Chapter 5
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Corinthians 13:4-7
THEN
The void of space and time
Castiel had no memory of the moment he was created. He hadn't been born, he just was. And since he could remember, there was the Lord and Castiel's love for Him, pure and unalterable. It was everything he knew.
There was only Heaven, and everything was peace and contemplation of the word of his Father. But then, the Lord created Earth and everything that came with it: fauna and flora, sea and sky, day and night. The angels became enraptured by the new creation, and many ventured on Earth to see its peculiarities.
Then, the Lord created humans and gave Earth to them. The angels could not walk freely on Earth anymore, and on top of everything, the Lord told all of His angels to bow before humans and love them more than Him. At first, the notion was absurd, because the Lord was their everything. But angels had been made to obey, and so, they did it without complaint.
Not all of them, though. Castiel's most beautiful brother, called Morning Star, said that could never love anyone more than he loved their Father. He rebelled against the order, and for that, he was casted out of Heaven, sent to a horrid place under the world, and the Lord called it Hell. Some angels followed him, but the vast majority recoiled in fear of the greatest punishment an angel could imagine: being away from Heaven and deprived of their Father's love.
And that was what it was all about: love. In the name of his extreme love for his Father – or so he alleged – Morningstar had been casted out of his home. In the name of love – or envy, who knows? – for the human race, like the Lord had ordered, Castiel had seen some of his brethren fall.
And what to say about humans? In the name of love, he had seen them cry, suffer, perish, kill, die. All in the name of a feeling that left them raw, bleeding, vulnerable. To love was to suffer, to constantly be at the mercy of another. It was terrifying. He had never wanted to feel that.
Until he saw a soul so bright and beautiful that he couldn't ignore. Until the need to protect, the need to care for the man he was supposed to kill was bigger than everything. He still didn't know, but he fell in love with Dean Winchester the moment he saw him.
NOW
Lawrence, Kansas, July, 2013.
The next couple of weeks passed so fast that Castiel barely noticed. Every spare moment he and Dean had, they spent together. It was like seeing the world for the first time, all over again. There were improvised 'picnics' at the garage, stolen kisses at the diner when no one was looking, nights watching the stars at the park. There were coffee dates, although Castiel didn't like coffee too much, and Saturday afternoons spent at the library, although Dean didn't like austere places where you couldn't even talk too loud.
Dean was fascinating; Castiel was completely and irremediably smitten by him. It was not just his kindness, his love for his family, the way he gave his best in everything he did; the way he treated Castiel, like he was important and rare.
Castiel's fascination was the little things too: like Dean's tactless and stupid jokes, his love for every single greasy and unhealthy food invented by men, his obsession for his car. Also the way he danced like crazy to his loud rock music when he was alone in the garage - or so he thought - the way his lopsided smile illuminated his whole face and how his eyes widened comically every time he saw Castiel wearing anything other that the diner's yellow apron. His bowed legs.
Life with Dean was everything Castiel never knew he wanted. Dean was funny, larger than life, noisy, brash, tender, considerate, beautiful, andperfect. Castiel was very much in love with him, although he hesitated to tell him, afraid of being too much, too soon.
Castiel had never wanted to fall; he had never wanted to love a human, whose life was so short when compared to his. But if these past weeks were any indication of how the rest of his life with Dean was going to be, Castiel would gladly live by his side until Dean was a hundred years old.
They were sprawled on the hood of the Impala again, lying on a thick wool blanked Dean had found in the trunk. Soft music, for once, was playing on the radio, low enough not to disturb the others at the park.
"I really like to spend time with you, Cas," Dean said between kisses, his head on Castiel's lap. "I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be."
"Me too, Dean. I enjoy your company very much."
Dean gave a small laugh. "You talk like my Grandma Deana. It's… God, I never thought I would use this word with someone, but here it goes: it's cute."
