Alastair grins at him, running a knife down his face and opening up a shallow cut.
"Dean, Dean, Dean. What am I going to do with you?"
Dean struggles, trying to get out of the chains that bind him, but it's no use. He is stuck, right where the demon wants him to be. "Stop, please," he begs. "Don't do anything else."
His body is already pulsating with hurt from the knife's tracks. Alastair laughs at him.
"You don't want me to hurt you anymore, hmm Dean-o? Well okay then, whatever you wish. How about, I hurt him instead?"
Alastair pushes a chair in front of him, where Dean can see it. The silver chains that bind the man are inscribed with Enochian, the type that binds. Blue eyes look at him from above a taped over mouth.
Dean starts struggling. "No!" He screams, trying to get out of the chains, trying to move, trying to do anything.
"Nuh-uh-uh. You said you didn't want to taste my blade anymore Dean," Alastair says in his nasally voice. "But I want to hurt someone, and if it isn't going to be you, then it's going to be him."
Dean screams in protest as the first cuts are made to Cas. Instead of bleeding blood, he bleeds blueish-white light, half blinding Dean. Cas's eyes light up in pain, because Alastair's knife has turned into an angel blade.
"Stop it!" Dean screeches, and it's the effort he puts into the shout that wakes him up.
Dean pants, his head in his hands, trying to process what had just happened. He had thought that his nightmares were over, but Cas hadn't been around that much lately, tending to his angelic duties. He must have forgotten about Dean tonight, which meant that he had dreamt.
Dean shudders, trying to rid himself of the remnants of imaginings that his brain had called up. He's lying in a pool of his own sweat, and it's the disgustingness of it that finally gets him to move.
He drags himself out of the too large bed and stumbles into his bathroom. He turns the shower on and sits under its spray. Gradually, it wakes him up, and he blinks, getting the water out of his eyes.
He comes to the realisation that he had dreamed about Alastair torturing Cas. He quakes, curling into a ball. He had only dreamt about Sam, Bobby, Ellen or Jo under the knife before. His closest family. No one else.
What did that mean?
He has an urge to pray for Cas, but just as he's about to, he realises that he's sitting naked in his shower. It probably wouldn't send the right message.
He sighs. He hadn't dealt with the crippling fear his dreams brought in a while. He was out of practise with them. The fact that he had been in a place at one time where he had dealt with them nearly every night seems crazy to him now.
He rubs his hands through his hair, trying to dispel the light headache. It doesn't work, and he's not surprised when it grows, hammering on the inside of his skull. He drops his head to his knees, and hopes that the hot water isn't going to run out any time soon, because he doesn't want to move.
"Are you alright?"
Dean's head jerks up, and he stares at the angel in his bathroom.
"Cas, what the fuck are you doing in here? Get out!" Dean yells, feeling blood rush to his cheeks as he scrambles to get out of the sight of the angel. Unfortunately, the shower has few hiding places.
Cas's face turns concerned before he disappears. Dean stares at the place the angel had been occupying for another few seconds before he yanks the shower off, and dries himself hurriedly. He hadn't brought any clothes into the bathroom: why would he? It's his apartment, and it wasn't like he was expecting company, especially in the form of the angel who had been haunting his dreams.
He ties off the towel around his waist and leaves the bathroom. Cas isn't in the kitchen or the living room, and it's another minute before Dean realises that the angel probably took 'get out,' as leave the apartment.
"Oh my god, I meant the bathroom, not the apartment!" Dean says to the empty room.
There's a whoosh of feathers, and Dean doesn't have to turn around to know that the angel is standing behind him.
Dean turns, giving the angel his best glare. "Why the fuck are you here, Cas? You don't just interrupt someone while they're showering!"
Cas blinks, and he still looks confused, damn it, why is his confused face so attractive? Dean pushes the thought to the side, but it keeps poking him, demanding attention. He also tries to ignore the one that's imagining blue and white light pouring out from gashes in his skin.
"I…" Cas trails off, and Dean's blush returns as Cas gives him a once over. What on earth is happening right now?
Dean raises his eyebrows, prompting a continuance of the explanation. "I felt that you were in distress, so I came." Cas's eyes trail over his body, and Dean knows his face is red right now. Why didn't he put on a shirt before calling Cas back?
"You are not hurt?" The angel asks. "It felt like you were hurt."
"I'm fine," Dean grunts.
Cas's eyes go wide. "Did you dream?" Dean doesn't answer, staring the angel down. "Dean, I am sorry. I had to organise a raid, and it took longer than I thought it would. A few days, and then the actual raid itself, which did not end well." Dean took a moment to look Cas over. The angel seems fine, which allays some of his fears. "I was resting when I felt your soul calling out, so I flew here." Cas looks tired and worried. Dean sighs.
"Cas. Look at me." Cas does, and Dean fights down the appreciation he has of those eyes. He's wearing only a towel right now, and the awkward would only continue to grow – if that was possible – if he got a boner. It's something that he does not need right now.
"First, never go into a bathroom while someone's showering. Unless you think they're being killed. And you have to be really, really sure they're being killed. It's just not something you do, okay?" The angel blinks before nodding slowly. "And secondly, I am fine. I don't need your fancy mojo to help me sleep. You can go."
Cas pauses with his mouth open, and Dean curses inwardly. "What?"
"I am tired. I used up my remaining energy to fly here." Dean finally sees the angel blade in the angel's hand. Something pulls at his heart. Cas flew here, with no reserves, fresh from a fight, ready to defend him against whatever he was facing off against.
"Tired? Like, sleep tired?"
Cas rubs a hand over his eyes. "Not quite, but it is the closest thing that I can correlate it to."
"So, you need to recharge your batteries?"
Cas frowns, but nods. "I suppose."
"Fine. You can crash here."
