Castiel groans, forcing his eyes open. Balthazar is sitting against the opposite wall, and his vessel is dead. Castiel cannot summon the Grace to see if the angel inhabiting it is as well. There's a deep stain of red covering his shirt, and Castiel remembers Poliel stabbing Balthazar in their frantic flight to get away.
They're in one of the small hiding holes that Balthazar had carved out over the eons. The other angel had painstakingly moved atoms and infused them with Grace so that only he could access the space that they created. Right now, they're in a small white marble room with gold trimmings. It's very Balthazar.
His vessel is bleeding slowly, and his right wing is broken. A stab of pain goes through him when he moves it.
He starts small, by trying to move his fingers. They all seem to be functional, so then his arms. Toes. Legs. But when he tries to move them all at once to sit up, a ripple of agony goes through his torso. He must have been knifed somewhere.
There had been angels that Castiel had recognised in their celestial forms that came after them. Some from his own garrison. Omichel. Poliel. Muriel. Their betrayal rocks him.
Uriel.
Castiel clenches his hands and squeezes his eyes shut. He had never expected the other angel to betray him. Uriel had been his friend.
Had been. After he had wounded Castiel, Castiel had stabbed him in return. And he hadn't missed, like Uriel had. Castiel had always been the better swordsman out of the two of them.
He had killed Omichel as well. Muriel is dead by Balthazar's hand. Poliel is still alive, had been one of those to follow Balthazar's frantic flight after Castiel's wing had been broken. They had been unable to follow them inside the pocket, but Castiel is sure that they are still outside.
Castiel looks at his tie to Heaven. It is a thin thing, and had been fraying over the past few weeks even more than usual. Dean kissing him had not helped matters. It had been how the other angel's had tracked him. If they're going to escape, it needs to be gone. He takes a breath and cuts it.
Castiel clenches his eyes shut, trying to cope with the sudden absence of the Host. He breathes through it, thinking of Dean. Dean, who had kissed him. Dean, who is in danger from his siblings. Dean, who he needs to protect.
Castiel starts dragging himself to his friend's side, ignoring the hole inside him and the rocking of his Grace, wanting to see if Balthazar is still alive. If he touches him, then he would be able to know.
He collapses next to the other angel, breathing heavily and with a Grace that is protesting inside of him. It rocks and churns, and he tries to ignore it.
Just as Castiel about to reach out and touch Balthazar, his hand shoots up and Castiel hisses as Grace rushes through him, healing his vessel and infusing his wing with the energy it needs to click and fuse back together, the bones painfully mending themselves. Castiel feels his nails biting into his palms as he tries not to make any noise.
When he can move, he looks back up at Balthazar. The other angel is smiling ruefully, eyes half closed, looking at his handiwork.
"What did you do?" Castiel asks, horrified. Balthazar had had hardly any reserves to start with, and healing another angel's wounds is no small task.
"What I had to," Balthazar grunts. "Now you can fight, and fly. You'll be able to get out of here."
"I will not leave without you," Castiel tells him, looking hopelessly as the other angel slumps over, head knocking on the ground. Castiel moves him so he's more comfortable, but Balthazar simply smiles at him, lips stretched over his teeth in a grimace, the white stained with blood.
"Well, you're going to have to," Balthazar mumbles.
"No," Castiel says, shaking his head. "No, I won't."
"Don't be stubborn," Balthazar chides. "Don't waste my Grace. I wasn't going to make it anyway. Better to use it for a greater cause."
Castiel watches as Balthazar's life energy starts to ease out of the wound that an angel had dealt him.
"Old friend…" Castiel says, refusing to acknowledge what is happening.
"The plan, Castiel. You need to tell your human about the plan," Balthazar coughs, blood oozing over his lip and dribbling out over his chin. "Tell him… how you," he coughs again. More blood comes up. "How you feel. And make sure you… you kill every demon you can get your hands on." Cough. More blood. There's a puddle by his head now. "You win this. You use the human Castiel." Balthazar's eyes glint. "He will choose correctly, but you need to tell him everything. Don't let your new emotions… rule you." Balthazar pauses, but he's too tired to cough now. Castiel watches in fear as more Grace starts to spill. "There's a reason he's so special. Don't… don't let that go to waste. Don't let him go to waste."
"He deserves better," Castiel hisses.
Balthazar closes his eyes and stops breathing, not bothering to use the energy. The vessel is dead anyway.
You are his better, Cassie. You were always better than me. Now do the right thing. You know, in your heart, that it's the right thing. He would want it. That's the type of human he is. I always…
Balthazar? Castiel cries out, frightened.
Balthazar just sounds tired when he continues, so softly that Castiel has to strain to hear him.
I always admired that. You are the same. Always wanting to make other's lives better. Use your time Castiel, and treasure it. But in the end, he is the one who will make that choice. Not you. And you don't want him to hate you when someone else tells him what the stakes of the game really are. You know the right way Cassie. Don't be selfish. Please.
Balthazar… Castiel says quietly. Balthazar's wings twitch, like they know what's about to happen.
Thank you, for everything Cassie. Truly… Thank you…
Castiel shields his eyes with the crook of his elbow as a blaze of Grace bursts from the dying angel in front of him.
"Balthazar!" He wails. But the other angel's wings are painted black across the ground, and there's nothing left besides his whispered words and a vessel that once held something more.
"Okay then, I'll see you tomorrow." Charlie's voice sounds tinny over the phone, and Dean finds himself wanting to hear the real thing. He hasn't spoken to Charlie properly in a month, and the weeks of isolation are beginning to drag on him.
"Sure," he replies. "See you then."
Charlie makes a satisfied noise before she hangs up, and Dean looks at the phone for a second with a bemused expression. He gets out of the Impala and stretches, feeling his spine pop a few times. Then he opens the boot and gets out everything that he's going to take up to his apartment, so he won't have to make two trips.
He fumbles with the keys in front of his door, the bags in his hands making it difficult to open it. Dean unlocks his door and then closes it behind him, making sure that all of the precautions are in place before turning around in time to see Cas appear next to the wall with a flutter of wings, looking at the ground and swaying slightly.
Dean blinks, hardly believing what's in front of his eyes. "Cas?" Dean asks hesitantly, looking at the angel. He tries to stop the swell of emotions. He's glad to see him, of course. It's been a month. But then again, the last time they were together, Dean had kissed him, and Cas had run off without saying anything about it. He can't be happy with Dean if he had stayed away that long. Dean's worried, and not just about the whole problem that's between them. There's a stain of arterial blood that cut across the front of his coat, stained a deep red. Dean can see rips in the shirt and the darker patches on his pants are probably blood as well. Shit.
As mad as Dean is to have Cas disappear from his life for a whole fucking month – you just don't do that to people, especially someone you had kissed for the first time – he isn't mad enough to ignore the fact that Cas looks like he's been in a few serious fights. So before there's any talking – oh, and there will be talking, even if Dean isn't normally into that touchy feely crap – Cas is going to get clean, and Dean is going to make sure that none of that blood is his.
