"Victor, Annie, you feel ready for a job?" Charlie asks.
Dean looks up at Charlie, and she mouths 'demon' at him. Nodding, Dean goes back to his work, half listening half trying to ignore the conversation as Charlie laid out her information and asks if they think it's signs of a demon. Dean privately thinks that it does sound like one, and the others reach the same conclusion. Half an hour later Annie and Victor have permission from Rufus, have what they need from the weapons room, and are leaving for Ohio. Cas isn't around and Dean's glad he doesn't have to explain to the angel why Dean isn't the one taking care of the case and Victor and Annie are instead, especially when Dean has angel power to back him up.
Cas is hovering around the next few days though, and Dean is becoming more and more used to the lurking, even when it was still creeping him out a little. The times that startle him the most is when he would wake up and Cas would be watching him. The fact that Cas could just come in whenever he wants and Dean would have no idea that he's there is getting on his nerves.
Dean had tried to tell the angel that hovering isn't cool and normal people didn't do that, but to no avail. When he had rolled over in the morning and found blue eyes studying him unblinkingly, he had put his foot down. He had been late for work, but he had made it very clear to the angel that not only was it not appropriate to be inside Dean's room while he was sleeping without his permission, he made sure Cas knew that he didn't want him in his room. He had particularly horrible dreams of being watched for the next few days. He hadn't asked how long Cas had been standing there, because he was afraid that the angel would answer all night.
Dean thinks that Cas still doesn't understand the concept of personal space or why exactly Dean hadn't wanted him in his room, but he is certain the angel would stay out now.
Dean knows that Annie and Victor had arrived in Ohio when Charlie starts getting emails and calls from them. It becomes more and more apparent with every furtive look in Dean's direction that Charlie wants to call him over but she doesn't want to bother him with whatever they are finding.
One night Charlie asks if she can take him out, relax a little, maybe help Dean pick up some girls at a local bar. Dean, never one to say no, agrees and they both leave before eight, daring Rufus to say something. The older man rolls his eyes and waves for them to go.
The bright lights and too loud music resonate around them as Dean orders their first drinks. Charlie sits down next to him, and Dean agrees that the night isn't late enough for people looking to head over to someone else's apartment.
"So what's Annie and Victor doing that has you wound up so tight?" Dean says, nearly yelling over the music and voices.
"Nothing really. They're just finding some stuff and… well I can understand why you try to avoid the demon cases."
"Do you need me to take a look at anything?"
"No, no, we're fine. Really," she says and Dean sends her a disbelieving look.
"If you say so," Dean replies sceptically, before he's distracted by a very fine looking ass walking past.
"Why don't you go and hit that," Charlie suggests, even as her eyes glint with suppressed frustration, and she knows that Dean won't do it.
"Charlie." Dean just says her name, not needing anything else to convey his annoyance. This wasn't a part of Charlie's life, it was his, and really, she had no business poking into it.
"Yeah yeah, we've had this conversation before. All I'm saying is, you really think I'm going to judge?"
"I know you won't. That's just not the problem."
Charlie lets out a deep breath. "Just tell me what the problem is then. I can help, I can help you past it, I can listen, whatever you need."
Dean looks down at his beer. "I need you to drop it. Charlie, I'm not going to talk about it, and that's that."
Charlie hmms a little, but she's looking after the guy like she might go and ask him to start hitting on Dean, just to get something happening.
"You'll have to face whatever it is you're hiding from some day," she says.
"Yeah, well someday isn't today," Dean grunts out, and he hears Charlie's little sigh of defeat before she slides off her seat and winds her way into the crowd towards the dance floor. Charlie had always liked dancing.
Dean orders another drink.
Five days after Victor and Annie had left, Dean gets tired of the looks Charlie is sending him. Everyone except for those out on the field are in the room when Dean stands up and goes over to Charlie.
"What's up?" He asks flatly. He's not going to take no for an answer, and Charlie probably knows him well enough to realise that he isn't going to back off.
By her sigh of relief, she was probably waiting for Dean to come over so she didn't have to ask him, which is a pretty shitty thing to do, but Charlie dislikes making anyone uncomfortable, and that includes Dean and demons.
"Can you identify who or what type of demon would make marks like this?" She asks.
Dean walks around to look over Charlie's shoulder as she brings up a closed tab that had numerous pictures on it and started scrolling through them.
Dean looks at the pictures on Charlie's computer, trying to fight the urge to vomit. "I wanted to think it would never come," he whispers into the silence of the room, and feels everyone's eyes on him.
"What would never come?" Garth asks, puzzled.
"Hush," Charlie shushes him.
"Dean?" Cas asks softly, coming up next to him and gently placing a few fingers under his elbow. Dean feels his nausea receding, and looks thankfully at Cas.
"Thanks," he mutters. "Close that, please. I don't need to know anything else. I don't need to see anything else."
Dean tugs his elbow out of Cas's slight grip, turning and leaning against the wall, closing his eyes and putting his head against the wall as well. He can still feel everyone looking at him, and it's bringing back memories of being observed and looked at and picked apart every second of every day for months on end. "Stop it," he says. "Stop it, please. Don't look at me."
Charlie immediately turns her back, and yanks Ash and Garth around with her. Rufus and Krissy hesitantly turn their backs. Cas half turns but keeps one eye on him, and Dean's grateful for that, the reminder that he's not alone, that the angel might not know what happened to him, but he can probably see the distress winding its way through his soul and into his stomach and oh yes here it comes.
Throwing up in a plant bowl is not fancy.
Garth winces at the sound, and Cas keeps silently watching him, and while it came across as probing and searching from the others, he didn't feel like he would ever need to get away from Cas's gaze.
Whoa. Where did that come from?
Shaking it off, Dean wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and stood up. "Anyway."
"Dean?" Rufus asks. "What is it?"
"A call. A call that he sends out to us, that he sends when he needs us." Dean feels like he's underwater, his head spinning, fighting off memories from his four months of Hell. "I need to go," he says, standing up. "Where are they?"