Castiel shrugged, a little self-conscious. "I can not speak otherwise. I find it very difficult to use the slangs and expressions of today's speech. Sometimes it seems to be a whole different idiom."
Dean pressed his hand on Castiel's cheek. "Hey, it's cute. I don't want you to change, okay? I like it."
"Thank you, Dean," Castiel said, sincerely. "Um… don't you have to wake up early?" he asked, looking at his watch – a gift from Missouri, because 'you can't not have a watch, boy' – and seeing it was almost midnight.
"You know I don't sleep much," Dean retorted, and yawned immediately. "Crap," he snorted. "Okay, let's go."
They slid to the ground and, while Dean folded the blanket, Castiel sat on the passenger's side. Dean tossed the blanket in the back seat, sat behind the wheel and looked at him. "The truth is that it's getting harder and harder to say goodbye to you."
Castiel gave him a small smile. "I think we can stay a few more minutes…?" he said, and Dean pulled at his arm until their mouths were almost touching. "You're not the only one who does not want to say goodbye."
"That's good," Dean said, and Castiel could feel the hot puffs of his breath, the heat of his skin so close it left him lightheaded. "That's very good, Cas."
Dean's kiss had always left Castiel a little dizzy, since the first time, because there was so much more behind it than two mouths touching and exploring each other. There was a connection, something much deeper than what Castiel could see, even as an angel. It was as if their essences wanted to merge and become one. Being with Dean made Castiel feel as if he belonged to something vibrant, colorful and beautiful, made him feel alive.
Dean deepened the kiss, letting out a little moan, and he lowered the back of his seat, his arms pulling Castiel on top of him, the upper half of their bodies touching. Suddenly there was heat and Dean's mouth seemed to want to take all of Castiel's air from him.
Dean held the hem of Castiel's shirt and tugged a little, insinuating one hand under his shirt and resting it between the angel's shoulder blades. His other hand was at the back of Castiel's neck, holding it in place, just a little to the side so their mouths could fit better against each other.
It was overwhelming. Castiel felt as if there was a live wire under his skin, Dean's hand on his back leaving goose bumps on his flesh, his mouth burning hot, heavy and demanding.
"Cas," Dean murmured, "You're killing me. I want you so bad…" He interrupted the kiss only to suck lightly on Castiel's earlobe, and the angel whimpered, feeling his pants suddenly really tight.
"Dean…" he sighed, his hands on Dean's sides, trying to decide if said hands were going to lift his shirt or dive in his hair. "There's something I… I need to tell you…"
"What?" Dean said, the hand on Castiel's neck sliding lower to rest on the small of his back.
"I've… I've never… I… um…"
Dean muffled a groan and stopped, holding Castiel's head with both hands, making the angel look at him. "What, Cas? Come on, you know you can tell me," he coaxed gently, kissing at the tip of Castiel's nose.
Suddenly, Castiel's inexperience weighed on him like a ton of bricks. He knew, logically, that he didn't have a reason to feel embarrassed for being a virgin. But he wasn't sure what Dean would think of that, because he was more than aware that for all ends and purposes, he was a thirty-something year old man. And men his age weren't supposed to not know anything about sex.
"I… I never had occasion to… you know…err…"
"Cas?" Dean frowned a little, and suddenly it was like everything had fallen into place. "You… you never had sex, is that what you're trying to say?" Dean's puzzlement was evident, but he gently lifted Castiel's chin. "Hey… look at me…? What's going on?"
"That's it," Castiel admitted. "I've never had sex before."
"Wow," Dean said, a little astonished, but when Castiel looked down, he searched the angel's eyes with his. "Hey, no, no, listen… it's not a big deal, okay? There's nothing wrong with that."
"I don't want to disappoint you," Castiel said, embarrassed. He wanted Dean to genuinely like him, but having so little experience at being truly human, he was sure Dean would think he lacked experience to engage in something humans gave so much importance to.
