Title: Oadriax (6/13)
Fandom/Genre: Supernatural, Sci Fi, Drama, AU
Pairing(s): Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel, slight Bobby/Crowley this chapter. I REGRET NOTHING.
Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Graphic violence and warfare, adult themes including sex, canon character deaths, demon xenophobia, swearing, gore (in a war situation), PTSD and an attempted non-con situation.

Village life started early; Dean was a groggy, yawning mess when Gabriel arrived to retrieve him. Later, Dean was treated to his first experience of Angel Airways, and decided that yeah, he still hated flying.

Gabriel now sat nearby, forlornly examining the featherless patches in his wings where Dean may have been a little too overenthusiastic with his panicked grabbing. Insects buzzed in the vegetation, the day's heat shimmering above them. Bird-like creatures called to one another in the canopy above, but the angels took no notice of them.

The home tree was alive with activity, cooking fires doused and nests being cleaned. Flocks of children giggled and played nearby, their mothers keeping an eye on them as they murmured to each other in quiet voices. Around the back of the massive tree, was a smaller cleared area lined by green bushes and flowers. It was here the angels kept their mounts, or Levithmong as Castiel kept reminding him, and it was here Dean was expected to start his training. The creatures were too weird looking to be compared to horses, groups of them grazing along the edges of their pasture. Instead of lips, they had hard chitinous beaks, long tongues sliding between them to dip into various flowers to reach the sweet nectar inside.

Now that Dean had a good look at them, they were different to the cat animal that had nearly made him lunch, smaller and no sharpened fangs. It was still just a mass of corded muscle, with six strong legs that ended in four toed talons. For climbing, Cas had told him curtly, though Dean thought they looked more suited to disemboweling hapless humans.

Their thick long necks ended in a large triangular head, with two sets of almond shaped eyes set along each cheekbone. Instead of a mane like a horse, hard dark blue plates interlocked down their necks, creating a reptilian scale effect along their necks and backs. The animals nickered to one another, muscular tails slapping against their hides as they moved through the grass.

Dean had never been much of a rider, so when Castiel started pushing him towards them, he had told the angel as much, protesting loudly. Castiel ignored him, flapping his wings hard and shoving Dean forward. Up close, the Levithmong were broad but smaller than he had thought, their thick heads only reaching Dean's chest. Still, Dean had never had anything that big between his legs that didn't at least have breasts attached.

Ha. Panic humor. Hilarious.

Castiel singled one out of the herd, looping a woven rope harness around its head slowly. The Levithmong fretted at first, but calmed as Castiel clicked his tongue at it, following the angel willingly away from the herd.

It's four dark brown eyes eyed Dean warily as he approached it, head cocked to watch him more fully. Its dark grey skin was warm under his hand, leathery to the touch, and Dean smiled nervously as it pawed at the earth with one foot.

"Woah, easy girl."

Gabriel stopped fussing over his wings, glancing up and brushing a stray insect away. "Hershey is a boy."

Dean paused, one leg already hitched over the creature's back. Castiel was still murmuring to the creature, stroking its thick neck as it shifted beneath Dean's weight. "Like the chocolate?"

Gabriel winked. "You got it. Bobby had a stash in his desk one time. Didn't last long, and I liked the name."

Rather ungracefully, Dean made it onto the broad back, shifting his hips more comfortably against the hard armor. The Levithmong made a honking noise, shifting all six legs impatiently, and Castiel shushed it gently, running his fingers along the back of its skull. It quieted, a purring sound rumbling in its barrel-like chest.

"We communicate with them by passing our malprigzch through their minds," Castiel explained, voice soft as the Levithmong crooned to him. "It is a…state of being."

"Well I guess I don't have much of that," Dean said dryly, and the Levithmong flicked it's bat-like ears back. "I'll be lucky to not fall o-"

Dean yelped as the creature reared a little, clutching at the rope reins desperately. Castiel's fingers framed the beast's face, and it calmed again, snorting as its six legs shifted.

"You will ride your own Levithmong after you become a full Ne'gassagen," Castiel nodded to him. "It is important you learn now. Tell him to move."

