A/N: *grins* Just a few more days left! Also – my friend made me a music vid for xmas and you should check out if you've got time. It's awesome! Link (remove spaces):
www. youtube. com/ watch? v=OA3dPECSHEw &feature=g-u &context=G26875e4FUAAAAAAADAA
Also, short chapter is short because apparently the cold I picked up last week does not appreciate lack of sleep, rich food and alcohol, which really, I should have seen coming.
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Advent - December 20th
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Castiel doesn't speak or make any kind of embarrassing noise when confronted by a very pissed off…something. He just raises his sword and meets Thorn blow for blow.
He starts out well, able to hold his own, but he's been fighting for far longer and Thorn seems possessed by something other than anger.
It's more like rage, Dean thinks. Pure, unadulterated rage. And it's being directed all at one person. Which is just unfair because Castiel hasn't done anything to hurt them and yet Thorn is still attacking.
Which is…weird, Dean thinks. Because why would Thorn be this emotional? Where is Thorn getting this sort of determination from? It's not his apartment that's been trashed.
If anything, it should be Dean and Sam who are angry. Or even Ash, because technically, it's still his place. And it's already been trashed once this night by two angels going at it in their living room. Seriously, Dean can't even begin to pick out the small chunks of plastic that was once their very big, very expensive television set with surround sound.
There's a small part of Dean that mourns that high definition set up. The same small part that likes watching skin flicks late at night – which Dean had argued, is a perfectly reasonable time to be watching them.
He totally and completely ignored Sam's arguments that due to his now nocturnal schedule, the middle of the night is now the middle of the day and Dean would you get off your ass already? I don't want to walk in on that sort of thing!
But Dean doesn't feel angry. He doesn't feel anything except shock because what the fuck is happening right now?
Dean grabs Sam and drags him back into the kitchen. He'd like to help apart from the part where he's still human and has no powers and, oh yeah, doesn't even have a sword.
Still, he feels kind of crappy leaving Castiel in there, fighting for his life.
And Dean's not deluding himself. Thorn is one determined son of a bitch and Castiel, even if he can handle himself, will not be able to hold up to him.
Dean sighs. At the moment, there's nothing he can do except take care of his brother and hope that they've left some sort of outside line in here so they can phone Ash.
Ash will help.
Ash has to help.
Dean manages to get them both into the kitchen without any real mishaps apart from one very close call with a fireball and Jesus shit when had Thorn been able to toss around those things?
Ah, the kitchen. The welcome resting place of the perpetually attacked. Home to the calming coffee and nerve reviving chocolate biscuits.
Dean likes this room, really he does. It just sucks that Dean's seen more of this room since he's been back than any other room in the apartment.
If Dean's had any choice in the matter he would have seen nothing of this place except for his bed. Maybe the shower.
Dean wouldn't have minded the shower.
Sam is still bleeding and doesn't even seem to notice. Dean grabs the nearest dishcloth and dabs at Sam's face, pressing it against his nose.
Sam blinks and looks at Dean, and then reaches up and holds the cloth to his face when he realises what Dean is doing.
Once Dean sees that Sam is maybe, sort of, under his own control for the moment, he gets up and sidles towards the empty doorway. The sound of destruction is still ringing loudly through the apartment.
Dean is so glad they have soundproofing. He doesn't even want to know what the old lady downstairs would be thinking about all the racket.
Probably some sort of harem orgy.
An all-male orgy.
Dean shivers as Sam comes up behind him, cloth still pressed to his face, and peeks out into the living room to see the damage.
What he sees leaves him cold.
Thorn is standing over an unarmed Castiel, who is lying on his back and wearing an expression of such hopelessness that Dean wants to rush over and wrap him up.
And then Thorn raises his sword and Dean finds himself moving anyway.
The next time Dean is really, fully aware of where he is and what he's doing is when he realises that he's standing in front of Castiel between him and Thorn's sword and he's probably going to die. But Sam is there. Sam is holding onto Thorn from behind and muttering quietly into Thorn's ear. And it's too quiet for Dean to hear properly but Dean doesn't know if that's because Sam is really fucking quiet or if his words are being drowned out by the roaring in Dean's ears.
Dean stays tense, crouching lightly between Thorn and the man who has saved him.
Saved him twice and that fucking means something damn it! Okay? Okay.
Whatever Sam is doing seems to be working and Dean watches as Thorn steadily relaxes his sword hand so his knuckles weren't a complete bone white pressing through his skin.
Dean relaxes with him, but not as fast as him, Dean still needs to be able to move and stay in position if Thorn decides to snap again.
But Sam doesn't leave. In fact, Sam gently tugs Thorn further away from Dean and Castiel, back to the furthest corner of the room. He's still muttering quietly but Thorn seems absorbed in what Sam is saying right now so Dean thinks it worth the risk to check on the man, angel, whatever, behind him.