"Ah, Ohio, what do you mean you have to go?"
"Yes, Ohio, 'With God All Things Are Possible.' Makes sense, that's what he would do." Dean lets the laugh that is bubbling up inside him out. It comes out dark and desperate, a remnant of a time where he had been hopeless and lost. The other five people and the angel in the room flinch at the sound, looking at him worriedly. "Makes sense," repeats. "Yes, I have to leave, have to go to him." Grabbing his jacket, Dean starts to walk out the room before three sets of hands grab him. Charlie, Rufus and Krissy are all hanging onto him, and Cas is standing in front of the door to the room, when he was leaning against the far wall only a second ago.
"Dean," Rufus starts, voice low. "Boy, what are you doing?"
"He told us Rufus. Alastair told us," Dean says, staring off at the wall of the building. "He told us to come to him when he sent the call. This is the signal. I have to go."
"Dean you're not going anywhere. Annie and Victor have this one."
"No." Dean whispers. "No they don't."
The people surrounding him were looking well and truly scared now, but Dean is beyond caring, his emotions and mind numb. "That's what we were made for. To help find it. A spell."
Cas turns him so he is looking into his eyes. "Dean. Look at me. What are you finding? What spell?"
Dean shakes his head. "I don't know, he never told me, I could never figure it out, just that we would be used to find something."
Cas narrows his eyes slightly and reaches out, places a hand on Dean's shoulder.
Dean feels the world move around him, feels the weightlessness of flight, nausea, sickness and then suddenly he's on flat ground with the cool of night air surrounding him, and the contrast of the two has him heaving before he can realise what has happened.
He vaguely hears Annie and Victor's voices from far away, but vomits again before he can look around. He realises he's leaning against something, something person shaped but not moving at all, realises that it's Cas and hurriedly tries to remove himself from the angel's grip. Cas refuses to let him go, holding Dean by his arm and the back of his shirt.
When he finally feels like he's not going to choke up his stomach from his mouth, Dean stands, and grunts at Cas to let him go. The shorter man does reluctantly, and Dean still sways when he stands up completely, and sees the slightly bemused looking Cas in front of him, covered in puke from the waist down.
"Oh my god," Dean mutters, feeling himself flush bright red from embarrassment. Cas blinks and suddenly he's completely clean.
Annie and Victor are looking at him in shock. "Did you fly me here?" Dean asks Cas, who nods.
Dean can hear the others on the end of the phone Annie is holding to her head, and isn't that disorientating?
Cas stands at his elbow, touching him slightly, and Dean feels his healing mojo run through him, calming his stomach and head, making him feel better.
"My apologies. The first time is the worst. Over time you will get used to the feeling."
Dean rubs his head. "Well. Okay." So flying is something that happens now? Shrugging it off as unimportant at the moment, he raises his head and looks around. They're on a long street, but he can't see anyone anywhere. He wouldn't have needed Charlie or anything else to tell him Alastair is here when he can feel the demons presence in the town. "Let's get this show on the road. Annie, where did you find the body?"
"Ah, the last building on the main street, a house with no one living in it. It's a crime scene, so it shouldn't be too hard to find, yellow tape out the front. Why?"
Dean is already walking down the road.
"Dean! What are you doing?" Victor is trying to run after him but his ankle is still not fully healed, and he has to slow down after a few steps. Annie is on the phone, looking concerned and apparently talking to Charlie, who is probably slightly hysterical at this point, but Dean is still beyond caring, the ultimatum that Alastair gave him all those years ago running through his head. He doesn't pause to consider why Cas has transported them here, or why the angel is following him silently when before he had seemed intent on stopping Dean.
Cas is walking beside him, and Dean can feel the angel's gaze pressing on him. "How do you know Alastair Dean?" The angel asks, and there's something about that moment, maybe the fact that Cas brought him here, or that he wasted mojo to help him feel better, or maybe he's just dumb, but Dean can't lie or avoid him anymore, the need to tell Cas everything rising up in his throat, spilling words whether he wanted it to or not.
"About two years ago, we ran into Meg, and she said that I would be a good student for a plan that the demons were implementing. Before we even got home from that hunt there was a car pileup, and I got possessed. By Alastair. This was before we had the anti-possession tattoos, understand. He took me for four months, and he tortured people while he was in me, and he kept me awake for every second of it. He taught me how to torture, all the different methods, pounded it all into my head. But that wasn't all that he taught me, and now I can recognise nearly any demons work, I know about Lucifer's Crypts, I knew where the knife was. I know things that I shouldn't, dead languages and evil facts, how Hell works and more about torture than any sane person should and how to get someone to talk.
"I was the first student, and he told me that there would be others, and that when we saw the signal he needed us where it was found. He told me that I knew what he would do if I didn't come and yes, I knew what he would do, he would go to Sam, because he knows everything about me Cas. Everything. He dug through my head, and he took what he wanted and shaped and moulded me until I wasn't even myself anymore. That's what my dreams are about you know. They're horrible and I just want them to end but I'm sure that they're not going to anytime soon."
Cas isn't even looking where he was walking, his head turned towards Dean as he spilt his heart out. The angel's eyes are wide and soft, and not judgemental at all, and Dean feels like he can talk forever and the angel would listen to what he had to say. The effect is calming, and Dean continues on more softly.
"That's why I have to go, mainly. I can't let anything happen to Sam, but I also have this voice, this part of me, in my head, that's telling me to go to him, to rip off my skin to get the tattoo off, because a part of me liked it Cas. A part of me wants to continue to do that, even though there's no demon under my skin, to use the knowledge he taught me. That's what scares me the most, I guess." Dean avoids Cas's eyes as he speaks, watching his feet as they fly, taking him down the path and towards his Hell.