He turns and dumps his bags on the kitchen bench before Cas says anything.
"Hello Dean," Cas says tiredly. "It's good to see you."
That throws Dean. "Where have you been?" He says, and the words come out harsher and filled with a lot more pain than he wants them to. He blinks and shakes his head slightly, as if that could wash away the emotions behind them.
Cas flinches slightly. "How much time has passed?" He asks, looking around the apartment.
"A month," Dean replies.
"Oh."
Dean bites back the urge to snap at that. "Yeah. Oh."
Cas looks away, and Dean takes a moment to look over the angel. He looks tired, and more than tired. Dean doesn't say anything else, watching Cas and trying not to feel anything.
"Have you been here the whole time then?" Cas asks.
Dean shrugs with one shoulder. "I left, for a while. Road tripped. The werewolves are acting up, so I dealt with some of that. Ah, Gabriel came around, found me. Was looking for you, though. Managed to convince me to come back here, go back to work. I already called Charlie, and she probably told everyone else. I'm going back tomorrow. I didn't know how to explain that you were missing."
Cas looks at the ground for a second. "Balthazar and I were chased into one of the hiding places he has carved out for himself over the millennia. Time moves differently there. I was gone for far longer than I expected." Cas looks back up at him. "I apologize."
Dean can feel himself starting to thaw. "What, you went to Balthazar after leaving me?" Leaving me after I had kissed you, your eyes so blue and wide and lips so soft –
Dean cuts off that line of thought.
"Balthazar found me. But yes, we were immediately forced into hiding."
"By who?"
Cas hesitates. Dean takes pity on the angel.
"Look, are you okay? You're covered in blood."
Cas looks down at himself and seems to realise that for the first time. "Oh," he says quietly. He closes his eyes and the blood disappears – off the coat. He gently leans against the wall as Dean narrows his eyes in disbelief. He chooses to save the coat, of all things? It's ratty and kind of run down looking…
But, try as he might, Dean can't imagine the angel without it.
"Here," he says gruffly. He walks over to Cas and pulls the trench coat off the angel. Cas doesn't try to stop him, so he folds it roughly before dropping it on the ground. Cas watches him with half lidded eyes as Dean strips off his shirts – who wears four layers, what the fuck Cas – and drops them next to the coat. Dean then looks over the angel's body, searching for the cuts that had torn through his shirt. They had been bloodied, but there was nothing there now. Dean assumes that that's why Cas is tired – the angel had told him that healing wounds to his Grace is much more difficult than normal, non-angelic weapons. There's still blood caked all over him though – and Cas isn't in any position to clean himself, from what Dean is seeing. The angel has his eyes closed, and isn't moving, no matter what Dean does. Dean has to stop himself from trailing his fingers over Cas's skin, the desire to touch rearing its head inside him. He settles for one finger low on Cas's stomach, tracing a dried blood stain, the blood flaking off under his fingers.
"Cas?" Dean says lowly.
Cas opens one eye. "Yes Dean?"
"Do you want to have a shower? To get…" He waves at the dry blood. "All that off you?"
Cas lowers his eyebrows but nods slowly. Great. Now he's going to have to walk Cas through that.
He hesitates before kneeling and taking off his shoes and socks. Cas lifts his feet when prompted, and doesn't do anything when Dean's hands touch his belt. Dean takes a breath and is clinical about it, stripping his trousers off next and slinging Cas's arm over his shoulder, leading them to his bathroom.
"You know how to work this?" Dean asks gruffly, staring at anything that isn't Cas and the miles and miles of skin that's exposed.
"I… Yes, I think so."
That's good enough for Dean. He waits long enough to see that Cas isn't going to fall over without support, and high tails it out of there, closing the door but not locking it. He waits until the sound of the shower starts before going to investigate Cas's clothes.
He looks them over to distract himself from thinking about Cas, naked in his bathroom, having a shower, fuck, okay, the belt and shoes would be fine, they're good leather, the blood wouldn't stick to them, he could clean them.
The tie and shirts are screwed, though. Not only are there more cuts than seams in the shirts, the blood had settled deeply into them. There's no point trying to get the stains out.
He dumps the unsavable clothes and looks at what he has left. The coat, a pair of shoes without the socks – what had Cas been doing, standing in a puddle of blood? – and a belt. His boxers hadn't been stained though, which was a miracle in itself, so Cas could put those back on after he was done. After he was done showering. In Dean's shower. Shit.
He's going to need more clothes. Dean focuses on that instead of pondering whether Cas would want a helping hand in there. He rummages around in his closet until he finds a too-small shirt and some tracksuit pants, because Cas is thinner than he is.
He hesitates outside the door though. The shower is still running, and Dean has a sudden vision of Cas, in his weakened state, slipping and falling over. "Cas?" He calls out, trying to keep the worry from his voice.
"Yes Dean?" Cas answers, after a pause. Dean lets out the breath he had been holding.
"I've got some clothes for you. I'll put them outside the door, okay?" Because Dean could not be near Cas without some clothes on. They hadn't talked about anything yet, and if Cas didn't want to do this…
Dean banishes the thought from his mind as Cas answers. "Very well."
He retreats to the kitchen and pours himself a shot of whiskey, just to steel himself. He can see the bathroom door from the lounge room, so he is just going to stay here until he's good and ready, thank you very much. And by good and ready, he meant until he knows for certain that Cas has some clothes on.
The bathroom door opens. Dean can tell by the massive cloud of steam that rolls out. What, had he just had the hot water on? He pours himself another shot and drains it before Cas comes into view.
He's wearing an old AC/DC shirt that Dean had bought as a teenager and hadn't had the heart to throw out. The pants are still too big, and he is holding them up with one hand – he hadn't figured out that you could tighten it with the drawstring yet. Dean resists the urge to do it for him. He raises his eyebrows when Cas immediately goes to where he had dumped the coat, and shrugs it back on.
Dean meanders into the lounge room and over to Cas, looking at the angel.
"You feeling better?"
Cas nods. "Yes, thank you. What did you do with the rest of my clothes?"
"Ah, they were kinda ruined. So I put them where I put the rest of the clothes that get soaked with blood go." He points to his trash, and Cas blinks.
"Oh. Very well."
There's an awkward pause. Cas stares at the floor and Dean rubs the back of his neck.
"Gabriel told me some stuff, when he talked to me," he says, breaking the silence. Cas looks up at him, and Dean wants to know what Gabriel wouldn't tell him. What else is going on?
Cas blinks, covering his blue eyes for a second. "What?"
Dean lets the silence lay for a few seconds before he speaks, recounting everything that the archangel had told him. Cas doesn't move the entire time, merely watching him silently. When Dean finishes, he nods slowly.
"Gabriel did not tell you everything, as you likely suspect."