They hover for another few seconds before Dean goes to get changed. Cas is still standing in the same place he left him when he comes back out, but now Dean is facing him in boxers and a shirt, which makes him feel more secure. He goes to his liquor cabinet, planning to try and pass out to get some more sleep. He's about to open a bottle when there's a hand on top of his, stopping the movement.
Dean turns his head, looking at the angel. "What the hell Cas? Let me drink."
Cas shakes his head. "No." He takes the bottle out of Dean's grasp, and begins pulling him back to the bedroom. "You are going to sleep the natural way."
Dean digs his heels in. "I can't sleep after dreaming Cas," he says. "I can't."
Cas pushes him in the room, then onto the bed. "Yes, you are. I will be in the living room, and if you try to get past me, I will know."
Dean is tired, and it's more than the dream that's making him this way. He's tired of trying to hide something for months on end, and it's stopping now. Maybe he'll regret it in the morning, but he needs it now.
"Stay."
Cas looks at him startled. Dean hopes he hasn't misjudged the angel. "Stay here."
Cas hesitates. Dean says something before he can move.
"And you cannot sleep like that. You are not staying in this apartment if you don't take off some layers."
Cas looks flustered, but Dean blinks and he's standing there in a lot less clothes than a second ago. He has a shirt on that Dean recognises as his, from his drawer, and in a pair of boxers that Dean's never seen before. He's going to assume that the vessel was wearing them when he possessed him. Dean feels a twinge of regret for the guy before he banishes it. Those thoughts don't belong here.
Cas slowly sits down on the side of the bed. Dean moves over to make more room, and suddenly his bed seems just the right size. Not too big anymore. Even if it is kinda gross from the dried sweat, but Dean can live with that.
Cas lays down on his back, and Dean shuffles over a bit more, getting comfortable. He has no desire to sleep, but Cas is soon breathing deeply, and Dean knows that the angel is the closest to sleep that he's ever going to get.
He watches Cas, feeling like the tables have turned, until he falls asleep as well.
/
Dean buries his nose into the soft, nice smelling hair in front of him. He doesn't want to wake up.
He moves so he's more firmly pressed up to the lean body in front of him, not that he has shift much. Dean has always been someone who would drag the other person he was sharing a bed with towards him, whether it be Sam or someone who he had stayed the night with after having sex, which doesn't happen often. Dean is a cuddler, although he would never admit it out loud. He moves a hand to loop around the other person's middle, pulling him back towards him. He nudges his legs forward so they're against his, with one leg gently pushing its way in between his thighs. He pushes his leg up slowly as far as he can before rubbing it a little back and forth, sighing happily. That's much better. He can feel the soft skin of the back of his neck against his lips, the long slope of his back against his front, and the very nice sensation of an ass moving against his dick every time either of them shifts.
Dean drowses for another few minutes, but his body eventually tells him that it's had enough sleep. He opens an eye blearily, looking at the time. His clock says that it's Saturday, and just after nine. His open curtains are letting through the sun, and that's probably what woke him.
The other person moves slightly, and Dean freezes. His attention is drawn back to him, and he gazes at Cas silently.
The angel is still sleeping, or at least the angelic equivalent, but if the small movements that he's making are any clue, then Dean guesses he's about to wake up.
Dean gently presses his fingers down in a rhythmic motion before sliding them away, and taking his leg out from between the angel's as well. He gets out of the bed as silently as he can manage, and walks to the door, yawning. Turning in the doorway, he leans against the wall, watching Cas silently.
The angel's face is serene, and with the covers of the bed pulled up to his chin, Dean can't see anything that he knows Cas is wearing. His imagination fills in the blanks for him, so that Cas is lying there, tired after a night of fucking, not fighting in some battle. He wouldn't be wearing anything, of course, and the shadow over his neck isn't from the sheet, it's a bruise that Dean had sucked onto his skin.
Dean takes a deep breath in and holds it, shutting his eyes. Without opening them, he turns and walks out to his kitchen to make something for breakfast.
He opens his fridge, looking at what is in there. He pulls out some eggs and bacon after a minute of deliberation, and throws them into a pan on the stovetop. He turns the gas on and sighs as they start cooking almost immediately.
What had he been thinking, to ask Cas to sleep with him?
Obviously, he hadn't been thinking at all. A sneaking sense of guilt goes through him. He had no right to touch the angel's body in the way that he had, without his consent or knowledge. He sets his jaw as he cooks. Just because he had been treated like shit in the majority of his first sexual encounters doesn't mean he had to imitate them. Making the resolution to not touch Cas again until he is certain that the angel understands what Dean is doing and wants it is hard, but it's better than the alternative.
Dean is turning over the eggs when he hears a sound behind him.
"Good morning Cas," he says quietly, knowing that the angel can hear him. "I made you some bacon and eggs. Pretty sure that you haven't tried that yet, and let me tell you, you are missing out on the real Heaven."
"I do miss my home recently. I have not been able to go back for some weeks." Cas's voice is quiet as well, and rougher than usual. Dean looks over his shoulder to see him, and feels his stomach flip. If he thought Cas had had sex hair before, well, that idea is well and truly gone now in the face of what he's looking at right now. "But I doubt that food can make up for it."
Cas looks up at him with large blue eyes when Dean crosses the room to him. The urge to kiss him rises up, but he squashes it, like he has over the past few weeks. They had gone on two hunts, flushing out an entire vamp nest between them, and Cas had helped him figure out where a witch had been selling cursed objects on the black market. The angel is pretty damn useful, but Dean had treasured the moments between the action the most, when Cas would ask him about human things, and Dean would explain them, watching as understanding grew in the angel's eyes. He liked it when Cas would be in the room when he finally was able to sleep, and was still there in the morning. He liked it less when Cas left to do something Heavenly, or to do with his garrison. Dean had been able to figure out that Anna hadn't come back yet.
Dean smiles softly instead of looping his arms around Cas like he wants to, and Cas tilts his head slightly.