The angel doesn't say anything, and Dean is afraid that he's scared him off, that Cas has finally seen how rotten and dark Dean is inside and regrets ever being assigned him as a partner. A minute passes and Dean finally gathers the courage to look at where the angel had been. He's convinced that there would only be empty space there, that Cas had flown off, but the deep blue eyes are still on him, still looking at him, probably trying to examine his soul or some shit like that. Dean is unexplainably angry. Why is Cas still here? Doesn't he see how broken and tormented and wrong Dean was? Is?
"You humans are very contradictory," the angel says, and Dean stops and turns to face him.
"What do you mean?" he asks, angrily. He had just laid open an extremely broken and hurt part of himself, and what does the angel have to say? Some stupid observation on the human species.
"Your body language is telling me that you wish for me to go, and you're projecting that you think that I'm gone, and when you turn around you're angry I'm still here. Yet your soul is calling out for help, a plea for aid, and a cry for assistance. You want me to be here right now Dean. And while I cannot help your inner demons, I can help with the outer ones. Alastair is inside this house, and I will attempt to help, if you let me. Can you do that Dean?"
Dean hesitates. While he might have told the darker haired man about his past, was he ready for Cas to intercede with his future?
With a jolt, Dean realises that he already has. Ever since he had trusted Cas to stay the night and not kill him in his sleep, he's been factoring Cas into his future. What he wants to do, what he can do, what different hunts it would be useful to have an angel with him on, what new things he could show Cas. Swallowing, Dean looks at the shorter man, really looks at him. The trench coat is thankfully vomit free, the tie is on backwards and the shoes could use a shine. He looks like an unassuming individual, someone you could pass on the street on your way to work every day for years and not even notice. But there's something there, something in the shine of his eyes maybe? How he holds himself? How he moves and acts? Something that labels him as not human, as be cautious, as danger.
And yet when did all those things stop coming through to Dean?
He can still feel them, can still acknowledge that they're there. But it's like they're sailing over his head, a broadcast for the rest of the world but not for him. When did that happen?
Dean feels a pull of something in his chest, something that he doesn't want to name, and he hurriedly tucks all these extra thoughts to the back of his mind, to think about later. For now, only one question matters.
Does he trust Cas?
Dean doesn't know whether to be surprised or not when the answer is a resounding yes.
"Yeah. I guess if you want to come then you can. I mean, you don't have to. This is Alastair, and he's probably going to want to sacrifice me or something."
"I am sure," Cas says so convincingly that Dean wonders how anyone can argue with him.
"Okay then, let's go."
Dean takes a deep breath and opens the door, the fact that the lock is missing another giveaway that Alastair wants people to be able to come in here. It squeaks loudly, and Dean winces slightly, knowing that Alastair would know they were here now.
He's deluding himself, thinking that the demon hadn't known that they were there.
Cas follows him silently, so silently that Dean looks behind him to see if Cas is still there. The angel's face is drawn and serious, and Dean shivers – he can see no way that it could be taken for human. There's a silver tri-blade in Cas's hand, and Dean looks at it curiously before turning back towards the dim hall. When he's faced with a choice of either upstairs or the basement, he chooses the stairs with no hesitation.
"What?" He asks peevishly when he looks around to see Cas looking at him inquiringly. "He thinks he's above everyone. He would choose upstairs so he could look over everyone and everything, and think himself master of it all."
Cas is apparently satisfied with this explanation, since he nods and motions for Dean to keep walking. Dean holds the knife out in front of him, walking down the hallway for the room that overlooks the street.
Opening the door slowly, Dean peers inside, and is only half surprised when he feels something connect with the back of his head.
Tan.
That's the first colour to register in Dean's head. He blinks several times, shakes his head and turns his face away from the heat of the flames from the circle that surrounds Cas. The angel is looking at him worriedly, and Dean feels something stir inside him, both at the concern aimed at him and the way that Cas is very obviously trapped.
"Finally awake Dean?" A nasally voice whines from the corner of the room.
Alastair has a light beard, ears that stand out from his head, and blood covering his arms up to his elbows. There's a body on the table in front of him, and Dean tries to ignore how the young girl's head is tilted towards him, her eyes wide and unbelieving, like she can't believe she had been killed.
Her intestines are casually laid out next to her, and as Dean watches Alastair reaches in and rips out her spleen, holding it up to his face and inspecting it before placing it next to her kidneys and the deftly coiled guts. Drops of blood splatter on the floor, almost like an afterthought.
"She was pretty wasn't she Dean-o?"
Dean purses his lips and looks towards Cas, who has not looked away from him, regarding him silently.
Sorry. Dean tries to send the message to the angel, and Cas inclines his head slightly.
"I bet you would have liked carving her up. You always did like them more. Prettier, I guess." Alastair's voice is grating on Dean's nerves, and he had only listened to several sentences spoken by the demon. He had picked the perfect host.
"The others aren't here yet, so we can have some time to catch up." Alastair drags a chair up and sits on it with the back towards Dean, his legs on either side, hands slowly dripping blood onto Dean's shoes. He tries to squirm away as much as he can, but the demon grins lewdly before scooting closer and making sure that he gets as much blood on Dean as he can manage.
"What cha been doin' Dean-o? Have you given in, maybe got a little bloody with some of the bodies they bought in? Or maybe you picked up some fresh meat yourself?" The demon leans even closer, and the hot wash of sulphuric breath drenches Dean for a moment, leaving him gasping. Cas takes half a step closer before giving the flames an aggravated look.
"And you picked up a pretty night light on your travels, huh? Where does a lowly hunter find an angel, let alone an angel who follows him around?"
"Cas doesn't follow me anywhere," Dean says, trying not to vomit from the stench that's making its way from the demon to his human senses.
"I don't know. He's clearly attached to you." Alastair traces his finger over his cheek, leaving a trail of blood.
Alastair cocks his head suddenly. "Well well well, looks like someone else is here. You got here fastest Dean, don't worry, you're still my favourite." Alastair pinches his cheek and stands up. "Better go let them in," he leers, making his way out of the room.
As soon as the door swings closed Dean turns to Cas. "Are you okay?" He coughs, looking the angel up and down, trying to ignore the stickiness of the blood coating his cheek from Alastair's fingers.