"You would never disappoint me," Dean assured him. "It's just a little… unusual, but I guess with the way you were brought up… hey, it's actually a turn on, you know?"
"It is?" Castiel asked, hating himself for sounding so insecure. He was an angel, a warrior, why did he have to sound like a child? Why did he turn into a complete different person/angel whenever Dean was close?
"Are you kidding me? It's hot to know I will be the first to-" then Dean stopped, blushing furiously. "I mean, if you want me, that is. I don't want to assume anything; you don't have to feel pressured to" –
"Dean," Castiel gave a little laugh, all the tension leaving him at Dean's nervousness. "You're babbling again."
Dean sighed, smiling self-consciously. "Yeah, you seem to have that effect on me, Cas. Listen, I don't want you to" –
"Dean, I want to," Castiel said, looking at Dean with his usual intensity. "I really want to."
"You do?" Dean gave him a stupid looking grin, and Castiel caught himself automatically grinning back.
Castiel nodded, pulling Dean to him. "Yes," he murmured, and this time, he was the one initiating the kiss, that immediately escalated to a furnace because Dean's mouth felt so hot on his.
"Wait, wait, wait," Dean said, stopping suddenly. "Not like this."
"Dean?" Castiel looked at him, frowning, his head tilted to one side.
"Your first time won't be in my car, Cas. You deserve better."
Castiel bit his lip, finding it really difficult to hide his disappointment. "But I thought you wanted me."
"God, I want you, Cas," Dean chuckled, grabbing Castiel's hand suddenly and putting it on his crotch. "Does it feel like I don't want you?" he asked, boldly.
"Oh," was all Castiel could say at the evident bulge there.
"But not like this," Dean said reluctantly, taking Castiel's hand from his pants and holding it firmly. "I wanna do this right, okay? I don't wanna mess things up with you." He kissed Castiel firmly, but chastely this time. "Let's go, let me take you home."
"I don't want to…mess things up too," Castiel said. "But I have no experience in relationships, and I think that eventually I am going to disappoint you or make you regret being with me," he confessed, because he was already hiding too much from Dean. At least he could be sincere about how he felt.
"Hey, do I look like I know what I'm doing?" Dean asked, arching his eyebrows. "Cause I don't. But I like the way things are going between us, so let's keep it simple and honest, capisce?" he winked at Castiel, making the angel's heart flutter.
Dean wanted honesty, and that was something Castiel couldn't give him. Not completely. And love was anything but simple. Even so, the angel gave Dean a little smile. "Yeah, I capisce."
Dean adjusted his pants, grumbling a little – and Castiel adjusted his own with discretion, still in a little bit of awe because that had never happened to him – and increased the radio's volume. He started to sing along, his relaxed posture taking all of Castiel's doubts away. They were alright.
The angel felt a little stupid, being worried about something so simple like sex. Castiel knew all the mechanics of it. Technically, it was only a question of giving and receiving pleasure. But he knew it was never going to be just that with Dean, because he felt so much whenever he was with the man, that he had to admit, it left him a little apprehensive.
For most humans, sex was a big part of their lives, and theory was never the same as practice. He wanted to give Dean everything; he wanted to do everything, be everything, as long as Dean would keep smiling like that every time he looked at Castiel.
Dean held his hand all the way back. And Castiel didn't think of Crowley at all, not even for a minute, even though deep down he knew the demon was still a very real threat. He knew that was wrong and dangerous, but he wanted to be carefree just once in his life. Was he asking too much?
THEN
Lawrence, Kansas, May 2013
"Dude, you don't even look human here," Dean laughed, looking at the picture in Castiel's ID. "More like a robot."
Cas looked at the document in Dean's hand and shrugged awkwardly. "I don't like pictures. They make me uncomfortable."
"Castiel Angelus," Dean read. "You have a pretty cool name."
"It's a name like any other. Winchester is a little unusual too."
Dean smirked. "I know. 'Like the gun?' everybody asks."