Dean nods. "I have other questions, stuff that Gabriel wouldn't answer."
Cas nods slowly. "Of course," he says. "Of course you do. Because you always do."
Dean lowers his eyebrows. "What happened to you?" That's the most pressing question at the moment. Cas doesn't have his usual liveliness in his bright blue eyes, and Dean wants to know where Balthazar is, if they both came from one of his bolt holes.
Cas shakes his head slowly, looking away from Dean. "Balthazar found me, and we talked for a while about you, and other things. Then we were ambushed. Angels tried to kill us, probably hoping that with my death, our garrison would be unable to continue without a leader. We fought, but my wing was broken and Balthazar carried me to one of his hiding places while we were chased by my siblings. We hid there, and Balthazar used his Grace to heal me. It was not an easy task, and he had been severely injured while flying away with me." Cas stops, still not looking at him.
"And?" Dean asks, when Cas hasn't said anything for a minute.
Cas sighs softly. "Balthazar gave the last of his Grace to me so that I could heal. He did not leave with me when I fought my way out of where we were hiding."
"Oh," Dean says, looking at the sorrowful angel in front of him. He wants to gather Cas up in his arms and comfort him, but he can't touch the angel, not until he knows what's going on with them.
Cas closes his eyes briefly. "Balthazar told me that I must inform you of both my feelings and what the future holds for you."
Dean doesn't know which one of those he needs to hear first, so he stays silent.
"I…" Cas trails off. "Your soul is beautiful Dean. It sparkles and glimmers and shows who you are. I want to keep it all to myself, to protect you from those that would do you harm."
"I don't need protecting Cas," Dean says lowly, trying not to get his hopes up.
Cas nods slowly. "I know. But still, I wish to give it to you." The angel takes a few steps forward, so that if Dean leans forward a few centimetres, they wold be touching. He looks down at the shorter man, holding his breath. "I want to be able to do this," Cas says, before leaning upwards slightly. Dean ducks his head so their lips can brush lightly across each other, as not breaking eye contact with him. "I want you, all to myself," the angel breathes, the words skating across Dean's skin and etching themselves into his heart.
Cas reaches up and places his hands on Dean's shoulders, falling silent. Dean draws in a breath, his hands fluttering nervously before settling on Cas's waist. He can do this. He can say everything that's been bottled up inside him for the last few months.
"The first time I saw you in that cafeteria I thought you were hot," Dean admits, fighting the urge to smile when Cas frowns. "When I found out you were an angel I was kinda mad that someone so nice looking was an angel. But it's become more than that." Dean swallows. "I like how you spend time with me even though you didn't need to, and I like how you tilt your head when I make a reference you don't get and how you taught me all this stuff that you probably shouldn't. I like your eyes and how they seem to look through my bullshit and into the real me, like you're doing now." Cas blinks.
"I like it how you help me on hunts and I really appreciate your extensive knowledge of everything so I don't have to do any research. I like how you eat the food that I make you, even when you don't need to eat anything. I like how you use your time to teach me stuff so I don't die sometime in the future. And I like doing this," Dean says huskily, kissing Cas again. "I really like doing that."
He doesn't say anything about the warm feeling that rolls around in his heart when Cas is near, or how he feels safe when the angel is sitting next to him, safe like he hadn't felt since before he had been abducted by Alastair.
Cas smiles. "I like that as well," he says shyly.
"Good," Dean says, before kissing him again. "Because I'm going to be doing a lot more of it."
Cas nods solemnly, like they're signing a contract.
"So we're doing this then?" Dean asks.
Cas pauses, staring at him silently. "Yes. I believe that we are," he states eventually.
Dean lets out a breath in relief. "Good. That's good." He bites his lip. "Before anything happens, there's probably some things you should know," Dean says quietly. He has to tell Cas about his childhood and everything about Alastair. Something like that can't be unspoken in any kind of relationship.
Cas looks at him with a gentle look in his eyes. "I know what happened with Alastair Dean, and I know what you did as a child to provide your brother with food and shelter."
Dean's throat closes up, and he can't breathe or speak. A strangled noise makes it way out of his throat, before he just kind of collapses backwards. He's lucky that the couch was there, or he would have just flopped down onto the floor.
Cas is saying something, he thinks, but he can't think. His breath is whistling out from between his lips, and his heart is the only thing he can hear, pounding in his ears. Cas sits down next to him and reaches out a hand to touch him, but Dean flinches away, hurriedly shuffling away from it. He doesn't miss the hurt in Cas' eyes, but he can't help it. You can't just out and say something like that Cas.
The angel is looking at him with large, blue, concerned eyes. "Why not?" He asks, and Dean realises that he must have said the last part out loud. Cas' voice is distant, like he's talking through one of those microphone things that go through walls, but Dean is sure that it's just him, not Cas.
Dean swallows, looking at the ground. He doesn't say anything until he can control his breathing.
"How long have you known?" Dean asks, his voice scratchy.
Cas hesitates slightly. "I was here when you told Charlie about it."
Dean whips his head around, staring at Cas. "What the hell? Most people respect someone else's privacy Cas!"
Cas licks his lips, and Dean can't help but follow the movement. "I did not have the capacity to understand that you might not have wanted me there Dean. I have changed, since I met you."
Dean looks at the angel. Cas looks forlorn, staring at him with eyes that plead forgiveness.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"I did not think it was important." At Dean's sceptical glance, Cas continues. "It does not define you Dean. You can feel the hurt that was inflicted upon you without feeling guilty. It was not something that you had to do, and if I ever meet John Winchester, I will rip his spine out through his mouth. You are not to blame," Cas continues, lower. "For what they did to you. Either those men, or Alastair. It is not your fault that they felt the need to abuse you in the way that they did. Alastair especially." Cas looks away for a second. "He never felt anything for you Dean, other than the twisted pleasure he received from tormenting such a bright and lovely soul. They could have chosen any lively souled person to complete their spell, and they had others as backup. Alastair never truly believed that you would become one of them. He just wanted to destroy something beautiful." Cas shifts closer, but doesn't touch him, not yet. "It is not your fault."
Cas says the last sentence with so much authority, that Dean almost believes him. Almost.
"No," he says, shaking his head. "I deserved it. For all the people that I didn't save, for the demons that were released when I couldn't stop Meg from opening that portal, for all the hurt they caused. I deserved it, for not wanting Sam to leave for Stanford, for enjoying life when so many are dead by my hand, for enjoying doing what I did to those people when Alastair possessed me." Dean curls his hand into a fist, staring at it. "I don't deserve you either. You're an angel, and larger than life, and you are the one who is beautiful Cas. You should go and find someone who can match you for your goodness."
Cas' eyes turn flinty with anger. "Maybe I have Dean," he spits. "Maybe I have found someone who I think could be the one that I look up to, the one who I think is better than me, who makes me want to be better."
"Good," Dean says tiredly. "Then go and spend your life with them."
