I know I said that the rating would go up in this chapter. Then it ran away with me and I realised that I needed to cut it back and split it into two chapters. There was far more explaining left than I had realised and it just carried on. Oops?
oOo
Were it not for the fact that Castiel can feel the flutter and pulse of Dean's soul within his grace his first thought at the hunter's collapse would be one of dread and panic. It is not something that he has time for, this worry, not with half a dozen aggravated angels looking at Dean and seeking revenge for the death of the last of the original four archangels. The death of the last remaining angel in Heaven to have seen the face of God. As the leader of the victorious side, however, Castiel is now the one in charge and as much as the others will not want to admit that, they are programmed to obey their superiors first.
"Enough!" He snaps as he moves through an instant to stand beside Dean's fallen form. "Raphael is fallen, this war is over. Return to Heaven and do nothing until otherwise ordered."
There is a moment of hesitation, like the others are unsure whether or not they should obey, then one by one they leave as commanded. This is not the end, Castiel knows, not nearly because there will be pockets of resistance among Raphael's followers. His kind are not ready, he is well aware, for the kind of freedom that he has discovered and it will take a long time to teach them. First of all, though, he needs to fix the mess that his former rival has made. First he needs to see if the bond created between he and Dean can be broken without causing further pain or damage to the hunter's soul.
Bobby Singer's home is the safest place, somewhere that he can take Dean and know that the occupants will protect him. He hopes, rather than knows for certain, that he can trust the two men with the 'angel-proofing' techniques he is about to show them. After all, if done incorrectly the results could be as bad for him as he hopes they will be for those of his enemies who are still out there.
"What happened?" Sam demands almost as soon as Castiel makes his presence known. Dean has been placed in the panic room already, his exhausted body arranged in a position the angel assumes would be comfortable should the hunter awaken.
"Raphael is dead, your brother is in the panic room."
"Alive?" Bobby demands, his hand already twitching towards his shotgun.
"For the moment," Castiel admits, "Raphael did a lot of damage in his quest to draw me out."
"Can you fix it?" Sam asks, genuine concern showing in his eyes and it fills Castiel with something like relief to know that the barrier between the shattered pieces of Sam's soul and the hunter's mind remains intact for the moment. The angel hesitates.
"I don't know," he mutters finally. "The damage that Raphael has done is extensive, there's no knowing exactly what condition Dean will be in when he wakes." He does not add the fear that rolls deep in his grace, the fear that Dean will never wake up and that the hunter's soul will never recover even if he manages to separate them. He cannot tell Sam and Bobby any of this, cannot let them know about his fears because he needs them to trust him and needs them to not question him.
Sam is pushing past him in that moment, marching down to the panic room and Castiel knows why. He knows that the younger Winchester needs to see for himself that Dean is alive. He does not try to stop Sam, does not do anything other than follow with Bobby hot on his heals. His friend is still unconscious, his skin pale and his eyes rimmed in black. The hunter looks frail like this, fragile in a way that makes Castiel's grace reach out to sooth the soul that rolls against the bond.
Dean should not look anything like this, it should not be possible for the hunter to be so damaged when he strives for strength at all times. Seeing the hunter like this hurts. His grace continues to ease across the hunter's soul, the movement soothing in a way that he has never before felt and for the briefest moment he realises that he will miss this closeness that he has never been able to have with any other. While Dean's soul begins to calm, and even return the consoling gesture, the hunter's eyes pop open and he starts to scream.
"Dean!" Sam grabs hold of his brother's shoulders, attempting to make the older man stop and only gaining himself a fist in the face as Dean lashes out. This is not the way that Castiel wants things to go, this is not the way that it is best for Dean to return to his family. The angel steps forward, passing his fingers over Sam's forehead and passing the information he needs to directly into the hunter's mind. This is not the way that he likes to do things, not the way that he prefers to give information to his friends. It is necessary this time, however, and Zachariah proved any number of times that information can be manipulated within the human mind.
Sam looks up at him from where he is still sprawled on the floor, understanding filling his expression. Then he is on his feet, laying a hand on Bobby's shoulder and taking the older hunter out of the room with him as Castiel places a hand on Dean's chest. The hunter stills, opening pain filled green eyes to stare up at his friend.
"Cas?"
"I am here, Dean," the angel whispers, feeling the brush of one of his brothers against his mind.
"It hurts," the hunter admits and the words make Castiel's very grace ache. Dean has been so strong for so long that to hear him own up to actually being in pain is something that Castiel never wants to see, never wants to hear. "What's happening. What did that dick do to me?"
"Us, Dean," Castiel admits as he hears the arrival of his brother, of Joshua venturing from his garden for the first time in millennia. "Raphael has done this to us both and I don't know how to fix it. I don't think it can be fixed."