The smell of food burning brings him back to himself. He looks away from Cas and hurriedly moves to where the eggs are trying to blacken and curl. Dean curses under his breath as he turns them, and hears Cas moving quietly towards him. He tries not to think of how long they must have been staring at each other. The angel observes him as he flips the eggs and bacon and puts the bread in the toaster.
Dean pulls out two plates and slides the food onto them. "Here."
Cas takes the plate and the cutlery Dean gives him a second later. They move towards the table, and Cas's chair moves out without the angel having to touch it. Dean frowns at the angel for a second, but Cas just shrugs.
Dean doesn't start eating in favour of watching Cas take his first bite. The angel had mastered the art of the knife and fork a month ago, and now he picks them up, looking at the plate with a thoughtful look on his face, as if he is considering the best way to eat the food in front of him.
Dean watches with amusement as Cas gets a triangle of toast and dips it in the egg yolk before cutting off a piece of bacon and then eating it. His blue eyes widen, and Dean smiles as he chews quickly, already cutting another slice off.
"No need to rush it Cas. Take your time."
Cas frowns, but eats the rest of his breakfast at the same rate that Dean does. When they're finished, Cas follows him to the kitchen, where he piles their plates in the sink and puts the jug on to boil. He gets out two cups, already knowing that Cas would want some coffee.
After he's finished making the coffee, Dean meanders over towards his couch, sinking down on it gratefully. Cas sits down next to him, and Dean feels the air between them change slightly. He sips his coffee, trying to avoid acknowledging the tension.
"Your batteries fine?"
Cas nods, sipping his coffee. "Yes. Thank you for letting me stay here last night. It is nice to be somewhere safe."
Dean bites back the question about Heaven being safe. "That's good. Good that you know that here is safe."
Cas's eyes widen slightly. "Yes, I helped with the sigils, and you keep them up and –"
"That isn't what I'm talking about Cas."
That seems to silence the angel for a few minutes. He stares into his cup like it has all the answers that he needs.
"Did you sleep well, anyway?"
"I did not sleep. Angels do not sleep."
Dean raises an eyebrow. "So what, you knew everything that was happening around you all the time?"
Cas pauses. "When I had recovered enough to, then yes, I did."
"And when was that?" Dean asks, a curl of worry twirling in his stomach.
"Before you woke up," Cas says softly. "I was going to leave, but then you stirred."
Well shit.
Dean can feel his cheeks heating, and he hates it, hates it, hates it.
"So, you, um," Dean stumbles over the words, the sounds not coming out the right way.
"Yes." Cas says simply. "What was your meaning, behind asking me to stay?"
Dean halts. "I, ah, just wanted you to be safe. And I didn't think that I would be able to sleep anyway, because I dreamt, so I thought that I could make sure nothing happened to you…"
Cas's eyes are soft. "Nothing can get in here Dean," he reminds him gently.
Dean shrugs awkwardly. "Yeah, well, you looked kinda out of it."
Cas looks at him for several minutes, and Dean tries not to look at him, but feels his gaze being drawn back every time.
"Sorry. For that." Dean doesn't think he's been more embarrassed, ever. And he just feels like he should be saying sorry. He doesn't feel that sorry, really. Just sorry that Cas might not have liked it. But if the angel hadn't protested, even though he had been awake, then what did that mean? Did Cas not know what to do? Had he wanted to avoid an awkward situation? Or had he liked it?
Cas knows what he's talking about. "No. Don't be," Cas says softly, looking away from Dean. "It was… pleasant." Cas blushes, and Dean watches in fascination as the soft pink travels across the angel's cheeks.
"Ahh, good then. I mean, not good, but good but…" Dean stops rambling before he can say something he'll regret. Cas liked it. Fuck. As if Dean needs anything else to keep him up at night.
Cas smiles quickly, ducking his head.
"Are you sticking around?"
Cas shakes his head, looking back up at him, and Dean tries not to get lost in that sea of blue. "No, I need to make sure that all of my angels are well from the battle."
"Oh. Okay," Dean says, trying not to let disappointment creep into his voice.
Cas nods, and they finish their coffee. The angel bids him goodbye, and Dean tries not to stare for too long at the empty space he leaves behind.
/
Castiel wakes before Dean does. The hunter is against his back, and Castiel is on his side. He frowns, since he does not move while resting. Perhaps Dean had encouraged him to roll over.
Castiel tests his energy reserves, and they are well on their way to being replenished. A little roll of satisfaction goes through his Grace to know that he would soon be able to perform at his usual capabilities.
The sun is warming the skin of his vessel, and he is about to turn around to look at Dean when the human moves. Castiel does not stir, unsure of what to do. Dean's arm curls around his stomach and he shuffles forward the extra few inches to be pressed up fully against Castiel's back. Castiel does not do anything when Dean's leg pushes its way between his own. It sends a little thrill of heat through him, centring around his lower stomach. Dean's leg slowly pushes upwards, and Castiel allows it, confused at the feelings he was experiencing. It rubs decisively against him, and Castiel has to force himself not to make a sound, although his breath catches as the heat spreads throughout his body.
With his heart beating at a faster tempo than normal, Castiel swallows quietly. Dean's lips move against his neck, and his grip on Castiel tightens, pulling him more firmly against him. The human keeps him there for another few minutes, and Castiel tries to figure out what is happening. His heart is beating harder than normal, so he can feel it rushing through certain areas of his body. Dean seems to smell better than he usually does, and he wishes that Dean's hand was not as low as it is, sitting under his shirt and beneath his belly button, right over where the heat is gathering. But at the same time he wants it lower, and the conflicting wants and urges are confusing him to an even greater degree.