There's a long silence, which lasts until Dean looks at the angel again. Cas looks lost, and he feels a stab of regret. He doesn't want the angel to go. He would miss Cas with his whole soul, but the angel deserves better than to be dragged down into the dirt and filth of his life.
Cas lays a hand over his lightly, and Dean stares at the place that they connect, only looking up when Cas speaks.
"It is you," the blue eyed man says softly. "You are the one who makes me better. You are the most beautiful soul that I have ever seen, and that you even deign to be near me makes me feel."
Dean casts a confused look at the angel when he doesn't finish the sentence. "Makes you feel what?"
Cas bites his lip for half a second. "Everything, Dean. Angels are not meant to feel anything, but you have made me feel everything."
Dean's breath stutters, and he looks at Cas wonderingly. "Cas…" He says, trailing off. The angel smiles for half a second.
"I have seen your soul Dean," the angel says. "You carry so much that you don't need to. Please let it go." Cas lets out a small breath. "Forgive yourself for what is not is your fault. Feel what you need to feel. It is not a weakness," he whispers. Cas slides closer, and Dean turns towards the angel, resting his head lightly against Cas'. Cas doesn't blink.
"I… I don't know…" Dean doesn't know what to say. He looks at the angel, lost.
Cas's face softens slightly. He brings a hand up to touch Dean's face, stroking over his cheek for a second. "This is not something that happens right away Dean. Think about it, and heal, without need for my help. Without me having to banish the darkness that claws for purchase in your soul."
Dean looks at the angel for another few seconds, considering what he's saying. He swallows. If Cas really does think all of that… Maybe he could be right. Maybe.
"I'll think about it," Dean says hoarsely. Cas does his twitch version of a smile, and it eases something in him to see it.
Dean turns Cas's head, and kisses him lightly. The angel makes a happy sound, gathering the material of Dean's shirt in one hand while the other slowly moves back into his hair.
Dean wants to mess up the angel, but he isn't sure Cas is ready for that yet, so he stops at one kiss, pressing his forehead against his. Dean closes his eyes, but he's sure that Cas still has his open, staring at him.
"You gonna explain everything else?" Dean asks.
There's silence, and Dean lets it lie while Cas sorts out his thoughts.
"Are there angels taking advantage of humans? The traitors that you told me about?" Dean asks, giving him somewhere to start.
"Yes," Cas says, voice gravelly against him. "It was one of the reasons that we chose to interact with you."
"Are they going to come after you and try to finish the job?" Dean asks. He's going to have to warn Rufus about the angels, as soon as he can. But they need to talk about everything else first, so he files it under 'things that need to be done.'
Cas nods. "Most likely. I will have to leave tomorrow. I will try and visit if I can, but it will be difficult, as they will likely be watching this apartment, if they aren't already. I don't think that I will be able to come often."
Dean lifts an eyebrow. "Excuse me? Who do you think I am?" He's not losing Cas. Not again. And he'd been thinking about a change for a while.
Cas blinks a few times. "What?"
He shakes his head. "I'm not letting you go on the run by yourself Cas."
Cas faces him, and Dean sees the dawning comprehension go over his face. "It will be difficult," he warns.
Dean rolls his eyes. "I can carry everything we need in the Impala. Easy."
Cas hesitates. "If you are sure?" He asks tentatively.
"Of course Cas," Dean says, kissing him lightly. "Of course I'm coming with you. Now tell me what the other reason is."
Cas is silent. "Cas," Dean says warningly.
"I will tell you when you have less on your mind. You need to be able to sort through the information properly then."
"I can deal," Dean grouses.
"I will tell you other things now," Cas tells him.
"Fine," Dean says. "Tell me about Raziel's sword. What are the ingredients to get to it?"
"There are too many to list. After the Sword is found, the spell to dismantle the protections surrounding it is immensely intricate and the ingredients are extremely rare and difficult to procure, even for an angel or demon. The problem for us is that there are components that angels cannot find, but demons can. The same is true for them however. There are some things that they cannot find but we can. And then there are some that we have to chance across, as neither of us can find them. That's why we need humans, to look for some ingredients for the spell."
"Then how do you find the sword itself?" Dean asks.
"There are several steps. The map that Alastair had was one of them. We have completed several steps of our own, and I suspect that the location of the sword will be revealed in the next few months. After that, likely there will be an unending battle outside it while each side tries to locate all of the components first so they can complete the spell and take the sword."
"Any catches?"
Cas doesn't say anything, so Dean cracks open an eye. "There is a catch, isn't there?"
Cas nods reluctantly. "The person to complete the final step of the spell must be a human. A very special human, one that only appears every few centuries. A human who is in possession of a Righteous Soul."
"Whoever they are, they must be pretty extraordinary."
"Yes," Cas says softly. "They are."
"So you know who it is then?"
Cas nods slowly. "Yes."
"Do they know?"
He shakes his head. "No. Not yet. But…" He starts, and then stops.
"What?" Dean asks.
Cas looks away. "He should not need to. The Righteous Soul is so very special because they are the only ones who can be a vessel for Michael. Michael will perform the ritual, since the Righteous Soul would not know how to, and he will claim Raziel's sword."
"Wait, Michael, like, the Michael?" Dean says, stunned.
Cas nods. "Yes. My eldest brother."
"That's not how vessels normally work though, right?"
"No. Usually it is through bloodlines. But Michael needs powerful vessels, and those with Righteous Souls are particularly resilient. So, the vessel only needs to say yes, and let Michael possess him, and Michael will complete the ritual, claim Raziel's Sword, and defeat Hell's army with it."
Dean squints at Cas. "Why do you sound so broken up over it? I mean, yeah, I wouldn't say yes, but whoever this guy is, once you explain what's going on, he's definitely going to say yes. I mean, beating back Hell is pretty important."
Cas looks away. "That is not all. Usually when we leave our vessels, their souls are still inside, and can be released when they are no longer needed. But Michael is so powerful, that he burns out whoever he is using as a vessel. He uses the power of their soul to boost his own reserves, and destroys the soul completely in the process."
Dean shakes his head. "That's crazy."
"He would definitely do it for the ritual," Cas whispers. "He would need all the power he could get."
"So this Righteous guy, he needs to finish it? Why?"
Cas shrugs, still not looking at him. "It is simply a condition of the Sword. It must be wielded by someone with a Righteous Soul. Raziel represented Righteousness, just as Michael represents Truth and Strength, and how Gabriel represents Justice. It is just something that is needed for the ritual to be completed."
"That sucks."
Cas nods.
"Hey," Dean says, putting a hand under his chin and lifting his head until Cas is looking him in the eyes. "I'm sure it's going to work out."
Cas swallows, looking at him with his wide eyes, bluer than the sky in summer on a cloudless day. They're filled with sadness, looking at Dean as if he's about to disappear any moment. Dean tightens his fist, somehow knowing what's going to come out of Cas's mouth before he speaks.