Gabriel looked on as Dean tried to gently coax the beast forward, barely concealing a huge grin. A smaller group of younger angels stood on the outskirts of the paddocks, wide eyed and whispering.

"Right," Dean said weakly, swallowing hard. "Alright, Hershey. Go easy on me."

He nodded towards Castiel, and the angel let go of the reins. For a moment, it seemed like all was well, the Levithmong merely looking around blankly, ears swiveling and nostrils flaring. Dean grinned triumphantly.

"All right! I think I got this dow-"

Like a greyhound out of the gate, the Levithmong jerked forward with a trumpet of joy. Dean clung on for dear life as it thundered away with him onboard, desperately hoping that maybe this time his death would be quick. The six legs powered it along like a freight train, reaching a speed that had Dean's fingers slipping on the reins in only seconds. If he fell, it would be the equivalent to a shuttle crash, nothing left of him but a big squishy mess.

Just as Dean was beginning to ponder what Sam might say at his funeral, the Levithmong's head snapped around, forcefully tugged by the rope rein. It yielded to the tug, slowing down and prancing in a circle unhappily. Its tail lashed back and forth, slapping Dean hard on the thigh, and he yelped, letting one hand go of the rein to try and smack the tail away. Sensing freedom was only a buck away, the Levithmong ducked its head low, back arching as it kicked its back legs out hard. Dean barely had a moment to pinwheel his arms desperately in the air before gravity once again decided to screw him over. His back slammed to the ground, a wet splat accompanying the dull ache.

For a moment, he just stared up at the blue sky, blinking and winded as nearby, Castiel wrestled the beast back under control. After getting his breath back, Dean sat up with a wince, spitting mud out of his mouth and flicking his hands. Castiel was looking over at him with wide eyes as Gabriel's raucous laughter filled the clearing.

"Are you well?" Castiel asked, the Levithmong fretting at his side as he approached Dean. "Do you need-"

"No! I'm fine," Dean slapped the angel's offered hand away, pride stinging, but only succeeded in spraying mud everywhere and forcing Gabriel's laughs up a higher pitch.

The other Levithmongs, curious about the strange creature currently wallowing in their mud, began a slow wander over, gazing down at Dean curiously as they bleated to each other. Even Castiel looked like he was suppressing a smile, ducking his head as Dean glared over at him.

"Not. A. Word," he growled, struggling to his knees. Castiel nodded, but his eyes were definitely far too bright.

As if Dean's embarrassment wasn't enough, the commotion drew a familiar lumbering shape towards them. Uriel landed in a flap of sullen wings, stare practically baking the mud that now seemed to encase the human head to toe.

"Nidali-vpaah do not belong here. You should leave," Uriel growled.

With a flick of his arms, Dean sent mud spattering everywhere, some hitting Uriel's feet. The angel flapped backwards with a grimace, and Dean winced. Gabriel was still choking back laughter, Castiel smiling into his hand.

Screw it. The guy already hated him, might as well make this entertaining.

"Nah, you'd miss me," Dean smiled up at him, and Uriel's scowl deepened. "You'd have no-one else to aim that gorgeous smile at."

Muttering, Uriel turned to Castiel, whose face immediately schooled into a neutral mask. Uriel's wings were agitated, bristling and gesturing.

"A rock would see more, Castiel. Look at him! You cannot teach the toltag!"

Dean was still spitting mud out, trying to unsuccessfully pick it off his tongue when Castiel looked over, smiling.

"Perhaps. We will see."

Hershey leaned into the angel, forcing a breathless laugh from Castiel as he tried to push the beast away. The Levithmong merely chirped at him, nuzzling its head into the angel's wings. With a dark mutter and glower, Uriel stormed away, Levithmong clicking at him with their beaks as he strode by.

Dean struggled to his feet, shooing away a Levithmong that had been happily mouthing at his hair, beak scratching his scalp gently. It moved away with an unhappy sigh, leaving behind a string of drool.

"What was that you said?" Dean ran a hand over his head, grimacing at the mixture of mud and Levithmong drool. "I get one of these beasts to call my own? Can I get some training wheels or something?"