He keeps his eyes closed, not wanting Dean to know he is awake. After a few more minutes, Dean sighs softly, and Castiel shivers slightly when the exhalation goes across his skin. Dean flexes his body, stretching it, and Castiel can feel it even through the layers of cloth separating them. Dean's hand presses into his skin, and Castiel fights down the urge to move when he drags his fingertips over his stomach. His leg slowly slides out from between Castiel's, and the angel has the feeling that Dean thinks he is sleeping, and does not want to wake him.
Dean hovers in the doorway for a minute after he gets up before he leaves. Castiel feels the ripple of emotion go through the bond that they share, but there are too many factors for him to know what emotion was the dominating one. Castiel opens his eyes and licks his lips, staring at where Dean has just been standing.
What had that been about? He had been confused when Dean had asked him to stay last night, and even more when Dean wanted him to stay in his bed. Had Dean wanted him there, truly? Castiel knows that he was distressed enough for his soul to call out for him last night. He places his own palm hesitantly over where Dean's had been, but there is no response. He is simply touching his stomach. It does not raise the shivers and the heat that Castiel can still feel rolling around in his belly, and the urge to touch Dean back is still there. He should discount that, because he wants to touch Dean most of the time, but this is a different sort of touching, Castiel is sure. He shifts uneasily, wondering about his emotions. His Grace turns over unhappily, and he growls at it. He can have emotions if he wants to. And he does want to.
He decides that he is too inexperienced with emotions to understand fully what had happened, but he does spend some time thinking about it. He determines that he liked what just happened, and perhaps he wants more touching of that kind in the future. He will ask Dean about the encounter to fully grasp his feelings and thoughts on the subject.
Castiel pushes back the covers and stands. He briefly looks at his clothes that are stacked neatly in a corner, but chooses not to put them on. Dean had not dressed, and he does not want to make the human uncomfortable.
Dean has made food, even though he knows that Castiel does not need it. It is among the better food he has eaten though, and tries not to eat it too quickly after Dean admonishes him, matching his pace to the hunters.
His Grace turns over again when Dean doesn't ask about the coffee, just knows that Castiel will want some. He grits his teeth and tries to distance himself from it. His full attention should be on Dean now. Beautiful Dean, who has a soul that is shining happily right now.
He follows Dean into the hunter's lounge room, settling on the opposite side of the couch to him.
He tells Dean that angels do not sleep, and feels the turmoil of emotions that brings up in his soul. Castiel gently tells him that he had been awake, and watches in captivation as Dean blushes. It is not something that Castiel sees often, and he treasures the expression. But when Dean apologises for pressing up against him in the night, Castiel knows that he has to correct that, now. He doesn't want Dean thinking that he disliked it, or that he does not want it to happen again, because he does. So he tells Dean that he liked it, and watches as Dean's soul perks up in interest.
He leaves quickly after that, switching his clothes and finding a place in a mountain range in the north of Canada to gather his thoughts. Flying means using his Grace, and he's disheartened to find that the short flight has him exerting himself more than he usually does. It is getting harder to reach for his Grace.
He puts his worries about what is happening to him aside. Anna is not here to talk them over with, and he cannot reach any conclusions on his own. If he has to ask Dean he will, but not yet. Not until he has to.
Dean. Castiel thinks about the human, how rash and impulsive he is, how he wants to help people down to the very depths of his soul, how it shines when he laughs, how he makes Castiel feel. It gives him a headache.
He checks on all the angels in his garrison methodically. Each have their own favourite places on the earth, and he feels for them and visits them to make sure they are well, and have not taken harm since the battle. They lost more angels in the battle. Iveal and Xaeal would not fly with them anymore. That leaves twelve angels, if you count Anna. Castiel isn't sure if he should.
He sits with Balthazar the longest, checking on his friend last. Balthazar does not ask where he had been last night, but Castiel is sure that he can see the traces of Dean's soul and being that still cling to him. The other angel looks worried, but does not ask. Castiel is grateful. He still is not sure how he can explain his affection for Dean. To the other angels, he is simply a human that Michael has a claim on. That is what makes him special. Castiel wants to rail and rant about how that is not true, but he holds his tongue, sits through briefings, leads his siblings to battle and comes back injured and aching with the loss of two angels. It sends a flare of anger through him, and Balthazar casts a look at him.
"You okay Cassie?"
Castiel nods. "Yes Balthazar. My Grace did not suffer any long term injuries. You are well, yes?"
Balthazar nods. They're on a beach filled with human life, and Castiel can feel the intensity of the sun as it beats down on the sand, leaving it scorching hot, and having the humans running for the surf.
They watch the humans for a while before Balthazar shakes his wings out and brushes it against Castiel, the show of trust making Castiel aware of the time he has not had over the last few months. He used to spend so much time with Balthazar, but his quiet longing to be with Dean and fulfilling the duties as leader of the garrison now takes up most of his time.
"I miss this," he says, looking out to sea. "I miss spending time with you."
"I know what you mean. Nowadays, you're either with the human or organising something or other."
"He has a name."
"And why should I call him it? He's not going to be using it in a year anyway. He's just going to be Michael."
Castiel tries to hide how much that makes him afraid. "Still, it is respectful to call him by his name."
Balthazar rolls his eyes. "Just because you care about them so much doesn't mean that everyone else does. Seriously, you need to lighten up. They'll be gone in a century, what do they matter?" Balthazar shakes his head.
"They matter," Castiel tells his friend. "They matter."
Balthazar raises an eyebrow. "If you say so Cassie. I'm not so sure."
Castiel knows that humanity matters. He has known it, ever since he first observed a small animal crawling out of the sea, witnessed its determination to live, seen how it refused to die. Why his siblings cannot grasp that simple knowledge is beyond him. He knows that he's always been slightly different to them, but to have Balthazar remind him of it right now when he's so doubtful about what is happening with Dean hurts him.
Balthazar is silent for a few minutes as they watch the people stream back and forth on the beach. "I don't think the mission is going to plan," he says eventually.
