Oh, yeah, everything is unbeta'd. All my mistakes are my own. Also, didn't do quite as many re-reads and edits so there will probably be more mistakes than usual.
Disclaimer: Kripke owns all Supernatural characters. I'm only borrowing them.
Pairing: Dean/Castiel - very graphic. This is my first attempt at something like this because this muse wouldn't leave me alone. Please let me know what you think, constructively.
Overall Warnings: Rated M for swearing, graphic sexual content with S and M undertones, implied forced sexual torture and other adult subject matter.
Chapter 23 – The i (eye) Question
"Holy crap! Incoming! Run away! Run away!" Lucifer screamed in panic as Castiel unleashed another lethal burst of energy, equivalent to being at ground zero for a nuclear bomb. Lucifer quickly dived behind Michael, tripping the elder archangel and positioning him to be the one thrown almost through the wall this time. Lucifer scrambled to where Michael fell on the ground, groaning, and hid behind the prone body which was the only barrier in the whole freakin' box.
"What?" Michael groaned out dazedly. "Where . . .? What the hell? Quit hiding behind me, you big sissy! It's going to take both of us to take him down."
"How the hell did he get so freakin' powerful?" Lucifer whined with a slight whimper at the end.
Michael started to roll his eyes then just snapped, "He's obviously still in heat. I didn't think he'd been gone for a month."
"Get up, you pansies," Castiel growled menacingly but with underlying amusement. Everyone present could tell that he was really enjoying handing his brothers their lunches. "Want to call me a 'nerd angel' again? Or what was it you said, Luci? That I was whipped?"
"Yeah," Michael grumbled in disgusted agreement. "Smooth move there, Luci. Really inspired. No wonder you always end up here."
"Watch it," Lucifer bit back angrily. "Just because I'm brave enough to call it like it is. He is a nerd and he is whipped." Another blast blasted through them, burning away their skin.
As soon as they mended themselves, Michael panted heavily at the exertion of his grace, "Yeah, you're really brave, hiding behind me, like the little bitch you are."
"Like hell, I don't bottom!" Lucifer exclaimed with ire.
"Enough!" Castiel commanded loudly, grabbing their attention. "I am the one in charge here. Save your lover's spat for later."
"Lover's spat?" Lucifer choked out.
"As if," Michael denied with extreme distain.
Castiel arched his eyebrows at Michael and snarked tauntingly, "At least, I know how to keep my bitch under control and content enough that they don't go out and start apocalypses because they were bored. So now, tell me again, who is the whupped one here?"
In the back of his mind, Castiel swore he heard soft laughter far away in the back of his mind. The phantom scent of popcorn and Tabasco floated back there, as well. Gabriel, he thought instantly then threw it all out of his mind as he braced for his brothers' charge.
"Oh, he didn't," Michael growled irately while Lucifer acknowledged with grim anger, "Oh, he so did." They both snarled and attacked simultaneously and, thus, war of the boxed cage resumed.
- SPN - SPN -
Sam moved silently from where he'd been lounging against the kitchen cabinet by the coffee pot. He'd only been up about thirty minutes because he couldn't sleep anymore with so much on his mind, especially his worry over his brother. It was still really early in the morning. Sam glanced at his watch and saw that it was only five in the morning. He knew that Bobby would be up soon but he wanted to check on Dean one more time.
He peeked in on his brother and his eyes flew wide with surprise as he spotted another figure kneeling beside Dean's head. The small figure was also leaning over Dean's chest and it looked like they were. . . Dean moaned softly and Sam startled back when the actual purpose of what he'd been viewing actually became apparent. He clumsily backed into the wall then rebounded into the kitchen chair.
Dean startled awake at the sudden crashing sound and his eyes immediately found the trickster almost nose to nose with him. He jerked back while Gabriel did the same. Both of their eyes then flew to Sam in the kitchen doorway, stammering apologies, "I . . . I . . . sorry. . . was just checking and . . . uh, coffee. . .coffee's ready." A very red-faced Sam fled to the relative safety of the kitchen.
Gabriel shook his head slightly, observing sardonically, "Every time I think one of you are the weirdest human I've ever met the other does something weirder."
Dean opened his mouth intent on saying something only to close it at Gabriel's disclosure. He rolled his eyes up and to the right, trying to sort that out before he shook his head to clear it. He finally demanded hotly, "What the hell were you doing leaning over me like that?"
Bobby strolled into the room through the front side doorway and sat himself down at his desk with his cup of coffee. He sipped it as he listened to Gabriel explain irritably, "Trying to figure out what the hell is up with your creepy eye thing?"
"What creepy eye thing?" Dean snapped impatiently. "And did you have to get so freakin' close? Talk about creeps. You gave them to me."
"Then we're even because that eye thing of yours," Gabriel countered in kind and gestured toward him. "Beyond creepy. Beyond 'Exorcist/Chucky' creepy."
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Dean growled dismissively.
"I agree," Bobby input reluctantly. He hated agreeing with anything the damn trickster had to say but it had to be serious if it unnerved an archangel. That meant that they had to get to the bottom of it, whatever it was.
"Me, too," Sam added in the same tone as he came in with his cup of coffee and a ginger ale for Dean. He handed it to Dean as he passed him on the way back to his chair in front of Bobby's desk. His face was back to its natural complexion and he was able to look Dean in the eye now, thankfully.
"Someone want to clue me in here," Dean questioned with obvious irritation. He felt like they were all ganging up on him, which was bad enough. It was worse when he didn't even know what the hell was going on.