"Yes, of course. I am simply contained by the holy fire. It is very annoying."
"Yeah well I did warn you that he knew we were coming and that it was probably a trap."
"You would have walked in here anyway."
"Maybe," Dean concedes, looking away from Cas to the other side of the room, only to drop his eyes to the floor when he makes eye contact with the dead body.
"Is there any way we can get out of there?" Dean asks, trying to shove desperation deep down.
Cas narrows his eyes, looking around the room. "Can you get out of your bonds?" the angel asks.
"He took all my tools, but I can dislocate my thumbs to get out if I need to, although I'd rather not."
Cas nods, still looking around. "I have my angel blade, so there is nothing he can do to permanently harm me, unless he douses me in holy oil and sets me alight, which I doubt he'll do because he would not have enough and it would be unwise to waste it all on killing one angel."
"Reassuring," Dean mutters.
"Yes it is."
Dean narrows his eyes at Cas, who apparently doesn't see anything wrong with his statement.
The door opens again, and Alastair leads two people, a man and a woman, into the room. There's something off about each of them, something that Dean can't quite put his finger on.
"Looks like these two were travelling together, so let's get the party started, yeah?" Alastair grabs a ceremonial knife off the tray that's lying next the girl and wheels out a small table from the corner that's thankfully blood free. It doesn't stay that way for long, as Alastair slices the knife over the man's throat and uses the blood to paint a number of symbols on the table. Dean's never seen them before, but by the way that Cas flinches and turns his back on them, he's going to assume that they have some sort of significance.
Alastair throws the man's body over in the corner, and his gaping throat is like a second red smile, weeping blood, and Dean realises what was off about these people. They want to be here, and unlike him, they aren't operating under any threats. They just want to be here.
Alastair starts chanting over the symbols, and as he does he produces ingredients and plants from nowhere and places them into a bowl. He then snaps his fingers at the bowl and the whole thing catches on fire, and he keeps on chanting through it all, harsh sounds that sound cut off and incomplete, in a language that Dean has never heard before.
Cas looks like he's trying not to cover his ears, and he's watching Alastair with a single minded purpose. Dean is suddenly reminded of Cas's talk with Meg, how he wanted to know if she knew where something was, and how this looked like a locating spell.
Dean wonders if he would finally be able to figure out what the hell the angels want.
Alastair keeps chanting for another few minutes, and then suddenly Dean feels himself begin to feel light.
"Whoa, that's strange," he mumbles, and Cas shoots him a concerned look.
"Dean? What is happening?"
"Everything's getting shiny… and I feel light. Like, no weight."
Cas looks concerned for the moment longer that Dean can see his face before Cas suddenly becomes a blazing pillar of light. Dean turns his face away, and it seems that as long as he doesn't look at Cas he's alright. "Cas, turn down the light show, would you?"
The light that is Cas moves and swirls and Dean gets the feeling that it's confused, even if he can't see a scrap of the body that is Castiel.
The entire room had suddenly erupted in colours, the wood glowing a dark green, the glass a light yellow, the carpet a smoky red. When Dean looks at what Alastair is doing, he sees the smoke from the burnt ingredients trail off but a deep black smoke spread out and cover the roof of the room.
He can't see Alastair's body any more, only the moving black smoke that's the demon within, and the person behind the demon had a very dim glow that seemed to surround him.
This is weird.
The light that has taken over where Cas is standing is still there, and it seems to be in direct opposition to the darkness that is Alastair. Dean realises that he's probably seeing the essence of things, their souls maybe, and he wondered if this was what psychics lived with every day. No wonder Pamela said it could be overwhelming at times.
He can almost see the words as they leave Alastair's mouth, words of power doing powerful things, searching, finding, looking. Dean isn't sure what for, but he knows it's trying to discover the location of something.
When the demon stops, all the words arrange into an arrow, pointing south west, Dean thinks.
Alastair lets out an unamused sound. "Well that's not really any help," he says, then walks over to Dean, and without warning grabs one bound hand and slices the already bloody knife across his palm.
"I'd better not catch anything from that," Dean grunts, trying to focus on the demon in front of him and not the cold sizzle of pain making itself known through his hand and his arm.
He slices through the neck of the woman and gathers her blood in the bowl as well, before muttering more incantations over it. Dean's vision starts to return to normal, and he can bear to look at Cas again. Alastair takes a map out and holds it above the mixture, and it stains slowly, dark thick blood-like looking liquid dripping out of the page as all of it but a small section becomes unable to be used.
"Well looks like we have a destination, huh Dean? What do you say, want me to peel off that little tattoo and hop inside you again, go for a little spin, see what's happening out there? I know you miss it, I can see it in your eyes."
And a part of Dean wants it. Wants to say yes to Alastair, because he has missed being that close to someone, having someone control all your emotions and thoughts and feelings and being remade into something that someone likes and wants. But Dean takes that urge and shoves it down, looking the demon right in the eye and shaking his head.
"No thanks, I think I'll pass on this one."
Alastair leers over him, sending a wave of sulphur into his face. "If you're sure Dean-o… Of course I could just take you again. But that'd be counter to our course. I am willing, however, to maybe break you a little more…"
Dean sees Cas moving out of the corner of his eye, and tries to ignore it, not wanting Alastair to know that the angel was doing something.
"Hmm, yes, another few months is just what you need. I can see that you haven't broken yet, and you're probably not going to unless I do something. Not many people hold out you know."
Dean sees how Cas stamps out a small swath of fire with debris and carpet, how the angel disappears, and Dean has one moment to be rather shocked at how surprised he is that the angel would just abandon him here, before he feels the weight of a hand on his arm and then the sickening weightlessness of moving far too fast through space in too short a time, and he's standing in the office again, daylight streaming through the window, Uriel and Anna standing in the middle of the room surrounded by his friends and colleagues before he's throwing up, again.