Castiel looks at him sharply. "What do you mean?" What has Balthazar seen, or heard? He's never doubted their superiors before. But looking at his sibling's drawn face, Castiel wonders if the loss of Iveal is weighing on him more than anyone else. Besides Castiel, that was the angel that Balthazar had been closest to, the two of them spending time together when Castiel was accompanying Anna or doing something that related to the running of the garrison.
Balthazar shrugs. "I wouldn't be saying this if it weren't you Castiel. I just think that the high ups expected us to win every battle and beat the demons before they even had a chance to realise what was happening. And that's not what happened."
"The demons had time to make plans while we waited for the Righteous soul. We had to wait for him."
"Your human isn't that special," Balthazar scoffs. "Just a means to an end. But that did give them time to organise. Azazel and Alastair are working under Lilith to make sure that they win this war. And I think that they might have a good shot. Look at them," Balthazar says, gesturing to the humans. "Used to be, for every ten souls that we got, they got one. Now it's nearly a fifty fifty split. Hell's gaining power as the human race grows more corrupt." He sighs. "I have a bad feeling."
"I am sure that our superiors have planned for every eventuality, and know what they're doing." Castiel's voice comes out harsher than he intends, and he winces.
Balthazar shakes his head slowly. "I've just got a bad feeling, that's all," the other angel mutters, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of the air and putting them on.
Castiel tries to stem the feeling of dread that's seeping into his Grace. It doesn't work.
/
After the morning that Cas slept over, the angel doesn't stay again. He doesn't mention it, and never presses for Cas to stay.
They take out a vampire nest, and Cas helps him discover how a certain stock holder had mysteriously become debt free. Witches are never nice to deal with, but with Cas there, the angel can mojo him free of whatever nasty shit the witch had thrown at them. The angel had been absent on some of the hunts that Dean goes on, so he gets to face down an okami by himself, and he ropes in Ellen to help with several werewolves in Maine.
Summer comes, and Dean sees all of the angels less and less. He can't remember the last time he saw Samandriel, and the more Uriel stays away, the happier he is. He hasn't seen Anna since Cas told him she was taken away, and every time he thinks about it his worries about the red haired angel grow. Balthazar is around sometimes, and Cas shows up every night, if not to spar then to show him how to manipulate Enochian runes, what different ones mean and how to use them. Cas teaches him different types of warding, and about the properties of holy oil. He also teaches Dean a sigil that can be made from human blood that can repel angels. Dean memorises that glyph quickly.
Cas doesn't say anything about where the angels are, how Anna is, or what they're here for, no matter how much Dean pesters him about it. They go through the sweltering summer with Cas keeping his silence, and Dean trying to get out of him as much knowledge as he can while also trying to figure out if Cas is interested in him. The angel doesn't show any of the normal signs of it, but Cas isn't normal, and Dean is beginning to think, that in his own way, Cas might be into him.
As he learns more about the dark haired angel, he also sees how big the gulf is between Cas and the other angels. Cas writes it off as him being their superior when Dean asks, but Dean doesn't think that that's the whole story. The other angels are too different from Cas, both in rank and personality to be close to him. The fact that Cas doesn't look down on humans as beneath angels is just another thing that comes between the rest of the angels and him, and one more thing that makes Dean interested in keeping Cas around.
He doesn't think about his feelings for Cas in much depth. He knows that he'd like to tap that ass, but it's more than just physical. He likes how Cas doesn't get his references, and how he would tilt his head sometimes, and how he was teaching Dean everything even though Dean is ninety eight percent sure he shouldn't be. Bending and breaking the rules for him.
Dean doesn't linger on the sappy stuff. He knows that he wants something more with the angel, and until at least the first step towards that happens, he's not going to spend time on any emotional crap. If he gets in too deep, and Cas doesn't want anything… Well, it's better to not think about it.
July starts, and Dean doesn't expect the month to go any different than the two before it. He can beat Cas sometimes now when they spar, but he's sure that it's just because he knows the angel so well. How he'll do against another angel is the real question. Cas tells him that he would have gotten Anna to spar with him if she were around, but doesn't answer when Dean asks where she is. Dean doesn't push the issue, knowing that if he does, Cas will just bail on him.
When Rufus hands him an assignment, it's simply the norm. Until, that is, Dean starts reading the brief. There's the bright blue triple A stamp on the cover of the folder, and, like every time he sees it, Dean laughs quietly to himself. As if the angels needed a human's approval to know anything they wanted to know. The 'Angelic Assistance Approved' stamp is simply something else for the high ups to waste time on.
It isn't rare to get cases handed to him like this, but it isn't common either. It usually means that another department had stumbled into something that they know nothing about. The peculiar case goes up the chain of command until someone who knows about the supernatural identifies it and sends it to the SPN unit to investigate. Charlie usually goes through all those, and sends the ones that she thinks might be cases to Rufus, who hands them out to whoever he thinks can do it best.
Dean flicks through the folder, frowning at the information it contains. He might have to call up Bobby and see what the older hunter thought about the information he was seeing in front of him. He picks up his phone and dials Cas, but the angel doesn't answer. It isn't rare for him to not pick up, but Dean was hoping he would anyway. He dials Bobby's number next.
"Singer Mechanics, what can I do for you?" Bobby asks in his gruff voice.
"Hey Bobby. Still answering the phone like that?"
"Well if some person with a dead car does ring me, I want to sound like I could know my stuff," Bobby says. "Unlike some people, I'm not employed by the government."
"You could be if you wanted to though," Dean reminds the older hunter. It was true. His bosses had been trying to get their hands on Bobby's arsenal of knowledge for years.
"Whatever," Bobby growls good-naturedly. "You called for a reason. Spit it up."
Dean smiles for a second. "I've got a weird case," he admits. "Wanted to know if you had anything on it."
"Tell me," Bobby says.