Dean is completely unprepared to see Castiel still lying and looking at him with such naked wonder in his face that Dean's heart forgets to beat for a few seconds.
He offers down his hand, which Castiel stares at like no one has ever done for him before. It makes Dean flush with warmth as the way Castiel is so wrong-footed over such a simple gesture. And it also makes Dean feel cold because if Castiel isn't expecting anything like this, then just what has his life been like before?
Dean can deal with angels. What he can't deal with is anything like this.
Castiel's hand in his distracts him from his thoughts. The skin is warm and soft and Dean can feel Castiel's pulse flutter rapidly against his fingertips.
Dean pulls him up and Castiel is lighter than he expected because he comes off the ground easily and Dean almost doesn't have time to brace before he suddenly has an armful of surprised angel.
It's enough that even he has to take a moment to appreciate it.
He glances over his shoulder to Sam who shrugs helplessly. Dean sighs lightly and fishes out his cell phone.
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Ash takes one look at their apartment and says "You know, if you guys had wanted to redecorate then you could have just bought decorations. You didn't need to destroy the old stuff."
Which, really, would have been hilarious except for the part where Dean is still acting like a human shield to an angel and Sam is acting like a human security blanket to a…
Well, Dean doesn't really know what Thorn is.
Ash's lips twitch and he sighs melodramatically at the silence.
And then he clicks his fingers and everything is fixed and back into its proper place. Like two sword fights hadn't just occurred in an enclosed space filled with very breakable things.
The TV set is fixed, so Dean thinks at least something is alright. Then he gets a closer look at what's been changed and ha ha Ash is such a joker because Dean's pretty sure that they hadn't decorated for Christmas before angels took exceptions to his sofa and came down from on high to smite it.
Everything is done in dark woods and deep red and greens. There are gold garlands and tasteful decorations hanging on the wall.
Dean hopes they aren't real gold. But when it comes to Ash…
There's a fire crackling happily away to itself in the fireplace.
The fireplace that they didn't have five minutes ago.
Sometimes, no wait, make that all the time, Ash scares him.
But the decorations aren't all that's new. On the coffee table is an arrangement of food and wine. Wine. Not even a beer in sight.
That's it. Ash read his mind and is doing this on purpose just to fuck with him. Who drinks wine for Christ's sakes?
Apparently everyone apart from him. Well, him and Castiel it seems. And really he should not be surprised by some of the habits his brother has but…come on!
Sam sees the look Dean gives him as Sam sits down and throws his own bitch face back. And then, obviously just to fuck with Dean's head, takes a pointed sip of his wine and ignores the way Dean would like to call his brother out but can't.
There's something else bugging Dean about this whole setup and that's Thorn.
Thorn who, apparently for some reason Dean can't figure out – or can but just doesn't want to because that shit'll mess up his head – is sitting very close to Sam.
Very, very close.
Okay. So he's practically pressed against him. And Thorn is watching his baby brother drink like it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. In front of Dean.
Dean wants to punch him.
Thorn spots the glare Dean is levelling at him and smirks – smirks! – shifting even closer and picking up his own wine glass as if to say there's no need to be ill refined.
Dean really wants to punch him.
Dean, however, is distracted by the angel who is currently sitting next to him when said angel lightly brushes the tips of his fingers across Dean's throat.
Dean jumps and jerks around to find Castiel looking at him with such seriousness that his breath catches. And wasn't that a ridiculous thought?
Dean clears his throat and raises an eyebrow. When that doesn't seem to work, he puts down the sandwich he's just picked up and says "What?"
Castiel blinks and, for a long moment, Dean doesn't think he's going to answer. And then Castiel says, quietly like there's only the two of them in the room, "I'm glad that you do not carry her mark anymore."
Dean chokes, and he's not the only one it seems as the coughing from the other sofa proves that Sam has been listening in, and feels his face heat. He shifts uncomfortably for a moment. But whether he's uncomfortable at what's been said, or that others heard it, is up for debate.
"Uh." Dean says, "Thanks. I guess."
Castiel smiles then and Dean wants to roll his eyes at himself and the way his body is reacting.
Great. This's just…great.
Sam, who by this time has finished coughing, clears his throat and sets his glass down on the table. On a coaster Dean notices.
Seriously, just…where did Dean go wrong?
"So," Ash says, breaking across Dean's mourning, "what happened?"
Dean and Sam glance at each other, trying to force the other to start talking using nothing but the power of their eyes.
After a minute of silence Ash sighs and leans back in his chair, his wineglass dangling almost precariously from his fingers. Dean would be worried about it if he hadn't seen what Ash has just managed to fix in less than ten seconds.
"I'm waiting…" Ash says and Dean sighs.
Sam throws him a triumphant look and leans back, right against the arm Thorn has oh so casually slipped along the back of their sofa.
Thorn glares at Dean, challenge in his eyes.
Dean glares right back, challenge accepted jackass.