"It is you Dean," Cas says. He leans back and shakes his head wildly, as if wanting to refuse the words even as they spill from his mouth. "You have the most brilliant soul I have ever seen," he confesses. "But it doesn't belong to me. Michael's mark is on you, even though he has never seen you before. I want to erase it and take you away and stop all this from happening but –"
"Cas," Dean says, his mouth dry. His hands are shaking slightly as he cover's his hands over the angel's, pulling him to press against him. Cas lets out a small broken sound, and Dean buries his face in his hair, trying not to think. "We'll figure something out, I promise. Everything's going to be okay. It's going to be okay."
"You cannot know that," Cas says, voice trembling. "You cannot know that it's going to be okay."
"It's going to be okay," Dean whispers fiercely, trying to make it true with his determination, trying to ignore the fear filling him, making his gut heavy and chill. Cas's hands grip onto him tighter, as if the angel could keep him safe with him.
They sit like that for a few minutes, Dean closing his eyes and trying to block out the world, trying to focus on the angel in his arms only.
"I'm tired," Dean says softly, without opening his eyes. Sleep sounds good. Sleep means he can rest, and he doesn't have to think about what Cas had told him. Doesn't have to think about anything. "Come to bed with me." He stands and drags Cas up with him, the angel still clinging to him. "Come on."
Dean pushes off Cas's coat and shucks his own excess clothes off. Cas watches as Dean turns down the covers and lays down before Dean can, leaving Dean to curl up into the warm shape Cas makes. Cas sighs contentedly into Dean's hair as Dean grips the back of Cas's shirt in his hand, making sure that the angel couldn't go anywhere in his sleep without Dean knowing about it.
There's a body pressed up against him when he wakes. Dean opens his eyes slowly, blinking a few times before sliding his gaze down to the angel laying against his chest.
He's on his back, and Cas has his head pillowed against his chest, head rising and falling with every one of Dean's small breaths. A smile twitches the side of his mouth, and he brings a hand up to weave it through Cas's hair. The soft strands feel good, and Dean sighs softly, letting his eyes slide shut again, happy to sleep with Cas here.
The angel had come back to him. Had told him that his feelings were returned.
Although it had come with a lot of other crap. But Dean would take all that crap and more if it meant that he had Cas. He ignores the quietly panicking voice inside him that's telling him to flee, to get away as fast as he could, to try and run from what Cas had told him. To run from an archangel trying to make him their meatsuit, to run from having his soul burned from existence.
Fuck. He is so screwed.
"Are you awake?" Cas asks, his voice rumbling lowly and rough from sleep. Dean can't help the smile that covers his face.
"Yeah," he murmurs quietly. "How long have you been laying there awake?"
Cas pauses. "Forty three minutes."
"Most people would have moved by then." Dean tries not to think about the fact that Cas had basically just admitted to sleeping. Since when do angels sleep? He had been sure that that other time was just a one off thing, but apparently not.
"I am not most people," Cas says, sounding affronted. Dean chuckles softly, opening his eyes and looking down at Cas. The angel has an annoyed look on his face, his eyebrows drawn together slightly. Dean moves his other arm to the angel's back and rolls them over, shuffling down slightly so he can kiss Cas. The angel kisses back, trying to follow Dean when he moves his mouth down, trailing his lips over Cas's jaw.
"You kissing me does not make up for your comment," Cas grumbles, letting Dean push a leg between his. Dean smiles, pressing it against Cas's skin and flicking his tongue out to taste the soft skin over his throat. Cas's breath hitches slightly, his pulse jumping.
"I think it's cute. It's something that you would do."
That seems to mollify Cas slightly, and he leans up for another kiss. Dean obliges, feeling Cas' hands slowly move up him to cup his face while they kiss. Dean is a little less sweet, anchoring himself to the body under him by knotting a hand in the angel's hair and gripping his hip with the other.
Dean keeps his kisses light, knowing that the angel is out of his depth. Cas slowly starts to gain confidence, kissing him a bit harder. Dean opens his mouth and nips at the angel's bottom lip, sucking on it lightly. Cas sucks in a breath, clumsily trying to copy him.
Dean lets him experiment on him, thumb smoothing over his hip gently. The fact that he can do this now, have Cas pressed up against him, lips against his, is something that's still surreal. Even after last night, even after what they talked about, he can't believe that the angel is here, and that he wants this, what's happening right now.
He leans back after Cas has had a decent amount of time to lick at his lips. Dean hasn't been passive though, kissing lightly over Cas's nose and cheeks, nosing at the skin lightly while trying to avoid Cas's ever present stubble. Stubble burn is not something he needs.
Leaning his forehead against Cas's, Dean smiles slightly at the angel. Cas is looking at him in wonder, and Dean can't resist the urge to press their mouths together again.
"You sleep well?" Dean asks.
"My rest was enjoyable, with you here."
Dean smirks. "Always happy to help."
Cas lifts an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything.
Dean sighs. "I have to warn Rufus about the angels Cas," Dean says, hands moving to brush against his cheeks as Dean holds onto him.
Cas frowns slightly, and Dean smooths away the lines in his face. "Will he listen?"
Dean lets out a breath. "I hope so. I'll make him listen."
Cas blinks slowly. "Very well. But you should pack everything you need before we leave so we can go quickly if needed."
Dean smiles. "Deal."
Dean reluctantly slides out bed and gets changed, while Cas just puts some of his layers back on. He quickly goes through his drawers, getting all the clothes he would need and putting them in a bag. Then he fills another with things that aren't weapons – some food, a photo album, his phone charger. Then he gets Cas to help him carry the bags while he transports weapons and hunting equipment to the Impala. Most of the stuff that they're going to need is in the boot already, but it doesn't hurt to make sure.
Dean also picks out some clothes that look like Cas's old ones, at least from a distance. A white button down short sleeved top as well as some black slacks. It would do, from a distance.
After they've packed the Impala to Dean's satisfaction, Cas flies them into the office, where Ash and Garth greet them happily. Dean nods and says the appropriate words, but he can't help but feel like there's a barrier between them, made of his flight and absence for a month, and of his knowledge about the angels and what Cas had told him, which had turned his life over in a few paragraphs.
"I'll be back in a minute," Dean murmurs to the angel. Cas nods, but doesn't go to talk to anyone, merely nodding coolly at Charlie when she says good morning to him. The events of the last month must be making him cautious.
Dean knocks on Rufus's door and pushes it open when the older man calls for him to come in.
"Dean!" Rufus says, smiling. "We've missed you in the time that you've been away."
Dean shrugs. "Yeah, well, I'm back." For now, at least.
Rufus nods. "Good. You have anything to report on in the time that you've been away?"
"Yes," Dean says. "A lot."