"In Ohio, there's been several killings over the last few weeks. All were killed in different ways, and let me tell you, I'm looking at the pictures… and they're weird."
"How so?"
"Well, one Richard Keeper was killed two weeks ago. He was known for his weekly attendance of church, and kind to the majority of the population, including his family. Also a bird hater. He hated them with a passion. Something to do with his childhood, and how he lives on an orchard, and the birds eat all his fruit. Used to shoot them all the time, trap them and kill them, poison them, you name it."
"It's not nice, but doesn't sound like a reason to get killed," Bobby interjects.
"Yeah. Except, his wife came home one day and found him torn apart, with all sorts of birds sitting around eating the corpse. And not just crows and hawks and stuff either. There were parakeets and hummingbirds as well. Birds that had never touched a piece of meat in their lives were chomping away at this guy."
There's a pause. "That is a bit weird."
Dean shakes his head. "That's just the first one. Kelly Manger was the local electrician. She died of a severe electric shock while installing some cables. A week after she dies, it comes out that the new brand she had been installing are cheap and dangerous, and that the folks had been paying out of their asses to get electrocuted. Reason that it's in the folder is because she was cooked by the charge that killed her. Completely."
"Nasty."
"I know. They think someone put an extra battery or boosted the charge up somehow to get a shock that severe."
"Any more?"
Dean nods, then realises that Bobby couldn't see it. "Yeah, another four. Basically they were some sort of asshole, and they were killed rather ironically by what they did to others. Like this guy who claimed to sell psychic products. Killed by two of his own playing cards, which stabbed him right through the eyes."
Bobby hmms over the phone for a minute, obviously thinking. "I don't have any research yet, but just by hearing what you have to say, I'd say that you've found a trickster."
"A trickster? What's that?" Dean questions.
"Beings with the power to bend time and space, create things out of nothing, and are known for having a sweet tooth. You know Loki, the Norse god?"
"Just in general, nothing specific."
"He was the most powerful of them. There's also Anansi in West Africa. They're more like demi-gods really, and they create mischief and chaos wherever they go, leaving a trail of it in their wake. They like to knock down the high and mighty, get justice for those who can't defend themselves, like your birds. They can create reality, things and people as real as we are. They're immortal, and wise to hunters, so it'll know you're in town before you get there. Bring your angel, I'd say."
Dean rubs a hand over his face. "Cas isn't answering his phone." He'd see the angel tonight, but he wants to be on the road, not waiting for him to turn up. "I'll take Charlie."
"Just be careful Dean," Bobby cautions. "Tricksters can be powerful beings, and they love messing up hunters. Have to stake 'em in the heart to kill them, and the stake has to be dipped in one of their victim's blood. A difficult kill. Charlie isn't a hunter, not in her heart. Take Annie and Victor."
"They're out right now," Dean says, looking at their empty desks. "Werewolf problems again."
Bobby curses over the phone. "I swear, those wolves are everywhere nowadays. I directed some hunters to a pack in Pennsylvania a few days ago, and another pack in Oregon to Tamara yesterday."
Dean frowns. "I'm sure it's nothing. Just some more for a while."
Bobby is silent for a few seconds. "I hope that's all it is," he says eventually. "Anyway, wait for them to get back before you go chasing after this one Dean. Trust me."
They say goodbye, and Dean looks at the phone before dialling another number. Like he expects, Cas doesn't pick up. He does however, leave a message.
"Cas, I'm heading up to Ohio on a hunt, won't be home tonight. If you can spare a second, I wouldn't mind a hand."
He hangs up and gathers his things. It's only morning, and there's a decent amount of the day left for him to drive. He could be well on his journey by the time he had to sleep tonight.
"Sorry Bobby," he murmurs, leaving the office after getting approval from Rufus. He isn't going to let anyone else die.
/
By the time Dean gets to the small town in Ohio, another person has died in strange circumstances. Dean decides to start there when he's looking for clues, deciding that the trickster's tail would be freshest there.
He pokes around the crime scene. The only thing he finds out of place is a mound of candy wrappers in a corner. Dean decides that Bobby was right, and that there is a trickster here.
He spends the night in a motel, half expecting Cas to show up. But the angel doesn't, and Dean shakes off the unhappiness he feels at not seeing the trench coated man. There's no time for that now.
He researches tricksters, and spends some time sharpening some stakes. He had obtained a few pints of the victim's blood from the crime scene, and he put the stakes in the jars so they can soak overnight.
He wakes up knowing that he had dreamed, but not what of. He takes a shower, washing the sweat from his body, and decides to get an early start on the day. Really early. It's only just past seven by the time he leaves the motel.
He spends the rest of the day searching for clues, but there appears to be nothing strange in the town. The trickster would know that he us here by now, and Dean is keeping an eye out for anyone that is eating excessive amounts of candy while following him.
By the end of day, he's decided that he needs to stake out the next victim. He spends some time searching through the profiles on the database of the town, and picks out two more people who could be next on the tricksters list.
He stakes them out the next day, and wishes for a partner to watch the other. He spends a few hours on one and the rest of the day on the other, but there are no strange signs around either of them.
He does more research that night, trying not to take Cas' absence to heart. The angel had other things to do, he knew, but he had made the time every night before. What is keeping him now?
That leads to nameless worry about the angel and what he could be doing and what could be going wrong. The angel had fought in a battle when he had come to Dean's house two months ago. What if he's fighting again?
The quiet worry follows him the next day and the day after. The lack of results is beginning to annoy him, and that plus the worry is making him more tired than usual. He's beginning to think that the trickster had skipped town after figuring out who he is. It isn't unusual to have the monster leave, but it is irritating.
Dean is about to call this one done when the next murder happens.
He grabs his gear and heads to the crime site after hearing it on his police radio. When he gets to the place at the outskirts of town, where the murder was reported, there's a suspicious lack of police cars and there's no one at the crime site. If it even is a crime site, which Dean is beginning to doubt.