Castiel reached out to flick a glob of mud off Dean's arm. "You do not choose a Levithmong, Dean. It chooses you. You see, we are all connected by this thread of life, our malprigzch. We share this with our Levithmong to strengthen the bond. It cannot easily be broken. "

Dean rolled his eyes, pinching the front of his t-shirt to pull it away from his skin and give it a shake. "Jesus Cas, you about to break into a Colors of the Wind solo?"

The angel frowned at that, cocking his head curiously. He looked like a confused bird, and Dean couldn't help but smile at him.

"I'm afraid I do not understand that reference," Castiel said. "Is that an Earth saying?"

Gabriel glided over on silent wings, landing beside them. The bastard was still chuckling as he took the reins from Castiel's hand, cocking an eyebrow at Dean.

"I guess that would make you John Smith," the angel winked at him. "But keep the kissing to a minimal, okay? Kokoum over there wouldn't be too happy."

Dean flicked mud at him. "Hilarious."

Uriel was still watching from the edge of the field, and Dean gave him a cheery wave. Gabriel turned, grabbing Hershey's face between his hands.

"You were so good! Yes you were! Made Papa laugh!"

With over exaggerated sounds, Gabriel planted sloppy kisses along the top of the Levithmong's head between its ears. The beast squealed happily, tail wagging back and forth as it returned the affection, long tongue covering Gabriel in equally disgusting kisses.

Dean turned away, making mock heaving noises. The other Levithmong's milled around them, grazing, and a few sniffed Dean curiously. None seemed to greet Castiel though, and Dean glanced over at him curiously.

"So where's yours?" he asked, grunting as a young Levithmong took a shining to him and leaned up against him heavily. Dean cautiously tried scratching it behind the ear, and the creature went completely limp, purring up at him.

Castiel paused, a shadow briefly flickering across his face. The angel reached out, fingers trailing along Hershey's side, tracing the giant heaving ribs.

"Anael was killed," he said quietly. "I have not had the heart to forge a bond with another."

Dean could sense the grief still attached to those words. "I'm sorry. What happened?"

The angel sighed, glancing up towards the sky. "There is a reason we use Levithmong to hunt and move through the forest. A reason why we rarely take to the clear skies."

The young Levithmong nestled its head against Dean's stomach, purrs reverberating against his skin. Another pressed along his back, head-butting him playfully and Dean awkwardly reached behind him to try and pet that one too.

"What do you mean? You guys have freaking wings. I'm surprised you're down here with us mud-monkeys at all."

Gabriel pulled away from Hershey. "You're telling me. But there's something up there that likes making snacks out of us. At least the Levithmong can outrun it. Usually."

"Teloch," Castiel muttered. "Death from above. Many an angel has fallen before its rage."

Icy fingers tickled down Dean's spine. "Sounds scary."

Gabriel snorted. "You have no idea."

Far above the pasture, in the uppermost branches of the home tree, Michael looked down over his people. Gabriel's laughter could be heard on the wind along with the braying of Levithmong, and Michael smiled slightly. It seemed Castiel had chosen to start the human's education with riding. An amusing choice indeed.

Feathers rustled, and Michael recognized the weight of the wings that cleaved through the air to join him.

"You should not have allowed it, Michael. You welcomed the outsider with open arms."

Michael turned away from the edge of the nest, glaring as his brother landed.

"And why should we not, Lucifer?" he demanded, wings puffing as Lucifer glanced around the nest unimpressed. "Our people can, and will be slaughtered by these aliens unless we make peace. This, Dean could help us."

Lucifer's grey wings twitched as Michael stepped down from the branch, feet rustling against the rough fabric of the nest he had woven himself.

Michael crossed his arms, eyes stormy. "Father welcomed them."

"And Father died," Lucifer said bluntly. "Will you pay the same price he did?"

Michael growled, wings unfolding behind him to posture aggressively. "Father's death had nothing to do with them."

Recognizing the display, Lucifer lowered his own wings, feathers spreading. He was unwilling to completely submit to his brother however, eyes still hot and glaring. "It was because of that woman and you know it. Now her offspring is here! Ill omens, Michael. You should heed them."