Dean explains about what Cas and Gabriel told him, twisting the story so that it sounds like Cas told him everything. If Cas doesn't want word of Gabriel getting out, then Dean wouldn't blow the archangels cover. He leaves out the part about the fact that he's the 'Righteous Soul.' As he approaches the end of the story, Rufus starts shaking his head.
"The angels have never been anything but welcoming and helpful Dean. Sure, they ain't the most tact sometimes, but they're angels, not humans. They're a different species."
Dean shakes his head. "You're not listening to me. They're using us. They wanted to find something, hidden here on earth, and they were using humans to do it. They were posing as FBI to other units, and persuading them to search for what they wanted. They've been doing it for as long as they've been here. Cas told me this, all of it. It's true Rufus. We've worked together for long enough that you know I wouldn't bullshit about this. Please believe me," he begs, seeing the commanding officer wavering.
"I'll have to look into it, and ask the angels about it," Rufus says.
"No! If you tell them that Cas told me what I've told you, they'll be after him." More than they already are.
Rufus purses his mouth. "That's how we do things Dean. If you don't like it…"
Dean huffs, throwing his head back. He didn't know why he thought that Rufus would believe him. He's always was been one of the most trusting of the angels, one of the ones to want to believe in a higher power looking out for them.
"Fine," he says, very clearly, making sure that he won't be misunderstood. "I'm leaving. I quit."
He's in the office long enough to see Rufus's shocked face, but that isn't his problem anymore.
Dean walks out of Rufus' office, casting his gaze around for Cas. The angel would fly them back to his place, and they'd leave. They couldn't wait any longer for any angels to find them.
"Charlie?" Dean asks the red haired female who is sitting at her desk. "Did you see where Cas went?"
Charlie looks up from her work. "Uh, yeah. Zachariah appeared and talked to him, I couldn't hear what he said, and then Cas left with him."
And Dean feels fear, real fear, like he had not in quite a while.
Charlie must have seen it on his face, because she stands up. "Dean? What's wrong?"
Dean is already walking towards the door, knowing what would happen but having to try anyway. Sure enough, when he tries to open the door, it doesn't move an inch, locked beyond the normal precautions.
Taking his gun out, he shoots the lock, and that gets everyone's attention really fast.
"Dean? What on earth are you doing?" Garth asks. Dean ignores him, unsheathing the sword Cas had given him and thrusts it at the door. It glances off, but makes the door shimmer for a second.
Taking no heed of the growing chaos behind him, Dean shoves the blade through the lock and that finally gets a response. The door catches on fire, but the angelic protection is gone, so he kicks it open and sprints down the hallway, past Krissy and into the other office on this level.
"Did anyone see a bald dude and a dark haired man in suits go past here?" He shouts into the quiet office. A few people look shocked and several are staring at the flaming door, but two point him towards the elevator.
Knowing that Zachariah couldn't resist the walk of shame out of the doors of the building, Dean throws himself down the stairs, not caring if he breaks something, just knowing that he has to get the lobby before the angels leave.
He passes a few people going up or down, but he doesn't let that stop him, and thirteen floors never felt so far.
Flinging open the doors to the ground level, he's just in time to see a nameless angel reaching to open the doors for two more angels, Cas and Zachariah, Cas's head lowered and Zachariah nearly strutting. It sends a thrill of fury through him. He only just worked things out with Cas. Zachariah isn't going to take him away just after that. Not now, and if Dean has anything to say about it, not ever.
Dean doesn't think he's ever run thirty metres faster in his life. He slams the door closed, and takes the second that the angels are standing there stunned to stab the one opening the door through the throat with the silver blade he still has in his hand. The angel looks down in disbelief as white light starts shining out of the wound, and Dean shields his eyes at the inevitable explosion.
This seems to bring the other two angels to life, and they simultaneously draw their blades and leap at him.
Now they might be angels, but Dean is desperate, more desperate than he thinks he's ever been in his entire life. Cas has been teaching him how to use the blade, all the tricks that would help because he's human, and Dean uses them all, whirling and swirling and ducking under their swords, trying to land a fatal hit of his own. One of them lands a glancing hit on his mouth, splitting his lip, and a sword goes across his upper arm. It doesn't affect him like an angel though – it just feels like a normal blade, and he knows how to deal with that. So he just keeps on swinging.
He slices across the arm of one angel, and as he takes a moment to step back and look shocked, Dean slices through the other angel's throat. She gives out a shudder and falls on her back, and Dean has to cover his eyes to avoid the white flash of light that comes as she dies.
The other angel is already coming at him, and Dean barely has time to dodge and duck, put on the defensive. Seeing an opportunity, he throws the sword, hoping, praying that finds its mark. It does, and the angel has a moment to look down at his chest in amazement before he falls and white light flashes through the lobby for the third time in as many minutes.
Pulling the blade out of his chest with a slick crunching sound, Dean advances on Zachariah and Cas, seeing for the first time the dainty silver cuffs around his angel's wrists. Dean can just make out the engraving on them, and is sure it's Enochian, probably some sort of binding spell.
Cas is pleading with his eyes to run, but Dean isn't leaving until Zachariah has fled or is dead.
Flipping the blade in his hand so he can use it, Dean licks his lips, the silence around them registering for the first time.
Flicking his eyes around, they land on Lara, who is staring at him with a pale face. There are more people who are either staring at him or the burnt out shapes of wings on the ground surrounding him in almost a perfect triangle, easily proclaiming who had killed them, if the bloody blade in his hand didn't do it for you.
"Do you want to be next?" Dean asks, and he almost doesn't recognise his voice, low and dark and deep, angry and threatening. It's a part of himself he usually tries to fight down, to hide, something he usually refuses to acknowledge. He's using it now to try and save his angel from whatever horrible fate Zachariah had planned for him. That's not happening, not while he's alive.
Zachariah looks surprised, and as Dean takes a step towards him, he disappears, but without Cas.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Dean breaks the chain between the cuffs. He slides the blade under each one and, careful not to hurt Cas, cuts them off.
Cas throws them away, and Dean envelops him in a hug before leaning backwards and roughly kissing him, nudging his mouth open and tasting Cas, Cas, who he almost lost to those fuckers, who he is never letting out of his sight again.
"Are you okay?" He murmurs, brushing his lips across Cas' as he talks, and the angel leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut as he rests on Dean.
"I will live," Cas says quietly. "We need to leave."
Dean looks up to see Annie, Victor, Charlie, Rufus, Garth, Ash and Krissy looking at them. Lara has migrated to Charlie's side, and is clutching her hand like it's a lifeline.
"I know," Dean whispers back. "Take us away Cas."
The now familiar feeling of moving through space happens, and Dean gives himself to it, holding onto Cas as tightly as he can.
Now Charlie knew there weren't many normal as such days in her life, but this had been one of them.
Had been.
She'd organised a date with Lara after they had both finished work, and was just finishing up some paper work when Dean and Castiel had appeared.