Dean hesitates outside the building, not wanting to head into a trap. But the trickster is almost certainly inside, so he pockets everything he can manage before heading up to the door. He's seen the kind of crazy this trickster can produce, and he's going to be prepared for whatever gets thrown at him.
He's about to open the door when he hesitates. He doesn't want to face this guy alone.
"Cas," Dean says lowly. "If you're not doing anything, then I'd really, really, appreciate it if you could wing your way down here and lend a hand." He rattles off the coordinates, and waits for a second.
There's no rustle of wings, and Dean bites his lip, worry for the angel flaring up inside him once again. But when he turns, Cas is leaning up against the warehouse door, looking at him.
Dean's worry turns to annoyance. "Cas, where have you been? I've been worried about you!"
Cas blinks, and he lowers his brows for a moment. "I have been leading my garrison."
"Can you be here or not?" Dean asks. Cas looks away for a second.
"I can be here for as long as you need me to be here," the angel says. Dean nods.
"Good. There's trickster in here, and I wouldn't mind some help with killing it."
Cas shakes his head. "I do not sense any tricksters inside this building."
Dean sighs. Did the creature lead him here while he fled? "Well we have to check it out anyway. Come on."
Dean opens the door, and steps inside. It's pitch black, and Dean hears Cas walk in and the door close behind the angel, trapping them in darkness. He's about to ask if he can turn the lights on when a solid weight connects with the back of his head, and he loses consciousness.
/
Dean groans at the pounding in his head. He sits up, eyes adjusting to the dim light that seems to have no source. He rubs a hand over his face, and then looks around for Cas.
The angel is knocked out, slumped against a wall. Dean has never seen any of the angels in such a vulnerable state, and he feels a pit of fear open in his stomach.
He moves over to Cas, and props his head up against his shoulder. Trying to take the duct tape off his mouth proves fruitless, and Dean gives up after a few minutes of hopelessly trying to pry it away from Cas's skin.
The angel is still breathing, so Dean sits next to him. The room is bigger than he thought, as he can't see the other side of the room, the unnatural light not reaching that far.
Cas stirs against his shoulder, and Dean is nearly distracted from the man making his way out of the darkness.
He has longish gold hair, and is short. He's dressed like any other person on the street, and is silently chewing on a chocolate bar. He has eyes the colour of brandy, and he smiles at Dean, coming closer.
Dean already knows that his weapons are gone, but he checks anyway, fumbling at his pockets. The tricksters smile grows slightly before he frowns.
"It was going to be so easy," he complains. "But then you just had to call him, right? What, you can't fight your own battles?" The short man rolls his eyes. "Honestly. Kill you, skip town, no one'd be the wiser." His mouth twists into a pout. "But then the angel shows up. Now, someone's going to notice if I kill him, and they'd come after me. I don't want that, so I can't kill him. Or you, because then he wouldn't stop until he found me." The trickster's brow furrows and he bites off a piece of chocolate.
"Sorry for messing up your plans," Dean grunts, moving so he's sitting in front of Cas. It isn't much, but it's something, and he needs to feel like he's doing something. The trickster lifts an eyebrow, but doesn't comment.
The trickster clucks, and then shakes his head. He brings the hand not holding chocolate up, and snaps his fingers. He disappears, and the scenery around Dean changes greatly. When Dean looks at Cas, the tape is gone from his mouth, but it's not a big reassurance.
They're sitting in a shopping mall, the crows streaming around them. Dean recalls Bobby's words about creating reality and groans. He doesn't need this right now.
"Cas," he says, trying to cajole the angel awake. "You really need to wake up now."
The angel shifts again, but doesn't open his eyes. Dean sits there for another ten minutes before Cas groans and lifts his head up. The shoppers still stream past them.
"Dean?" Cas asks, his voice lower and rougher than usual. Dean tries to ignore the effect it has on him, and looks at the angel with concern.
"Are you okay?"
"Define okay," Cas grouses. "My wings are sore, and I cannot fly."
"I'm sure you'll be fine. Get up, we have to go."
"Go where? Where are we Dean?"
Dean shrugs. "I don't know. The trickster put us down here. He probably has some nefarious plans, so we have to be ready."
Cas shakes his head. "I told you Dean. There is no trickster here. I know the feel of their magic, and the feel of their illusions. There is none of that here."
"Then what the hell is going on?" Dean asks, looking around. The people look real enough, but they have a kind of blank air around them, as if they had no personality of their own, and are merely part of the greater whole.
"Something strange," Cas says, frowning. "No trickster could have knocked me out. We are dealing with something much more powerful than a trickster."
"Great," Dean groans. "Just what we needed. An uber-powerful monster."
"I am glad that you called me," Cas says lowly. "It would have killed you if I hadn't been here."
Dean shivers and presses up against Cas's side. "Yeah, well I'm glad you answered."
They stand, and Cas only staggers a little against him. "Very powerful," the angel murmurs, and Dean bites his lip.
As if they were waiting for them to get up, the shoppers stop moving. One man screams, and there's a gunshot. Masked men burst through the windows, shooting the crowd, who are screaming and panicking.
"Can you fly us out of here?" Dean yells over the chaos.
"No!" Cas shouts back. "I cannot move my wings. The creature must be doing something to me!"
Grabbing Cas's hand, Dean ducks his way through the crowd, trying to avoid the gunmen and search for a way out. He spots a door, and drags Cas towards it, shouldering it open.
They come out in a racetrack, the crown screaming for a different reason than the one they had been for a second ago. There are cars screeching around the track, but Dean ignores them, looking for the short form of the trickster.
Cas looks worried, but he doesn't let go of Dean's hand, letting the hunter lead him through the crowd. Dean spots a door, and points at it. Cas nods.
They open the door, and Dean shuts his eyes against the blinding light on the other side. When he opens them, they're standing on a hill, overlooking the sea with the sun setting in the distance.