The smoky scent of spice permeated Michael's nose, and his posture relaxed. From the core of the tree, Raphael climbed the last roughly hewn step, her delicate wings folded against her back. Michael had always thought her beautiful, graceful and commanding. She wore the band Michael had woven her for their mating ceremony around her neck—the bleached white tooth of a Vniglag he had slain for her, its proud centerpiece. She was his Queen, and she held herself as thus, chin high.

"And what would you know of omens, Lucifer?" she asked sharply, dark eyes glinting. Raphael may be the iadnamad, but she was by no means quiet or meek.

Lucifer sneered at her, though his wings bowed to her as was expected. "I fail to see what business you have here."

Michael jerked his wing forward, striking Lucifer hard. His brother staggered back, wings bending lower in submission.

"Hold your tongue!" Michael snapped. "Raphael is my mate, and your iadnamad. You will treat her with respect."

Lucifer snorted, crouching low to the ground. "Your marriage to the Vabzir clan is a sham. Don't try and make it genuine."

Michael's wing flexed, ready to deal out the punishment his brother so dearly deserved, but Raphael stopped him with a shake of her head. Michael stilled, withdrawing slightly and letting her approach the crouching angel.

She stood over Lucifer, wings perfectly still whereas Michael's twitched and fretted.

"Do you see my clan fighting yours?" Raphael asked quietly. Lucifer kept his gaze firmly trained on her feet, expression sullen. Raphael reached down to grab his chin with her slim fingers, forcing him to look up at her. "Do you see us slaughtering one another in the name of a ridiculous feud? No."

She dropped her fingers, and Lucifer once again stared at the ground. "Our union has ensured peace between the clans. You may not think it, Lucifer, but seeking peace is not unwise. If we can forge peace with the humans, then we must try."

The iadnamad moved away, moving into Michael's nuzzled her dark hair affectionately. Lucifer slowly rose from his crouched position, wings still carefully bowed.

"So you say. Are humans even capable of peace?"

Michael shot his brother a stern look. "Mary Winchester was no war monger."

"And look what happened to her," Lucifer shifted his wings irritably. "Killed by her own people. And just in case you somehow forgot, our father killed too."

"There was no killing, Lucifer. It was an accident," Raphael said firmly. "She was a friend of our people. Your father was honorable, and died an honorable death. But now, her son could be the answer to hostilities."

She moved from Michael's arms, leaning over the edge to stare down at the pasture below. "We cannot defeat them if they declare war. They have their machines, and their guns. We have nothing. Should they so decide, they can wipe us out."

Lucifer huffed unhappily. "So you entrust this to Castiel? The little fool should not be-"

"Castiel is capable," Raphael interrupted. "You would do well to believe that."

"Capable of ruining everything he touches," Lucifer muttered, slowly joining the two to look down at the clan below. "The fledgling will doom us."

Raphael sighed, shaking her head. The beads in her hair rattled, and Michael reached out to run his fingers along them carefully.

"He is a fledgling no longer," his mate said quietly, smiling at Michael. "It is about time you accept him as such, Lucifer. He is a baltoh and your brother."

Lucifer's lip curled in a sneer, eyes stormy where they watched the dark shape of his little brother below.

"Never."

Bobby's office was a cluttered mess of folders, holopads and half full coffee cups. That's the way the old scientist like it, and that's the way it had stayed. Jo shook her head, a crinkled and yellowed sheet of paper pinched between her forefinger and thumb.

"Still won't reconsider the whole cleaning thing, huh Daddy-o?"

When she got no reply, she glanced towards her step-father. Bobby was slumped at his desk, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

"I feel like a worried mother hen," he muttered. "Worryin' 'bout that idiot boy out there. What if the angels-"

Jo chuckled, flicking her hair over one shoulder. "If there's one guy you shouldn't worry about, it's Dean. The angels had their chance to shishkebab him and didn't. So stop fretting."

Bobby smiled weakly at her. "I guess. Can't help it though. I'm a worrier, baby girl."

An old photograph was wedged between the computer and a stack of holopads on the desk, and Jo cautiously fished it out. A familiar face smiled back at her, and her fingers traced the worn photo lovingly, fingertips following the flick of a curl and the crinkle of a smile.

"Mom's looking a little worn there, Papa Bear," she commented quietly. "You know how much she hated wrinkles."