Apparently, Cas had no idea how to get a library card, and Dean volunteered to help him. That was why they were going to Lawrence's public library, walking side by side in a Friday afternoon.
"I can't believe you've never had a library card before. It's like you lived in an island, isolated from everything technology related," Dean joked, but seeing Cas' serious expression, he backpedaled. "Shit. Cas, I'm sorry, I didn't really mean it. You know me, I have a big mouth,and my brain doesn't filter the things I say."
"It's alright, Dean. I was really kind of isolated, I suppose. I… my family is very… religious. I was taught to obey at an early age, and it never occurred to me to question. Until recently."
"You mind if I ask you what happened? I don't wanna be nosy or anything, but you know so much about me – well, partly because I talk a lot, I know – but I know almost nothing about you."
Cas gave Dean a small smile. "I understand. And I don't mind at all that you ask. I'm just not sure I can give you a proper answer. There is a reason why I came to this city. I… was given an order by a superior, and I didn't… I didn't think it was a fair order, something reasonable. In fact, it was extremely unfair and it would hurt someone I came to… care about. And I just… couldn't do it."
"Shit, Cas, you sound like you're talking about the mafia here."
"I am sorry I cannot go into details. It is… painful to talk about this."
"Hey, no." Dean put his hand on Cas' arm. "If it makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to say anything."
But Cas seemed determined to talk now. "I had never left my home, not for long, and most of the times one of my… siblings was always with me. When… when I didn't obey, they just casted me out. Suddenly, I was on my own. One of my brothers brought me here, but he had to leave and… this is it. Nothing exciting, I'm afraid. You understand if I try to… avoid talking about it."
"I do, man, I do," Dean nodded sincerely.
"I feel like I have been living inside a shell, until now. Everything is… different from what I was used to."
"I get it," Dean assured Cas. "I have things I don't like to talk about, everyone does. It's okay, I'm not asking again, alright? Missouri says you're a good guy; you saved my life and everything…" he laughed. "You seem more like a nerdy baby in this trench coat than a Mafioso, anyway."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence," Cas said, looking at Dean with his very big and serious blue eyes.
And… damn. That was Dean's weakness: Cas' serious, earnest expression, his blue eyes always scrutinizing Dean, like Cas wanted to read his thoughts.
He really liked Cas, he really did. Cas was a simple guy, who apparently had experienced his fair share of hard times in life. Dean could relate to that. He understood if Cas didn't like to talk about his past. Deep down, Dean felt he could trust the guy, so he decided to go with his instincts.
Dean and Cas, they… just clicked. Even though they were different like water and oil. Dean liked to talk, Cas liked to listen. Dean was loud and brash, Cas was quiet and polite. Dean liked to act first and think later, Cas… he seemed to be always thinking, so much that Dean could almost see the gears turning inside Cas' head.
And yet… being with Cas was good, comfortable, easy. It made Dean feel at peace, like he hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe he was starting to fall for the guy; maybe it was the beginning of one of those epic friendships. Who knew? And who cared? Dean liked Cas, and he would spend all the time he wanted by his side, because Cas apparently liked to hang out with him too, so why not?
"Dean…?" Cas asked, frowning.
Dean shook his head. "Sorry, man, I got distracted for a second there. Where were we?"
"Going to the library, I suppose."
"Yeah, right." Only then Dean realized he was still holding Cas' arm. "Um… want an ice cream?"
Cas looked at Dean like he had grown two heads. "Didn't you just eat a double cheeseburger before we left?"
"Come on, Cas, live a little. Tell you what, let's go to the library, then there's this place that makes a killer milkshake."
Cas didn't look like he wanted a milkshake, but he followed Dean willingly, shaking his head good naturedly all the way.
NOW
Lawrence, Kansas, July, 2013
"Cas, help me!" Dean yelled. "I don't want to go!"
"Dean!" Castiel yelled too, but he was unable to move. Dean was crying, pleading, begging for help, and Castiel was paralyzed, unable to do anything.