Dean feels like he's emptied his guts more times in the last day than he has in the last ten years.
Dean holds an ice-pack to his head to try and calm his raging headache that Cas can't do anything about, since apparently it's a stress headache and would only come back. He had conjured the ice-pack though, and healed his palm. Dean's thankful for that.
He's answering the hundredth question about Alastair and Cas and what had happened when Cas suddenly moves next to him.
"Dean needs to leave now. He will answer any other questions that you have in the morning."
And before Dean can protest, or even turn around to look at Cas, there's a hand on his shoulder and his surroundings moved around him and he barely stops himself from throwing up again.
Instead he hangs limply off Cas, and damn it this had better not be happening again after this. Ever again. The ice-pack had fallen out of his hands and his head is beginning to throb.
"You need to sleep," Cas murmurs. Dean can't really argue with that. The flying alone would have taken it out of him.
"I really, really don't want to relive everything that's happened today Cas."
"I can cancel any dreams that you may have if you let me."
Dean grimaces. "The soul reaching thing?"
Dean can feel Cas's quiet amusement next to him. "Yes, the 'soul reaching thing.'"
"Fine," Dean grunts out. "Do it. Whatever."
Cas guides him over to the bed and then he's standing there with just his boxers on. "Handy," he murmurs quietly, too exhausted to have up any of the shields that he normally would have tight around him.
Maybe that's why when he looks up at Cas, he really… looks up at Cas.
The angel's eyes are wide and so fucking blue, shit, how did anybody have eyes that blue? Cas's arm is still around him, still supporting him and Dean didn't really mind, since there were no other people around. The angel had stopped trying to move him anywhere, and instead was simply just gazing back, studying Dean with that quiet intensity, which, like always, gave Dean the feeling that his layers were being peeled off so Cas could stare at his soul.
Dean's arm is around Cas as well and he suddenly had this feeling… like… he should put the other arm around Cas as well. And maybe convince the angel to wrap him up in both of his arms. And maybe just tilt his head down, ever so slightly, and just brush his lips up against Cas's, feel the dry skin there, rough the angel up a bit…
What the fuck?
Eyes widening, Dean leans away from Cas and shoves those thoughts far, far away, and lays down by himself thank you very much, and although he's a bit apprehensive over the whole baring your soul thing, he really doesn't want to relive today. He just hopes that Cas can't see the thought that just went through his head.
Cas gently lays two fingers on his forehead, and Dean feels his eyes closing against his will and then he's only dreaming of darkness.
Castiel watches as Dean's soul goes dormant. Making sure that the hunter would sleep for the next few hours at the very least, Castiel flies back to Heaven, reporting all that he learned about Alastair, Dean and the demon's plan that he had observed. He almost hid what he had learned about Dean, but felt that it was too big a lie, and that he couldn't keep that up while in front of Zachariah.
We must move quickly then. Gather Anael and your garrison to attack where the demons are gathered.
Castiel flies, reaching out for Anael.
Anael, the location of the demon is known to me. He sends out the location, feels Anael receive it. The garrison is prepared, yes?
Yes, they are now going to the location. Fly quickly brother.
He draws his sword as he flies, and listens to her battle plans, landing and immediately going to where Anael wants him to be.
Sariel slices away at demons beside him, and he is glad to have her there, as Sariel is one of the most dependable angels in the garrison. They fight against the horde, a pile of demons attempting to overwhelm the angel beside him, mistaking her young vessel as a weakness. Sariel throws them off, and Castiel burns several away.
There are no humans nearby, and Castiel almost considers abandoning his vessel as many of his siblings have, their true forms more effective than their vesseled ones, but the risk of losing his vessel stops him. Jimmy could wander away and be killed by a demon or even by another angel. He already has very few vessels compared to some of his brothers, so he stays inside. Sariel seems to be thinking along the same lines, staying in her vessel, her blonde hair flying as she hacks and stabs.
Castiel takes wing as he sees a demon trying to escape overhead, and Sariel follows him into the air, Castiel leading when no orders are coming through from Anael. They form a barrier across the western sky, allowing no demons to come through either way, to escape or to reinforce.
Anael's voice cuts through the vicious fighting. Castiel, you are needed. Uriel, take the western sky.
Castiel waits until he can feel Uriel flying towards them before darting down towards the underground temple. He can feel the force of the Enochian symbols that have been painted in blood around on the walls, but they can be ignored. Anael must have disabled the main sigil.
He quickly finds where Anael, Balthazar, Hestor, Rachel, Gesael and Treviel are fighting. As he watches, a demon slices through Gesael's form, and everyone flinches as the dying light and Grace of the angel explodes outwards, pausing the battle for a precious few seconds.
Castiel restarts it, lunging forwards and burning the demon clean away, and then launching himself at his next quarry. The demons are thick down there, in smoke form and human, and Rachel has abandoned her vessel so she can deal with the incorporeal demons. Her vessel is unconscious, and Castiel moves to protect her, batting off demons when they go for the human and killing all those who come near. Eventually he has to move on, but he would like to think that he gave the girl a better chance at surviving.
Following Anael, they all dive deeper into the temple, and Castiel is the first to run into the new set of Enochian warding. He bounces off it, and his siblings stop just in time to avoid it as Castiel curls up in a ball for a few seconds to wait out the pain. He stands as it passes, and the other angels are already throwing rocks and debris at the sigil they can see, and Castiel feels when the field fails. That is the disadvantage of drawing on your protection – normal things can disrupt it, unlike if the protection is built into the walls and foundation itself. Castiel thinks that this place did not start off as a demon stronghold. They must have just come for what is buried here.
Breaking through, the fly down levels, killing any demons they can see. Castiel can feel the battle on the surface, and feels it raging on. The one down here is no better. Treviel falls, and Castiel doesn't know where the demons are getting the angel blades, but he would find who it is and he would kill them.
There is no place for emotion here, and he can feel himself reverting to his base settings, his time with Dean being undone, and he revels in the feeling of nothing, until that too fades. He is a machine – and he is completing his purpose right here, right now.