Bobby glanced up, noticing the photo. "Oh. Yeah," he cleared his throat, reaching out to retrieve the crinkled paper from her hand. Sliding open a drawer at his desk, he carefully, reverently, placed the picture inside. "Yeah. I just…wanted to see her."

Jo moved around the desk, resting her hands on her step-father's shoulders. "I think she'd be pretty proud of us though. She never did understand our science mumbo jumbo, but she supported us," she leant down, wrapping her arms around Bobby's neck, pressing her cheek close against his hair. "She'd be happy we're continuing."

Bobby squeezed the arms around his neck, leaning back into the circle of her arms.

"Sometimes I wonder if this base is cursed," he muttered. "First Mary, then our Ellen…"

Jo snorted, tightening her arms. "Dr. Campbell was killed in a lab fire. Mom died from cancer. I think the base is pretty blameless."

"Was it a mistake coming here?" Bobby continued, staring across his office, gaze far away. "If we had stayed on Earth, near the Citadel…maybe there'd be a doctor-"

"Don't," Jo's voice was firm, her grip hard as she hugged Bobby. "Mom wanted to come out here just as much as you and I did. She loved Oadriax. Best we can do to honor her is save it. Save the Ne'gassagen."

Bobby chuckled as she pressed a quick kiss against the rough stubble of his cheek. She pulled away, releasing him, and he turned to look up at her affectionately. "When did you get so wise?"

Jo shrugged, cocking her hip as she winked. "Probably around the time I got so awesome. Y'know. At birth."

The office door slid open and a dark figure stepped inside. Outlined by the harsh lab lights, both scientists could only squint in confusion for a second, before a familiar cultured voice broke the silence.

"Well if it isn't Goldilocks. How's that shooting arm of yours?"

Jo shot a look towards her step-father, stepping away. "Doing just fine, thanks."

Crowley crossed his arms, arching an eyebrow at the young blonde as she moved past him.

"So I hear. Killed any demons lately?"

"As if!" Jo sniffed haughtily. "I barely grazed him!"

"You nearly shot his arm off."

"Little creep shouldn't touch things that aren't his," Jo sauntered out of the office, turning to glare at Crowley one last time. "Especially, butts that don't belong to him."

The door slid shut, and Crowley laughed out loud, shaking his head with admiration as he moved further into the office.

"I don't know what's funnier Robert, the fact that every demon on base, including Azazel, is actually afraid of you, or that your little firecracker daughter nearly killed a demon with an air rifle."

Bobby reached for a pile of papers, needing to keep his fingers busy with something. Those red eyes watched him as he shuffled through the pile, and Bobby glared at the demon, teeth already grinding. "Is there a reason you grace me with your presence?"

Crowley shrugged, turning away to glance at the various certificates and awards lining the walls. "I got bored. Only so many secretaries I can harass, and after a while, even Azazel gets boring to poke."

He paused at a small side table, making a face at a coffee cup half-filled with cold and sludge-like coffee. He gave it an experimental flick, and a dust cloud rose from the surrounding papers.

"No angel today then?" he murmured.

Bobby stiffened, papers stilling in his hands. Crowley moved away from the table, fingers trailing along the back of a wooden chair that had lain forgotten in a corner.

"Oh relax. Like I actually give a rat's ass," the chair scraped across the carpet, joints creaking as the demon pulled it over to Bobby's desk. Twirling it around, he straddled it, resting his arms on the back. "How you get results doesn't really matter to me, just as long as you get them."

Bobby slapped the paper stack back down. "How do you even know about Gabriel?"

"Know all, see all," Crowley shrugged, red eyes bright in the dim light of the office. "This is my kingdom, Robert. I keep an eye on my subjects."

"Well then your royal highness, maybe you could control some of 'em."

The demon frowned, shifting slightly on the hard chair. "Meaning?"

Bobby glared at him, leaning across his desk to point at the demon angrily. "Don't pretend you don't know. Azazel and those lackey's of his have their eyes on Dean. I want them directed elsewhere."

Crowley didn't even bother to try and look like he didn't understand. "What are you implying? I'm sure I have no idea."