You shall not misuse the name of the LORD your God.
And there was the thunderous voice again. Dean fell on the ground and started screaming in pain.
You shall have no other gods before me.
"Stop!" Castiel yelled, but the voice continued, and Dean screamed, and Castiel's heart ached so much he thought it was going to explode. Desperate, he started to call Dean's name over and over, praying that the pain would stop, but nothing happened.
Then a voice Castiel unfortunately knew too well, said from somewhere beside him; "Hello boys, did you miss me? I've come to get my prize."
"Crowley!"
Castiel woke up covered in sweat, panting, with the pain in his heart still there, strong and piercing. He looked at the clock, and it was barely one AM. He had been asleep for less than an hour.
Dean had caught a cold and had stayed home. It was Tuesday, the diner had closed early, so Castiel had gone to bed earlier than usual, only to have that bad dream again. But the last time Crowley hadn't appeared, in the nightmare. What did his appearance mean?
Whatever the reason for his presence in the dream was, at least it made Castiel realize something: he had been acting carelessly. What right did he have to enjoy life with Dean, when the man's life was still in danger? He was a warrior; he should know better. A warrior should never let his guard down, and that was what Castiel had just done. Love had blinded him, made him reckless. He had forgotten the basics of being in a war: constant vigilance.
What kind of angel was he if he couldn't remember his mission? He was meant to protect his charge, not fall in love with him.
'But you aren't an angel anymore, are you? At least not completely,' a little voice inside his head said. Immediately, he shook his head as if to make the thought go away. Self-pity would do him no good. While he was sitting in his bed, reproaching himself, Crowley was probably plotting a new attack; it was a wonder he hadn't done anything new yet.
He needed to act, to neutralize the demon, the sooner the better.
…
Castiel found John at the same bar, drinking the same brand of cheap beer. "You didn't leave," he commented, sitting in front of the man.
John barely looked at him. "How can I, when I know that thing might still be around?"
"Did you get the tattoo?"
John pulled at his sleeve, showing his upper arm to Castiel. "Is it good enough?"
Castiel examined the black tattoo, the pentagram and a few sigils he had added for good measure, everything exactly like the drawing he'd given John. "It's perfect. He can't possess you anymore."
"Somehow this doesn't make me feel any better."
"That's why I came to find you" Castiel looked at the older man determined. "I need your help."
"Doing what?"
"Defeating the demon."
John gaped at him. "You're not joking."
"I'm not." He wished he was. There was a time when a simple touch on Crowley's forehead could incinerate the demon from inside out. Well, not anymore. "But I can't do it alone."
"Can you even do it?" John asked, shaking his head. "Are you even sane?"
"If it bleeds, it can be killed."
"What about the person he is possessing?"
Castiel shrugged uncomfortably. "We can try not to harm him, but… there is a possibility that we'll have to deal with this one casualty."
Castiel hated to have to ask for help. But he was almost Graceless, there was so much fragility in this human body, when compared to his old self, that he could almost see his own uselessness. He could still fight with his old agility, but he doubted it would make any difference against a demon, the king of the crossroads, no less.
He hated how he had defeated Crowley centuries before, but had been ordered not to kill him. Raphael had ordered him to imprison Crowley, to teach him a lesson. Castiel should have disobeyed that. He now understood what he couldn't before: that not all his orders had been for a good cause. If he had killed Crowley, this wouldn't be happening.
John was strong and intelligent; he also had an anti-possession tattoo. They could succeed if they could come up with a plan. He didn't care if Death or any other angel would be angry with his intromission, but the moment Crowley threated Dean, he stopped being Heaven's business only; he was Castiel's business now. And John's, because Dean was his son, after all.
"He is a demon, he wouldn't give up. I am sure he is up to something as we speak. And don't forget nor Dean neither Sam have any idea he's around or how to fight him. Not to mention your wife."