Castiel can feel Alastair, and feels the muted rage come through, for daring to trap him. He would kill this demon, for all that he did to Castiel, and for all that he did to Dean, today and five years ago.
As they reach the lower levels the demons become more powerful, and Castiel can feel as Anael calls for reinforcements. Ramiel, Westiel, Forleal, Leafeal, Haviel, Yael and Hael answer, which leaves Uriel, Sariel, Vaveal, Xaeal, Jameal, Lachliel, Iveal, Samandriel, Desiel, Omichel and Poliel on the surface. The two others in their garrison who aren't there are on their way, but they are the only ones not here. It is up to the angels already here to finish the battle, and the garrison is going to win.
The more powerful demons have angel blades, and Castiel finds himself fighting demons that could kill him, which is not something that he has to deal with very often. He is glad that he is one of the best swordsmen they have, especially when they reach a wave of demons and Castiel feels five of his siblings fall around him.
As they wind their way through the corridors, and more of his siblings voices rise for the last time, Castiel vows that he will not be one of them.
He kills a demon before it has the chance to stab Anael. Finally reaching a resting point, Castiel looks around. There are seven angels remaining – Castiel, Hael and Haviel the only ones left who were not in the original wave.
Calming himself, Castiel clears his head, ready for the fighting when it begins again. There is a gash on his upper arm, and Castiel breathes through the pain it is radiating. Hael is more cut up than he is, and she heals as much as she can, before she depletes too much of her Grace.
Anael has a deep slice going from the top of her leg to her ankle, and it is pouring Grace. Castiel is glad that there are no demons around, because she would have difficulty defending herself.
Rachel lends some Grace, and Castiel walks over to give her some of his as well. Shrieking out in pain, Anael grits her teeth as it slowly closes.
She collapses on the floor, Castiel orders the other angels to form a defensive perimeter around the room, and they are so far into the angelic mindset that they obey without thinking. Castiel has to keep some control in order to give orders, and Anael even more. A minute passes and she opens her eyes, and Castiel sees her Grace flare up weakly.
Fly out, he orders her. You are in no condition to fight. I will lead without you.
Anael doesn't look happy but she wings her way upwards, and Castiel orders the other angels forwards with him, taking point position as leader. If he falls then Rachel is set to take over, but Castiel is not dying here today.
Breaking into the basement, Haviel is stabbed, and Castiel leads the charge towards where he can see Alastair now, and cuts down all of the demons he can see in his path.
The five angels cut a swath through the demons, and then Castiel is facing off against Alastair, feeling the enormity of the demon in front of him, using every trick and skill that he had in order to just stay alive. Alastair is fast, and Castiel is one of the fastest angels that are in existence.
Flying around the demon, he tries to get a fatal blow in, but Alastair is too fast, and he feels frustration welling. When he is knocked into a wall, he extracts himself, but Alastair is already gone, and so have most of the other demons in the room, barring the blackened vessels and dark smoke.
The other four angels are not severely injured, and Castiel tries to trace the demons, but they've all disappeared to his senses. Biting back an angry sound, he motions for the other angels to follow him to the surface.
The demons have retrieved what the angels had been after. There is a large plinth, and it had been empty. The key had been taken.
All the demons have fled from above ground as well, and Castiel calls a head count. Where there had been twenty six angels in the garrison, now there are only fifteen remaining, a massive blow.
Rachel acts as his second in command, and Balthazar hers. They clean the area, obliterating any demonic traces, and taking the vessels of the angels who had left their vessels safely away. Anael is still recovering, as are many angels that had been injured. Sending them to Heaven to rest, Castiel is left with four uninjured angels, including Uriel and Samandriel.
He sends them to try and track the demons, as hopeless as that chore is. He then follows his siblings to Heaven. Making himself known to Zachariah, Castiel reports what had happened.
To his surprise, Zachariah isn't sorrowful about the fallen angels, but instead he is angry that Castiel let the demons escape and take the piece of the key.
We are lucky that there are any angels who escaped. There were many demons there, and many powerful ones.
I do not care that there were many demons! You know that the key is important, and you, the leading officer at the time, let it fall into demon hands!
Castiel lowers himself in deference, disliking it, but hiding that part of himself from Zachariah. It is regrettable that the demons retrieved the piece, but there was nothing we could do. They already had the piece by the time we arrived.
So your information came too late?
Castiel feels his wings drawing in and up against his will, showing that he is intimidated and frightened by the older and more powerful angel, and he hates how they show his weakness.
Yes, it came too late. Castiel had been taking care of Dean at the time, and although he had Anael gather their garrison in preparation, he had taken the time for Dean, only leaving when he knew that no more time could be wasted.
Zachariah is radiating displeasure, and he finally speaks again. There needs to be punishment for this Castiel. You gave the information too late and you were the one leading after Anael could not continue, so you will be the one punished.
Castiel's wings tremble against his body. I understand, Zachariah.
And he does. But Zachariah makes sure the message is received clearly anyway.
Dean spends Christmas in DC with Sam and Jess.
He manages to convince Rufus to let him leave, mainly because there's been no proper hunts since taking out the vampire nest in Colorado. Dealing with Alastair didn't count.
Jess and Sam are ecstatic to have him, even though Jess only has two months left until the baby's born. Dean insists on doing most of the cooking, shooing out Jess whenever she tries to poke her head into the kitchen.
The time away from his job give him time to relax without looking around every corner for Cas. The angel hadn't shown up ever since he had gained Dean's permission to mess around with his head and the whole clusterfuck with Alastair.
Dean isn't missing him. He's grateful when Rufus lets him leave for Christmas. But sometimes he'll find himself waiting for the rustle of feathers, or he'll say something sarcastic and expect a very literal response. The angel had wormed his way into Dean's mind, and Dean is very disgruntled to realise that he is firmly in there after such a short period of time.