Dean lets his breath calm down and reluctantly drops Cas's hand. Cas looks around, and Dean flops down on the ground. Cas sits down next to him, and Dean automatically leans towards the angel.
"What's going on, Cas?"
Cas shakes his head slowly. "I am not sure. But it is not a trickster doing this."
"Of course. Just my luck. How are we getting out of here?"
Cas looks at him. "When it wants us out, then we will be out."
They sit for ten minutes before the hill under them starts wavering and the sky starts fading.
White settles around them, and forms into a corridor. Cas stands, and Dean follows suit, looking around.
"He's playing with us," Dean says, as the walls start to close in around them. "And I'm pretty sure that I will get crushed if these close, and you might as well, so come on."
They run, Dean grabbing Cas's hand again. The hallway stops, and there's no door. Dean spins, but there's no door in the other direction either.
The walls stop when there's a small room left. Dean puts their backs at one of the walls, and Cas looks at his hand.
"I cannot summon my blade," he hisses.
"Mine's gone," Dean admits. "He took it when he took everything else.
Cas grits his teeth, and then turns his head swiftly. His eyes widen, and Dean looks at the trickster.
"Can't have you two together. Sorry, but you're going to have to go Castiel."
The creature snaps his fingers and Cas disappears, his hand vanishing from Dean's grasp.
Dean watches as he blows a bubble of gum, and it pops. He sucks it back into his mouth and chews it, studying him. Something about it reminds Dean of nearly every angel he's come across, and he shifts uncomfortably, trying not to think about where he could have sent Cas.
"Michael was right about you," the trickster finally says. "You are the one."
Dean furrows his brow, before deciding that anger is better than fear. "What the hell are you talking about? And where the hell did you send Cas?" He growls.
"Your angel is fine," the trickster says casually. "And you're going to need that," he continues, nodding to the silver angel blade that had just appeared next to Dean. Dean grabs it, settling into the stance that Cas had taught him. The trickster smirks at him for a second. "Believe it or not, I'm on your side Dean." His smirk turns more wistful. "Good luck. You're going to need it."
He snaps his fingers again, and Dean is sitting in the Impala next to Cas.
He stares at the angel with wide eyes. "What the fuck was that?" He asks.
Cas blinks at him, looking nearly as stunned as he probably does.
"Are you well?" Cas asks, hand reaching out to touch him. He must be satisfied with what he finds, because some of the panic in his eyes leaves.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Where did you go?"
A haunted look comes over Cas's face. "Somewhere I'd rather not go again. He knew it would make me uncomfortable."
Dean narrows his eyes. "What?"
Cas looks away. "Gabriel sent me to a… den of iniquity."
Dean stares for a second before laughing. It bubbles up and he lets it out quietly for a few seconds. "Well. I would have paid to see that. But you're fine." Dean blinks. "Wait. Did you say… Gabriel?"
Cas nods. "As in, the Gabriel? The one with Mary and the bible and all that?"
"Yes. He has been missing from Heaven for a time, and now I have located him."
"What are you going to do?"
Cas pauses. "I should tell Zachariah that I saw him."
"But…?" Dean asks, noticing how Cas's eyes flick towards him and then look out the window.
"He spared you. And me. He could have very easily killed us both."
"So you're considering not telling on him because what, angelic karma?"
Cas frowns at him. "Gabriel is a very powerful angel Dean. With Raziel dead, he is the third most powerful angel alive. It would do well to not annoy him."
Dean rubs his hands over his face. "So what, you're going to lie to Zachariah?"
Cas doesn't move, but Dean can see how his hands tighten into fists. "Yes. I will."
Dean doesn't push. He can tell that Cas doesn't want to talk about it anymore. The urge to run a hand down his arm and take his hand again rises, but he dismisses it. Or tries to.
He thinks over what Gabriel said. "What did he mean when he said that Michael was right about me?"
Cas tenses. He looks up at him, eyes large and afraid. "Hey, Cas, what's wrong?"
"What did he say, exactly?" Then angel asks him, looking at him intensely. "His exact words."
Dean pauses, but then recounts the entire conversation. At the end, Cas closes his eyes briefly, and his lips move soundlessly, drawing Dean's eyes to them.
"What did he mean?"
Cas looks away. "Cas!" Dean says, grabbing his sleeve before he can zap off. "What did he mean?"
Cas leans forward and rests his head on Dean's chest. Dean freezes as Cas's hand curls up and over the handprint on his shoulder. Dean hesitantly rests the hand that isn't grabbing Cas on the back of the angel's neck.
"Hey," Dean says softly. "It's okay. I'm here, it's okay."
Cas lets out a shuddering breath and then stills almost painfully. "Cas?"
"It's my Grace," Cas says quietly. "It's nothing." He doesn't look up, and the words are murmured into Dean's neck.
"It's not nothing if you're talking about it."
"Please, don't…" The sentence fades and Cas doesn't say anything else for a minute.
"Don't what?"
"Don't ask about it."
"About what?"
"Any of it."
The questions and their replies are murmured quietly between the two, only loud enough for the other to hear. Dean looks at the sun, which is quickly making its way down towards the horizon. He wonders how long Gabriel kept them trapped.
Dean bites his lip. "You're going to have to tell me eventually Cas."
"Eventually is not now," Cas mumbles peevishly.
That makes Dean smile. "What was that? Some angelic backchat?"
Cas looks up at him, and Dean has to remind himself to keep breathing. Cas is so close, their noses almost touching, he could just lean down a bit…
Cas blinks. "Sorry," he says.
"Don't be," Dean replies. "You're fine." And more than fine, his brain adds unhelpfully.
Cas keeps looking at him though, fuck him, to look like that, and not expect Dean to kiss him.
So he does. He leans forward, and presses their lips together softly, his hands tightening slightly where they grip the blue eyed man.