"Ex-wife."
"Ex-wife, sorry."
"We could die trying."
"Wouldn't you die for your family, John Winchester?" Castiel squinted at John. "Didn't you say you wanted to atone for your sins?"
"What about you? Why would you die for Dean?" John asked suspiciously.
Castiel didn't hesitate. "He is my best friend. I would die for him in a heart beat."
"So you and him are – "
"Friends." Castiel thought it was better not to go into details. Dean's life was private, and he wasn't sure the man would want his father, of all people, to know they were together. "And does it matter now? I think we have more important things to discuss."
John sighed. "I guess not. You're right. I need to do something right for once on my life."
"I'm glad we are on the same page, then."
"So… how do we do it?"
…
"In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Amen."
Castiel started the summoning ritual with his heart thumping in his chest. If this didn't work, things would get ugly pretty fast.
"Pro sanctis Angelis et Archangelis, qui in cælo habitant."
They had chosen an abandoned house to do the summoning, in a neighborhood not too friendly, because no one would be frightened by screams, and Castiel suspected there would be many. The angel was counting on the fact that Crowley had no idea John had gotten the anti-possession tatoo. That and the sigils Castiel had drawn on John's wrist that morning with a black marker, would keep him protected, because Crowley wouldn't feel his presence until it was too late. If Crowley weren't stalking John, because if he were, they were already doomed.
As he spoke the latin words that summoned demons, he thought again about all the variables that needed to go right for this to work. They were too many, but Castiel didn't see any other way. Something had to be done about the demon, and soon, so there wasn't really any other choice but to do what he and John had agreed.
Sending a silent prayer to his Father for help, he finished the spell: "Armatum caelestis auctoritas, imperium apparebit Crowley!"
"Oh, really? Again? Have you never heard of giving up?" Crowley looked at the devil's trap he was standing on and rolled his eyes. "This is getting old."
Castiel looked at the short, chubby man, dressed in an expensive suit. "Crowley."
"That's me, honey. Like my new meat suit?"
"I want to make a deal."
Crowley arched his eyebrows. "Straight to the point, as always. I like that about you. But really? A deal with me? Do you think I'm gonna fall for that one?"
"I think you will at least listen, because I am willing to give you what you want."
"And that is…?"
"Me."
There was a pause, in which the demon simply looked at the angel, squinting. "Wow. I didn't see that coming. Why would you do that?" his tone was skeptical.
Castiel took a deep breath. "Because you're right. I love Dean Winchester, and I cannot let you harm him. Therefore, I am willing to put myself in your… hands, as long as you leave him alone." That much was true, anyway. Castiel was completely in love, and if their plan didn't work tonight, he would really make a deal with this filthy creature, so Dean would have a chance at a long life.
The demon frowned. "See? That's what I always say; love is a bad thing. It accomplishes nothing but misery. If it were any good, people wouldn't be so willing to die in its name. Frankly, Castiel, I thought you were better than this."
"Do we have a deal?"
"No so fast, hotshot. I want to know what you will gain from this. And why you didn't do it before."
"I hadn't… realized the extents of my feelings before."
"So you thought you should just come and open your heart to good old Crowley here?" the demon asked, with a chuckle.
"I still despise the very air you breathe, demon," Castiel said with contempt. "But I will do what I have to do to save Dean."
"Well, well, well, never thought I'd see the day. How the mighty have fallen."
"Do we have a deal?" Castiel insisted.
"You do realize that what awaits you down there is nothing but pain, don't you?" Crowley smirked. "Because once we seal the deal, there will be no way back. And everyone in Hell will want a piece of your wings, just to show as a trophy, even though you're not completely powered up."
Castiel actually gulped. If it would come to that, he would do it without a second thought. Still, it wasn't something he would ever look forward to. "I am aware," he said.
