it. Sam thought Dean's desperate ventures to suppress his feelings for Castiel were adorable. His older brother had it bad for the angel, and the whole world could see it except that angel. At the same time, Sam had always suspected Castiel returned Dean's feelings but was too clueless to understand that himself or to physically manifest it. In any case, Sam only wished the two would talk to each other about their obvious feelings, but he knew that where Dean Winchester was involved, any situation remotely resembling a "chick flick" was avoided at all costs.
Reluctantly, Sam placed the feathers gently on the motel desk and returned his attention to the phone in his hand. He needed to hear what happened to his brother, both for his plan and his peace of mind, so he finally raised the phone to his ear again when he heard complete silence on the other end. The screen of his own phone assured him that Castiel had not hung up, so he gingerly sought Castiel's attention again.
"Yes, Sam," Castiel answered, "I'm still here." He hesitated a moment before adding, "And I am sorry for my outburst."
"Yeah, Cas," Sam waved his hand as if physically swatting the problem away, "it's fine. I can't say that Balthazar deserved all of that, but he needed the reality check."
"Where is he now? I would like to apologize to him."
"He, uh, took off. Gave me the phone, grabbed Gabe, and flew somewhere. He flapped so hard he actually shed. At least, I think it was him."
"What color are the feathers?" Castiel inquired curiously. "And how many fell?"
"Uh, two blue and gold feathers. They're really nice actually. Are yours anything like them?" Sam knew he was wasting time with pointless small talk, but he was one part honestly curious and two parts avoiding other subjects.
Castiel paused thoughtfully, and when he answered, he sounded a combination angry and dejected. "Yes, those are Balthazar's then." He sighed heavily. "Gabriel's wings are a shocking green. Although it does not bode well for my future apology, I am quite relieved that the ones which fell are not his. If I am frank, Gabriel's wings never healed properly after Michael's torture. And, no, they are nothing like mine. I am quite envious of Balthazar's wings, actually. I possess a pair of very light blue wings which appear rather like stone in most circumstances. I am also afraid that some of my feathers have been permanently singed black or scarred by my journeys through Hell and by my near-fall."
Sam was silent, once again awed by Gabriel's hardships and Castiel's stories and knowledge. Hearing of the different types of wings sparked an intense curiosity within him. He also wanted to know what Castiel meant by the foreboding apology, but he figured he should ask one thing at a time, and right now, his priority was his brother. A lesson on angel wings would unfortunately have to wait because even Sam wouldn't digress that far.
After the silence filled a considerable stretch of time, Sam took a deep breath and asked, "So, Cas... I need to know about my brother, man. What happened tonight?"
"Sam," Castiel stalled. He shoved his free hand in his pocket and pivoted, beginning to pace. Hesitantly, he said, "I have... feelings for your brother."
"Yes, I know that. I've always known that."
"You do?" Castiel asked in shock.
"Cas, man, it's pretty obvious," Sam admitted sadly.
"Then, why did Dean never notice?"
The angel's voice sounded so pathetic, that Sam almost soothed him as if he were a teenage girl. However, he swallowed it down and said instead, "Because Dean is blind when it comes to these things. He's probably so wrapped up in himself and so freaked out by his own feelings that he never noticed yours. Honestly, the guy is a grade-A womanizer; it's probably really hard for him to admit to himself that he likes another dude. But you've got to be a bit more forthcoming as well. Dean may be the best hunter I know, but he's pretty damn blind when it's important."
"So you're saying I should make it known that I harbor romantic feelings for Dean?" Castiel asked after a short, thoughtful pause.
"Yes," Sam answered curtly. He was aggravated that the conversation had turned into a therapy session.
"Duly noted."
"Good," Sam muttered sarcastically. There was yet another silence, this one more awkward than the last. "So, are you sure that Dean lost control again?" Sam asked impatiently. He wished Balthazar would return with Gabriel soon.
"Completely," Castiel stated. His voice dropped off, and Sam knew there was more to that sentence that Castiel was unwilling to say.
"And?" Sam prompted after a minute.
"And, I'm unsure whether he will ever regain control," Castiel choked out. He stopped moving to stand completely still. He had never been prone to pacing, and he wasn't sure why he felt so anxious to move now. "To be blunt, it is a miracle he is still alive at this point, given he has endured so much already."
Sam clenched his jaw so tightly that his gums twitched in pain. Though he was expecting such an answer, he still did not want to hear it. A million scenarios flashed through his mind: what could be happening to Dean, how he could be feeling, what would happen next… None of them were good.
Breathing deeply, Sam forced himself to calm down. He had to. A mental breakdown would not be of any aid at this moment; it would be quite the opposite. Somehow, he was the man with the plan this time. Everything depended on him. He had to keep his head. He had to stay on his feet. He had to make sure that every piece was on the square it should be. There couldn't be any trap doors this time.
For the first time, he was the one leading the charge. Sure, he had developed a plan to prevent the apocalypse, but that had been a last-ditch effort. No one had wanted to follow it, and certainly no one wanted it to work. This time, the others approved of the plan. Once again, it was the only one they had, but that did not make a difference now. Everyone who heard it thought it was acceptable. They were hoping it would succeed, even if they didn't think it would. This time, Sam was in charge of rescuing his brother and putting him back in one, sane piece. He had to put Humpty Dumpty back together again, and there was negative space for error.
"And there's nothing we can do from the outside to ensure he's still alright?" Sam asked in a strong yet desperate voice. The curtains to his left fluttered, indicating the angels' return, and he glanced their way to see that they had retrieved everything needed.
"No," Castiel was saying, "there's not."
"Well," Sam said, closing his eyes tightly, "it works better this way anyway." Castiel agreed hesitantly. Balthazar and Gabriel exchanged a nervous look at Sam's tone. "We need him dormant and out of the way. Beelzebub needs to be on the surface, right?"
"It would be ideal, yes."
"Then, I guess we should stop crying about it, and get a move on. What did you two bring back?"
Thank you to all who reviewed that last chapter for me! I really, really appreciate it! Seriously, you don't know how much it brightens my day to see even a single review.