"It's already gone too far for that, Castiel," Joshua speaks finally. There is a sorrow to the voice of the gardener, sorrow for a brother lost and a time ended. "Had the circumstances between the two of you been different perhaps the bond would not have progressed so far. Given the situation, however…"
Castiel nods, having long suspected that his own deep affection for Dean would have an affect upon the nature of the bond between them. He has been fond of Dean for a long time, a fondness that has only served to strengthen the bond that he has shared with the hunter even with the barrier that the angel had put in place upon his retrieval of the soul in the first place.
"So this is my fault?" Dean asks and Castiel looks at him sharply. Since this started, since Raphael took Dean and smashed through the barrier that the angel created to protect the hunter, Castiel had expected to be the one blamed upon Dean's rescue. The hunter, however, is also well known for trying to take the blame for all things upon himself, well known for sacrificing himself for the sake of the ones that he cares about and Castiel had never suspected that he could fall into that category.
Castiel has never once suspected that there would be some tenderness of feeling towards him on Dean's part as well.
oOo
This is his fault. The thought plays through his mind continually even while Castiel stares at him with those bright blue eyes that are always so unreadable. This is his fault because if he had never allowed himself to care about Castiel more than he should, never allowed himself to feel the loss of his friend so keenly when the angel returned to Heaven, perhaps his need to keep his friend nearby would not have tied them together this way. Perhaps the thoughts of taking the angel and sullying him at his own hand would never have been allowed to take hold.
It has never simply been the desire to tarnish the angel, however, though that would have been far easier to shrug off as nothing more than a brief fantasy. It is the emotion that he attaches to his friend that has stuck with him, the need to have more than just a brief night with a being who knows so much about him. A being who knows all the things that he has done and who still offers friendship and aid to a man with a soul so shattered and blackened that he cannot believe that he deserves it.
"This is not your fault, Dean," Castiel insists, voice low and so intense that it rushes through the hunter. For a moment the agony that courses through him lessens too, the burn where brilliant fire melds with his soul seems to become nothing more than a soothing warmth. "If the fault should lie with either of us, it should be placed at my door."
"Perhaps you should consider that neither one of you are to blame," Joshua interjects before Dean can argue his point, before Dean says something that he knows he will later regret. "The bond between you was already powerful, despite Castiel's best efforts to ensure that a distance was maintained, shattering the barrier that he created only served to allow that bond to assert itself more strongly."
"How?" Castiel demands and it is a relief to know that the angel is as in the dark as Dean is.
"Your emotional attachment to one another. Many bonds have been formed since the creation of man and angel, but only those with an emotional connection have ever been this strong," Joshua elaborates, eyes darting between them and sparkling with the vaguest hint of amusement. Dean finds himself inexplicably enraged by it even as a part of him soars in relief when he realises that this means that there must be some reciprocation from his friend. "I think, perhaps, you both need to examine the connection that has made this bond so powerful and then finish what has been started."
"Joshua," Castiel stops the other angel from leaving and Dean is almost grateful for that because he is not ready to look into his soul just yet. "If I had gone to him sooner, if I had stopped Raphael sooner, would it have made a difference?"
"Does it matter?" Joshua replies and is gone in the moment between heartbeats.
The pain is beginning to get worse again, flooding through him as Castiel's concern increases and the angel's wings flicker with his agitation. Dean stares at them, utterly transfixed. He should not be able to see them, he knows, the very fact that he has should have burnt his eyes from his sockets. His attention does not stay on the wings for long, does not linger on the way that they seem to dance and flutter as Castiel remains silent, because pain tears through him again and he doubles up on the bed.
"Dean," Castiel's voice breaks this time as he speaks, his normally expressionless face contorted with his concern. "I'm sorry, I don't know how to fix this."
The hunter reaches for the angel, curling his hand around Castiel's wrist and squeezing in an attempt to deal with the agony that is the angel's grace connecting to his soul. He cannot continue like this, the constant agony a stark reminder of Hell and the torture that he went through for thirty years.
"Then how do we finish it?" He snaps, if completing the bond is what it will take to stop him from collapsing in pain every time that Castiel becomes concerned or annoyed he intends to do it. His ability to see the angel's wings, he realises, must come from this bond that has been forming between them. The pain is becoming too much again, however, blackness is hovering on the edges of his vision.
"Look at me, Dean," Castiel demands, covering the hand that still clings to his wrist with his own. The touch is like a balm on an open wound, though whether it is because the bond needs it or because Dean has wanted it for longer than he cares to contemplate he cannot be certain. It is clear that Castiel has noticed the effect too, clear that he has noticed the way that the grimace on Dean's face has lessened.
Dean reaches a conclusion in that moment, realises that whether Castiel feels the same way or not this bond is based off his own dark needs and unwanted emotions. He reaches for the angel and in this moment he hardly cares what Cas wants or needs, he simply threads his fingers through a shock of messy black hair and presses his lips to those of his friend.
Ok, so I promise that the rating increase will happen in the next chapter. Promise on Castiel's big blue eyes.
Artemis