Crowley smiled, seeming satisfied with himself. "Shall we seal our deal with a kiss, then?" Castiel took a step forward, but the demon shook his head. "Nuh-uh. First you let me out of this devil's trap. Oh, and put your pretty blade on the floor on the other side of the room. How naïve you think I am?"
Castiel grimaced. "If I let you go, you will run."
"And lose the opportunity to take your pretty little face to Hell with me? Come on, baby, I'm a demon of my word."
"There is no such thing," Castiel muttered, but he walked to the other side of the empty room and slowly put his angel blade on the floor.
"Now let me out of this thing."
The angel walked slowly to the demon and, with the tip of the shoe, he erased part of the line drawn on the floor.
"Good, good. Now, honey, give me a kiss." Crowley beamed, opening his arms to Castiel. "What are you waiting for?"
Castiel took another step and he was face to face with Crowley. So close that just a few more centimeters and they would kiss. "I'd rather die."
"Huh?" The demon frowned, puzzled.
"Look up," Castiel whispered. And there, on the ceiling, another devil's trap was painted with beige ink, barely visible, but there nonetheless.
"Are you kidding m – "
"John!" Castiel yelled.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus," John's strong voice resounded through the room. "Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."
Crowley started to scream, covering his ears with his hands. "No! Stop this! Stop this right now!"
Castiel ran to the other adjacent room and came back with a bucket of holy water that he threw on Crowley. The demon fell on the floor with a scream, and Castiel started chanting along with John, that had been waiting, hidden in a cupboard under the stairs, and now was beside Castiel, reading from a book.
"Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos."
Crowley writhed in agony on the floor, screaming and looking around as if trying to escape. Castiel grabbed his blade and pressed it to Crowley's neck.
"Exorcizamus te," John started again, "Omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, draco maledicte"
Castiel kneeled close to the demon at the same time a red smoke started to leave the body of the man he was possessing. "Leave this poor man, unclean and unworthy creature. Your death is inevitable," he murmured, and he buried the knife in Crowley's thigh, making all the smoke leave the body, that fell on the floor.
"Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos." John finished for good measure, and the red smoke tried to escape through the window, but Castiel was faster, slashing through it with his blade. The smoke evaporated instantly, with a loud bang noise and a strong wind, and everything went quiet and still.
"You and him seemed pretty familiar with each other," John finally said.
"I have dealt with him before," Castiel admitted.
"And you didn't die? Wow, you don't happen to be the Van Helsing of demons, do you?" John asked, looking around.
"I don't understand that reference. And defeating him was too easy."
John's eyes almost popped out of his head. "You out of your mind? For a minute I thought you were really gonna kiss the bastard."
"It was too easy," Castiel repeated. "Everything went accordingly. But it was too easy, we didn't even have to fight him."
"I'm glad, because we wouldn't have lasted much. You know how strong that thing is?"
"Demons are cunning creatures, I'm amazed he fell for our bluffing."
John snorted. "He was a victim of his own pride, man. Thought you were alone, you offered him a deal and all."
"Perhaps. But we better keep our eyes open for a while. Don't let your guard down until you're sure he's really gone."
"I, um…" John hesitated. "I didn't hear everything you said, but… you really feel like that about Dean?"
Castiel looked at John with unflinching sureness. "I would die for him if it was required of me."
"But why would you need to die for him, man? I mean, the demon was after me, right?"
"Dean is your son," was all that Castiel said, not wanting to lie but unable to go into details.
"Shit, you're right. If he tried to possess me and realized he couldn't… he would turn to one of the boys or Mary."
"We needed to take this man to the hospital," Castiel said, looking at Crowley former host and anxious to change the topic.
"Nah," John shook his head. "Better if no one sees us with him. I'll call 911 and they'll come get him."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. Listen, what the hell was that talk about wings?"
Castiel felt his insides turn cold, but he kept an impassive face. "I thought you'd said you didn't hear everything we said. Maybe you heard wrong."
"Yeah, maybe," John grimaced and grabbed his cell phone. "Hello, 911?"