Seeing the angels appear and talk and leave had become a normal part of her life as well, even if she hadn't seen Anna or Uriel for a while, so she had ignored it for the most part, only noticing when Zachariah and Castiel had walked out instead of disappearing.
She had wanted Dean and Castiel to finally get over whatever had been keeping them apart, but not like this.
Dean is standing in a circle of dead angels, their wings burnt black on the white floor of the ground floor of the building. If it had been any other floor, any other floor, they could have covered this up, but this floor is open to the public, and there are always a few people with cameras around. Charlie can see them now, oh God, their lives were going to be overturned, the public is going to find out, and Charlie doesn't even know why she's surprised when Lara appears next to her and grips her hand tightly.
Dean had just finished kissing Castiel, and is now looking her dead in the eye as he speaks to Castiel. Both of them disappear just as Zachariah reappears with several other angels, angels that she doesn't know.
Charlie can't even begin to imagine the repercussions of this. Already some of those videos had probably been uploaded to YouTube, and Charlie can see other phones pointed at the angels who had gathered around their fallen siblings.
Lara has a death grip on her hand, and Charlie brings her in so she can hold her, not sure when she'll get another chance.
"I'm sorry, but I think I'm going to have to skip our date tonight," she whispers into the dark hair under her chin, as the room explodes into chaos.
"I kind of figured," she says. The angels are arguing and they disappear and reappear frequently, probably trying to follow where Castiel and Dean went.
The public are scrambling to get away, to get closer, on their phones, clinging to other people. The agents who had been on the ground floor are trying to herd them out of the building, even as they close the windows to the outside world. Rufus is on the phone next to her, and Ash and Krissy are helping to try to herd the public outside.
"You've guessed a lot concerning what we do in my unit," Charlie says, not really concerned about anything other than clearing things up with Lara before whatever happens next makes her think badly of Charlie, because Charlie can't lose her, she just can't. "Can you guess now?"
Lara raises her head and look up at her. "SPN… Supernatural." She breathes, eyes wide as she looks up at Charlie, who nods slowly. "No. No, I refuse. You can't… You can't have… You can't know something like that… Why didn't you tell me?"
"Would you have believed me?" Charlie asks softly. "Besides. I don't ask what you do, you don't ask what I do. Top secret, yeah?"
Lara is looking at her with eyes that are too big and too disbelieving. Charlie starts to panic. "I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't because you wouldn't believe me and even if you believed me I wanted to protect you so you would never have to know or worry or fear for yourself like that, and I wanted to tell you because then you would know everything, but maybe you would leave…" Charlie trails off, looking into Lara's eyes.
Lara shakes her head, looking away. "I need to… I need to think about this."
Walking off, she casts several looks back at Charlie before disappearing. Charlie covers her face with her hands for a second before slipping back into business mode. She has a mess to clean up, and she needs to clean it up now.
Dean finds himself landing inside the Impala, Cas sitting in the front seat next to him. He quickly gets out his phone, and sends a text to Sam before turning the phone off.
im ok
Cas is gazing at him, and Dean flashes a smile his way before turning the key in the engine.
"They'll probably be closing the city roads, so we have to get out of here fast," Dean tells the angel. Cas nods, and they quickly move through the city, dodging traffic and police who don't know that there's a problem yet.
Dean flicks the indicator on to turn off onto the main highway leading north. He doesn't know where they're going exactly, just knows that they have to get away.
He drives until the sun has set, and thanks his luck that he had withdrawn money from his account this morning. Seeing a motel, he drives in and books a room for two and pays with cash. They're in the outskirts of Colorado Springs – Dean had always found it easier to hide in a big city.
Cas helps bring his bags in, and Dean systematically starts to cut up all of his credit cards, business and personal. Cas observes him silently as Dean cuts up as many ties to the last ten years of his life as he can. He keeps his driver's licence and badge for emergencies, but other than that, everything goes, including all of his phones. He lifts his shirt up, but the cut that's there isn't serious, and he just doses it with some anti-bacterial stuff and leaves it.
When he's done, he dumps the small fragments in the bin that sitting in the room and turns to Cas, who's on the bed. The angel lets his wrists taken up and inspected by Dean.
"Why didn't he take you with him?" Dean asks, brushing his fingers over the slight imprints that the cuffs had left.
"The binding spell prevented me from being affected by any Grace, including the Grace of other angels. He could not take me with him unless be unbound me."
Dean lets out a breath, bringing Cas's wrist up and kissing the marks lightly. "I was worried, for a moment," he admits. "Worried he was going to take you away, somewhere that I wouldn't be able to follow."
Cas's eyes go flinty. "And you think I wasn't afraid when you took on those angels?"
Dean smiles at him. "I was trained by the best," he says, and Cas purses his mouth.
"Flattery will get you nowhere," he warns.
"Cas, I wouldn't have tried to go in if I didn't think I had a fair chance of winning. I wanted you free, not captured and having to deal with the fact that I was dead."
"They would have been reluctant to kill you," Cas says. "They know you are the possessor of the Righteous Soul. Being dead would not help their cause."
Dean shrugs. "I wasn't really thinking about that. I was thinking about everything you had taught me, and trying to get out of there alive. But let me tell you," Dean cracks a smile, "That threatening to kill Zachariah is coming in second for best moment of the week."
"What's the first?" Cas shyly asks him.
Dean feels a corner of his mouth crook up. "Being able to do this," he comments, pressing their lips together. Cas lets out a content little sound.
Dean asks the question that's been burning under his tongue for a while now.
"Why did you leave?"
Cas blinks. "What?"
"After I kissed you. Why did you leave? I mean," Dean continues, waving his hand in the air between them. "You obviously reciprocate. What happened?"
Cas turns his head away slightly. "My Grace is not used to being in such situations, Dean. It demanded that I leave. I panicked. I did not understand… this. Balthazar helped me think through some things and make some decisions. I simply needed some space to think things through before I returned to you."
Dean runs a hand up his arm and to the back of Cas's neck, prompting the angel to turn his head back towards Dean. "I am sorry," Cas says. "I did not mean to cause you hurt."
Dean takes a breath in. "It's fine Cas. It just kinda felt different, though. To me. It looked like you ran because you didn't want it."
Cas flinches. "Yes. I did not think of that."
"That's all I can ask, then," Dean murmurs. "That you think about it next time."
Cas nods stiffly. "I promise I will."
Dean feels the corner of his mouth twitch up. "Good."
"So what's next?" Dean questions, after they've been staring at each other for a while.
"Next?" Cas inquires.
"Well, we're on the run. You, from crazy angels, me from the FBI, who are probably having a full blown panic attack right now. Let me assure you, they are not happy with me. I saw all those cameras. That's not something that's going to be easy to erase off the internet." Dean bites his lip. He hasn't had the guts to turn on the news yet. "I don't know how they're going to cover this up Cas." He sighs lightly, and Cas presses up against him. "So we're running, but what are we trying to accomplish?"