"You know what I mean!" Bobby's voice echoed around the office. "When Mary was alive she could barely go two paces without that slimy bastard Alistair houndin' her every step. Poor woman never went anywhere alone. And now, I see those same black eyes followin' her son-"

Bobby's eyes were ice, his voice low and gruff. "I'll kill that son of a bitch if he tries anythin'. Those boys are part of my team, my family."

Crowley sighed, holding his hands up. "I wish it was that simple. But Azazel…Azazel is not a demon to be fucked with. My power over him only extends so far, and he has friends back home. Big friends. Do you know what that yellow bastard would do to me? Or have done to me?"

Crowley leaned forward, eyes serious. "I saw it once, on Hel. Yellow eyes don't screw around you know."

Bobby ran a rand through his greying hair, shoulders slumping. He thumped one fist down on the pile of papers angrily.

"I know. And Dean sure as hell knows. Kid has been dealt a shitty hand in life, and I don't want it gettin' any worse. So just…help me out here, and keep that scum under control."

"You're asking a big favor here Singer," Crowley tapped his chin thoughtfully. "If I'm going to put my, rather shapely by the way, arse on the line for you, I have to know there's something in it for me."

Bobby stared at the demon, fingers drumming the desk angrily. "Like what?"

"Oh I don't know…" Crowley glanced at the ceiling as if pondering the question. "How about you dial it down on the whole crotchety bastard routine, hand in your reports on time with no swearing, and I'm allowed to enter your biolabs at any time, any day. Oh and whenever you're around other personnel in my presence, you have to call me 'Lord Crowley' or 'Your Majesty'. You pick."

Bobby's teeth creaked as he ground them together. Crowley merely smiled back at him, smug and unrepentant.

"And you'll keep Azazel off Dean?" Bobby asked gruffly. "Alistair too?"

Crowley shrugged. "Azazel I can probably do. Alistair? Well I'll try, but that little shit is slimier than an oiled up eel. But I have my ways."

Bobby mulled that over sullenly. Crowley may be a pain in the ass, but he was true to his word. To keep Dean in one piece would only cost all of Bobby's pride apparently. A small price to pay, considering.

"Alright," Bobby growled. "Alright, you son of a bitch. Yes."

Crowley wiggled a finger in his ear. "Sorry?" he asked innocently. "Didn't quite catch that."

Bobby's glare would have killed a lesser creature. "Yes, Lord Crowley."

Crowley smiled, red eyes bright and winking. "See, darling? That wasn't so hard."

"So we have a deal," grumbling to himself, Bobby held out his hand. "You reds are into deals aren't you? Bet you get off on this."

Crowley rose from his chair, slowly moving to stand in front of the desk, looking at Bobby's outstretched hand. Before Bobby could process the wicked smile on the demon's face, Crowley's fingers closed around his offered hand, circling around his wrist. With a sharp tug, Bobby was dragged forward, half draped over his own desk.

Crowley grinned at him, face only inches away. "You have no idea, darling."

Bobby stared at the demon, wide eyed and baffled. Crowley's red eyes bore into his, almost hypnotic, and when the demon smiled, it was all teeth. "And to seal them, we don't just shake hands."

Before he could really process what was happening, Crowley tugged him forward again. Papers went scattering as Bobby slammed his hands down on the desk to prevent a face plant. Crowley's fingers scraped Bobby's scalp as the demon grabbed the back of the scientist's head to pull him into a punishing kiss. Teeth clicked against his and Bobby drew in a startled breath, caught off guard. There was the brief flick of a tongue against his upper lip, and then Crowley was pulling away.

Bobby just gawked at him, for once, completely speechless.

"Alright then. It's a deal," the demon winked, already turning and heading for the door. "I'll try to keep the hounds at bay. Just keep up your end, Robert."

Bobby sat there, blinking, unsure of what had really just happened.

"Bobby," he muttered dazedly.

Crowley paused, the door sliding open in front of him. Outlined in the lab lights beyond, he looked like a solid shadow. "What?"

"My name," Bobby shook himself, wondering if he was suffering from a sudden episode of dementia and living in some sort of absurd nightmare. "You might as well use it."

Crowley smiled, stepping out into the lab without a word.