What he does miss is how Cas can make him sleep without having any dreams. Since Ohio, they had gotten ten times worse, and Dean can only attribute that to seeing Alastair again. The kickback from them had gotten worse as well, and Dean would suddenly come back to himself, and realise that he'd been checking all the wards in his apartment obsessively for the last five minutes, ready to rip apart anything that moved. Pamela's herbs aren't working either. Dean is running out of them, and they're just making it harder for him to wake up, trying to keep him in the dark place his dreams had become. But just for a few days, while he's here, he's trying to ignore all of that.
He's wrapped up all of the many baby brochures for Jess, and he has a piece of paper for Sam saying that he can drag Dean up here if he isn't on a case and he can clear it with Rufus for painting rooms, babysitting, whatever Sam needs with the baby on its way. Dean isn't sure that anyone could be more nervous than he is over it.
Dean makes the food, and in his opinion it isn't too bad, but with the quality of the ingredients and the appliances that were more hi-tech than most of what Dean owns, it would have been harder to wreck the food than cook it well.
Jess and Sam compliment him on it, and Dean smiles and eats his. It is one of the more decent meals he's cooked, and he enjoys it, but not as much as Jess and Sam's company.
Jess leaves for bed early, and Dean and Sam sit in the lounge room and talk, catching up on each other's lives, random small talk that's the norm between people who know each other extremely well. Dean's seen Bobby, Ellen and Bill more recently than Sam has, so he tells him how they're doing and about how Jo is extremely nervous about her course. Sam laughs in the right places, and then asks about how the angels are doing.
Dean sighs, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, or maybe he means to look beyond that and into the clouds. "It's… weird. The angels all have different personalities, and some suck, but Anna and Cas are cool. I haven't really interacted with Samandriel all that much, and their leader seems… business like."
"So you're partnered with Cas right?"
"Yeah, Cas is okay. He kind of saved me from getting killed by werewolves though, so that's a point in his favour."
Sam looks worried, and asks about the werewolves. Dean tells him the whole story, including the run in with Alastair, finishing with flashing Sam the brand. Sam stares at it for a minute before he says anything.
"Wow, Dean… wow. A miracle. Do you know how lucky you are?" He doesn't bring up Alastair, but Dean can see the worry etched into his face.
"That's what Charlie said," Dean grumbles, pulling his shirt back on.
"Well Charlie's right. I don't think you appreciate what's happening in your life right now Dean. Not many people have the chance to interact with angels. We only know they're real because Bobby knew a hunter who saw one fighting some demons once, and when we looked at the possibility that they were real, we started finding clues everywhere. And when you joined the FBI and then they confirmed it, and then you had Bobby get the word out to the hunting community… Do you remember the summer of 06? Turmoil and unrest everywhere, two sides of those who believed and those who didn't… It only ended when that blonde girl appeared in the middle of a gathering and said that angels were real, and proceeded to kill that demon who was hiding inside Lachlan… Crazy times, but who would have guessed that you would be working with them?"
Dean shrugs. "It's not that different."
Sam casts a sceptical look at him. "Except he can heal you from the brink of death and can transport you across the country in half a second."
"Yeah, but he doesn't feel like an angel Sammy. Just like a normal dude who has appalling social skills. It's only when he busts out some moves that I remember."
Sam narrows his eyes at him and Dean leans back. "What?" He asks, and he can't help the defensive tone to his voice.
Sam just shrugs. "And you were criticising me for trusting Madison," he comments neutrally.
"Hey, that is different," Dean tells Sam. "Cas is working with me and has proved that he's not going to hurt anyone. Madison turned up out of nowhere and only helped us to save her own ass."
Sam nods. "Yeah, sure."
"Hey." Dean can hear the innocent overlay in Sam's voice. "It is different."
Sam looks up from where he had been staring at his hands. "I'm sure it is Dean."
Dean scowls. Sam is implying something, and he knows it. Deciding to change track, he starts to tell Sam how there have been no cases for a month, and how everyone is getting antsy.
"The SPN team in Montreal can come and handle the cases that are up north on the east coast, even if they're Canadian. The bosses won't let us go for some salt and burns, and the ones they don't grab we send to Bill. But, seriously Sammy. Nothing. No cases. It's driving us up the walls."
"Hey, I'm sure you'll find something. And if you don't, then you could ask Rufus if you can go and help with the search and find division."
Dean pauses. "That isn't a bad idea. I'll have to ask Rufus when we get back."
Sam smiles. "Yeah, it should keep you occupied for a week or two until a proper case comes up." Sam looks over at the time. "We better get to sleep, or we'll be awake on Christmas as soon as it starts."
"That's not always a bad thing Sammy," Dean says, leaning back in his chair. "I've had some good stuff happen to me on Christmas Eve."
Sam shoots him A Look. "Dean, appropriate conversation only please. The baby's old enough to have ears."
Dean sighs. "Okay then Sam. Appropriate conversation only."
Sam huffs out a breath of laughter. "If my kid's swearing before she can walk, I'm blaming you."
"She?" Dean asks, picking up on the slip.
Sam has a deer in the headlights look for about three seconds. "I wasn't meant to tell anyone," he grumbles.
Dean laughs. "So you know that's a girl?"
Sam looks up at him, and a sweet little smile comes out. "Yeah, we've known for a few weeks." Sam smiles wider, grinning at his brother. "I'm going to have a little girl."
Dean can feel his own grin matching his brothers. "Yeah, you are. Have you decided on a name yet?"
Sam shakes his head. "We're debating over names. Jess has several, and I have a few, and we're eliminating them slowly. We still have another two months or so, she's due at the end of February. Jess just wants it all over with, I think. She just wants her in her arms already."
Dean holds in a grin at Sam's wistful and adoring tone. "The time will fly. Before you know it, you're going to have her. No use wishing it away."
"That's what you've been telling me for years Dean. I think I've got the message."
"Have you? Even now, think of how long it's been since I first told you that, and ask yourself if it feels like that much time has passed."
There's a pause, and Sam furrows his brow. "I never thought it would be you teaching me life lessons."