Cas runs a hand through his hair. "The angels are also looking for you now Dean," he tells him slowly. "They need you. Hell knows who you are, and they need you to complete the spell as well. So…" Cas trails off, and his hand moves up to cover Dean's heart. Cas looks at him with wide eyes, but that doesn't distract Dean from having his breath pushed out of him as his ribs burst into pain for a few seconds. Abruptly, it's over, and Dean stares at Cas, panting lightly.
"What the hell was that?" He exclaims, looking down at Cas's hand.
"I carved some Enochian into your ribs. No angel or demon can find you now."
Dean gapes at his chest for a few moments before looking up to Cas again. "You what?" He rubs his head and swallows. "Not even you?"
Cas shakes his head. "There could be no gap in the carving, or it would be useless."
Dean just kind of stares at Cas for a few more seconds before shrugging. It'll be useful. "You could have warned me first," he grumbles.
Cas looks like the thought hadn't occurred to him. "Oh. I shall, next time I'm inscribing something into you."
Dean doesn't know how he's meant to respond to that, so he just kind of look at Cas for a while. "Okay, so what now? We've got the angelic protection down, we just need a plan." Dean looks sideways at Cas. "Unless your plan was just running."
Cas looks at the ground sheepishly, and Dean gasps. "It was! Cas that isn't a good plan."
Cas looks back up at him. "Well what else can we do?"
Dean rubs the back of his neck, suddenly a lot more aware of the space between them than before. "Well, tell me about that map that Alastair had." The demons name tastes like ash in his mouth, and he tries not to shudder.
"It was a locating spell. Do you have a map?"
Dean rummages around in his things to find a map. It's a world one, and Cas nods approvingly at it, making a pencil appear out of nowhere and making small marks on the map in various locations around the world. For some, he puts crosses, and for some he puts stars, the type you draw without lifting the pencil from the page.
"The stars are where an agent of Heaven has completed a location spell. The crosses are for Hell."
Dean looks over the map while Cas starts to draw small arrows pointing in different directions from the stars and two of the crosses. "We know this direction because an angel had managed to sneak in and observe the ceremony," Cas tells him. "And we were both there for the one in Ohio. It was the most recent."
"So how does this work?"
"Each time the spell is performed, it gives you a direction. A very vague direction, but you get the general idea. We think the sword fell in the United States of America because of our readings, and form where Alastair performed his ritual, we think that they know as well."
"So it's definitely in the US?" Dean questions, looking at the map.
Cas points to the mark he made at the north border of Mexico. "We know that it's north from this point." He points to the mark in Ohio where Alastair had held Cas and himself captive. "And south west from this point." There's a mark in China, and Cas moves his finger to brush over it next. "The direction was east from here. It's the turn of Heaven to make a move and complete the next spell, after what Alastair did in Ohio."
"Do you know what you need for it?" Dean asks him, looking at the map.
Cas nods. "Yes. It is a fairly simple spell compared to some of the others. We have all the ingredients we need, but we are lacking one." Cas frowns lightly. "We needed some blood from a pure souled child. It needed to be fresh, so we had to take it just before we completed the ritual. I had two guards on two different children, but both Sariel and Vaveal were killed, and the children stolen by minions of Hell. We would need to find another child for the spell to work."
"How much blood?" Dean asks, slightly sick.
"Not a large amount. Only enough to wet the end of a stick, the one used to draw the circle."
Dean nods. "Okay then. How would we go about finding one of these kids?"
Cas looks up at him, their eyes locking. "What are you suggesting?" The angel asks slowly.
Dean bites his lip. "Well, Heaven hasn't completed the spell yet, have they?"
Cas shakes his head. "No. Every angel and demon in existence would have felt it happen."
Dean raises his eyebrows at that. "Well, what if we did it?"
Cas looks confused. "Do what?"
Dean takes a deep breath in. "What if we completed the spell, and narrowed down where it would be even further?"
Cas tilts his head to the side. "That would limit what my siblings know," he says.
"Yes, but it would stave off them finding it, at least for a while, right?"
Cas nods. "Yes, it would slow them down. But Dean," he says, voice dropping in volume. "They are going to find the sword eventually. And then they will want you."
Dean runs a hand over his face. "I know. That's why I'm saying, we should beat them to the punch. Find where the sword is first, before them. After someone's found it, can these locating spells be used anymore?" He gestures to the map on the table in front of them.
Cas shakes his head. "No. They cannot. That is why both sides are racing to find it first."
"So we find it," Dean appeals, "Before anyone else does."
Cas stares at the map silently while Dean waits for his decision. "Someone's going to find it Cas," Dean murmurs. "Why can't it be us?"
Cas looks like he's warring with himself internally, hands bunched by his sides. He turns to Dean, and the hunter wants to erase the worried look in his eyes. Cas leans over and kisses him, and Dean rests his hands on his shoulders as Cas grips the front of his shirt.
"Hey," Dean says softly. "I told you. Everything's going to turn out okay."
Cas's eyes slide shut slowly, and Dean pulls the angel against him firmly, trying to erase the space that kept them apart.
"Are you sure about this Dean?" Cas asks softly, after some time has passed.
"What, about finding the sword? Someone's going to find it Cas. And then they're going to be looking for me, not it anymore. But if we stop them from finding it, then they won't have as much time to look for me."
Cas nods slowly, his nose pushing into Dean's neck. "Very well. Then we should find a child with a pure soul, and we should take the thimble of blood that we need from them."
"And we need to do it before Heaven can get their hands on a kid. No sweat."
"If we want to achieve the spell before my siblings, then we need to move quickly," Cas advises. "We should start tomorrow."
"Okay. Find the kid, complete the spell, find the sword. No problems, right?"
Cas leans back so he can look at Dean. "It is extremely unlikely that we will not have any problems. Or that the spell will narrow down the location enough to find the Sword."
"Ah, yes, but," Dean whispers. "It keeps our spirits up when we're freaking out. It helps calm us down and keep us centred. A little reassurance can go a long way Cas."
Cas tilts his head slightly. "What types of reassurance are there?" He questions.
Dean lets out a soft laugh. "This is one of them, if you were wondering." He slides his hand under Cas's chin and angles it so that he can kiss him. Cas presses into it, lips searching softly against Dean's. Dean sighs softly, the air moving against Cas gently. The angel's hands are happily holding Dean against him, as if he were trying to keep the hunter from the forces of Heaven and Hell. No that it would do much good, but Dean is willing to let him do it. Cas needs the reassurance as well as he does.
He doesn't want to think about what Cas had told him the previous day. He doesn't want to think about that fact that Alastair was most likely going to be searching for him again, and that the demon knows where Sam is. He doesn't want to think about a war that's gone on since before time was something that needed to be measured.
All he wants to think about is how satisfying it is to have Cas here, their lips pressed together, both trying to escape the inevitable, but ultimately just making the time that they have count before the clock ticks down to zero.