"It's in the job description of an older brother. I kinda have to do it. The four year gap compels me. I just have more life experience than you."
They both sober for a moment as they think about just how much life experience Dean has.
"Anyway," Sam continues, after a pause. "I'm going to sleep."
Dean nods and watches as his younger brother walks up the stairs. He goes and digs Pamela's herbs out of his bag, and lets them rest in the water of a glass for ten minutes. Drinking the liquid, he makes a face at the taste and rinses out his glass in the sink. He doesn't want anything in it to somehow get to Jess – who knows what it would do to her and the baby.
He walks to the room that he sleeps in when he stays here, and pulls the covers up around him to fend off the icy cold of the night. It's much colder here than in Phoenix, and Dean can feel the bite of the chill.
Even as he shivers, the bed warms, and eventually he has a small nest of warmth, and he can feel the drug in his system calming him and putting him to sleep.
Dean wakes when he hears the door of his room open. He turns to see Sam standing there, knowing not to enter until Dean sees him and acknowledges him. Dean grunts and sits up.
"What time is it?" Dean drawls out slowly. There's no clock in the room, one of his only hang ups about the house.
"It's just after nine. Jess and I have been up for an hour, but we didn't want to disturb you. You don't usually sleep long. Or at all." Dean can hear the questioning tone, and knew that Sam would want to know why, especially after he had told him about Alastair last night. That would mean more nightmares, not less.
He rubs a hand over his face, feeling the stubble scrape over his palm. "Yeah, Pamela gave me some stuff to help me sleep. It's not bad, but leaves me feeling a bit groggy, and it doesn't do anything for the dreams. Just makes it harder to wake up."
Sam furrows his brow. "What stuff? Pills?"
Dean groans. "God Sam, no. Just some leaves that I drink every night. Some psychic stuff I suppose. I trust Pam, okay? She's not trying to poison me or some shit like that."
Sam is still frowning. "Hey, don't let this get you down," Dean chastises. "It's Christmas."
Sam sighs and smiles slightly. "I just get worried about you Dean."
Dean laughs, swinging his legs out of bed and standing up, stretching his hands above his head and probably showing his stomach as he did. Sam is watching him amusedly as Dean walks over to rummage around in his bag for some clean clothes. "There's some food out here when you're ready," he says as he leaves.
Dean takes his time as he shaves and showers. There's cold pancakes and Dean helps himself to a few, pouring maple syrup over them. Not bothering with cutlery, Dean wanders into the lounge room, where Sam is sitting on the floor and Jess is laying on the couch.
Suddenly feeling a bit sheepish, Dean sits on the single chair that's left. "Sorry for keeping you."
Jess raises an eyebrow. "I'm just glad you're sleeping. Even if you're taking something to help with it."
Dean sighs. "It's just something from Pamela. Not a big deal."
Jess is still regarding him with a sceptical look. Dean frowns at her slightly, and she shakes herself. "Anyway, merry Christmas!" She says, and Dean smiles. They exchange greetings and gifts. Jess looks so excited by the baby brochures that Dean thinks that she might run to her computer and start shopping right now. Sam looks at his slip of paper and then gets up and hugs Dean.
"Whoa, Sammy, it's okay."
Sam continues to hug him for another few seconds before releasing him. "Thanks Dean," he says, and Dean knows that he really means it.
Sam gives Dean a record in an unmarked sleeve. When Dean slides it open there's a pristine record inside, almost new looking. He flips it over, and stares for a moment at the Led Zeppelin logo, with the words 'Ramble On' written in sharpie just large enough so that you could see it.
"Sam…" Dean says, looking at the record. He owns a record player, and Sam knows that, but he had never been able to find this song before.
"I know you had a record player, but you didn't have that song, and Adam owned it, and didn't really want it, since it had been his mum's, so he was happy to sell it to me."
Dean just shakes his head, thanking whoever is listening that Sam exists.
Jess gives him a scarf and matching gloves, proudly telling him that she had knitted them herself. Dean tries them on, and is surprised by how warm they are.
"They're also non-reflective, fireproof, waterproof and don't conduct electricity," she says, looking at the garments fondly.
"How did you manage that?" Dean asks, shocked. Jess does knit, he knows that, but all of the other things… How had she swung that?
Jess blushes slightly and looks down. "Sam gave me the number of a psychic named Missouri. She told me how to weave some different herbs and plants into the material, and what to say to make it work."
"And it does work," Sam adds. "I tried setting fire to it when she had it done, and nearly burned down our kitchen instead. If it gets any sparks on it then they just kind of fling off into your paper towel rack."
Dean laughs at the thought of Sam and Jess frantically running around the kitchen, trying to put out a fire.
They eat a large lunch, and Sam and Jess surprise him by pulling out a pie that they had gone out and bought from their local baker, who apparently baked beautifully. After tasting the pie, Dean had no choice but to agree with the statement.
They round out the day with Dean and Sam cooking the dinner, shooing Jess out of the kitchen whenever she found a 'task' that she had to do in the kitchen and tried to help them.
The dinner tastes great, and they settle down in the large lounge room, and turn on a Christmas movie that's just starting. Dean commentates it, and Jess and Sam fling popcorn at him when he says something that they don't approve of.
Just before they go to bed after the movie ends, Dean makes everyone hot chocolate. He resolves to steal the box that they had in their kitchen, because this stuff is divine, and looked like some expensive French brand or something.
Jess calls it a night early, saying that she's tired. Sam helps her up to their room, and then comes back down to help Dean do the dishes. They talk while they work, inconsequential things made important by the time and place that they're spoken. After the whole house it spotless – and it takes quite a while to pick up all the popcorn on the ground in the living room – Sam bids Dean good night.
"Merry Christmas Dean," Sam says, smiling softly.
"Merry Christmas Sam," Dean replies. Sam leaves, and Dean drops off as soon as he reaches his bed, not needing Pamela's herbs, content and tired from the day he had just had.