Everyone else glanced at each other. He guessed that they were trying to figure out who was going first. After less than a second, Bobby began the explanation irritably, "Remember a couple of months ago, when this idiot dropped you off and you insisted that they would never bother you again?"
Dean flinched at the memory and the censor in Bobby's tone but answered hesitantly, "Yeah."
"Well, before you woke up to tell us that particular lie, you were sleeping on that couch there and, well, I kept feeling like I was being watched. I glanced over at you and you were staring at me under your eyelids but that wasn't the weirdest part," Bobby slowly explained.
"Yeah," Sam jumped in to finish. "When Bobby mentioned it and I turned around to check, your eyes were moving back and forth like they should in REM sleep only they were going faster than that."
"But when I got up to get a closer look," Bobby interrupted with firm hesitancy, "the eye closest to me focused and tracked me specifically."
"And the whole time the other eyeball was continuing its back and forth movement," Sam recited uneasily, obviously remembering the eeriness of the event.
"Wait a minute," Dean interrupted with confusion. "Are you saying that one eye stayed on track while the other moved all over the place?"
"No, it tracked in its normal . . ." Sam corrected.
Dean shook his head and cut him off again, "Yeah, yeah, just one thing, though, my eyes don't work that way. Even when I have a severe concussion, they stay together. I mean, I'm sure there are some times when my eyes open slightly when I sleep. Hell, I remember that happening with Sam a lot when he was younger. Several mothers I asked at that time told me it was completely normal for kids to do that."
"But they didn't track you, did they, Dean?" Gabriel finally entered the fray with the serious question.
"No, they . . .," Dean trailed off uncertainly then paused for only a moment before he shook his head and reaffirmed, "it was a trick of the light. Had to be. What other explanation is there?"
"Don't know, Deano," Gabriel answered jauntily. "That's what we are trying to find out because, I got to tell you, I'm getting a whole Chevy Chase vibe from you."
"What? National Lampoon Chevy Chase?"
"No, more Modern Problems Chevy Chase," Gabriel elaborated easily.
"What? With the whole green aura and yellow spots," Dean continued with amused disbelief.
"More blue at the moment," Gabriel corrected thoughtfully after he cocked his head to the side in contemplation.
"Blue aura or spots?"
"Spots," Gabriel replied lightly.
Dean shrugged nonchalantly, still not believing a word of it. "Better than purple and pink, right?" Dean joked then dismissed, "I haven't been around any nuclear waste recently so why don't you stop freakin' Sam and Bobby out already?"
Gabriel blinked and drew his head back slightly in shock before acknowledging with serious contemplation, "Have to say that pink is definitely is not your color. Purple's not too bad, though. So, Deano, been moving any white mice or people around lately? With, you know, your mind?"
"Yeah, right," Dean snarked dismissively while he slowly stood. "Obviously not, since you haven't moved an inch yet. Now get the hell out and quit messing with them."
Gabriel rolled his eyes at this human's stubbornness and demanded curiously, "Where the hell do you think you're going?"
"To take a piss," Dean growled gruffly. "Why? Want me to bag it for you?"
"Maybe later," Gabriel opted with reservation.
"Whatever," Dean grumbled as he made his way to the bathroom.
Sam stared hard at Gabriel and questioned point blank, "Are you doing this, Gabriel?"
Gabriel glared slightly then grumbled irritably, "Do you think I'd be this concerned if I was? Hell, no, I'd be somewhere else laughing my ass off."
Bobby huffed impatiently, "I'm going to ask this one last time. Can all this be attributed to that demon infection Dean had a while back because I have to agree with Sam. He hasn't been completely the same since. He keeps having these strange problems that none of us have encountered before. To top that off, we can't find a single hide, or, hair of the damn thing."
"I honestly don't know," Gabriel answered completely truthfully then glanced up toward the ceiling before he continued. "But I will look into it. Just keep an eye on Tweedle Dean here and let me know if anything, including the eye thing, happens again. I swear this archangel gig is cutting into my playtime way too much." With a snap, Gabriel disappeared from the study while Sam and Bobby shared a glance.
Dean came out of the bathroom after going through his morning routine. He walked into the kitchen and called out, "What's for breakfast, Bobby? I'm starved."
Bobby rolled his eyes then replied hotly, "We need to make a run to the store."
"I would guess so. Why did you cook so much?" Dean answered back with an obviously full mouth.
Sam and Bobby exchanged another glance then hurried into the kitchen where they spotted a plateful of scramble eggs, another one full of sausage patties, another one full of bacon, another of pancakes and a final plateful of biscuits. Bobby stared in disbelief and started to caution, "Uh, Dean, I don't . . ."
Sam rolled his eyes, knowing the very late warning was pointless since it was too late to stop Dean. He shook his head before he observed dryly, "Well, we can just watch him to see if it's poisoned."
"Whatever," Dean dismissed nonchalantly. "God, this is so good." Dean continued to eat without concern until he was almost too full. Sam relented after a while and ate some of the feast as well while Bobby stubbornly kept watch over his idjits.
Dean finally leaned back and rubbed his stomach while he commented easily, "Well, thank you, whoever left that."
"You are so welcome, big boy," Gabriel accepted mockingly as he reappeared in the kitchen.
Dean sighed heavily but was way too contented to immediately snark at the annoying angel right now. After all, he'd just finished a four day sex-athon with Castiel, had slept more than normal and filled his belly with some really good food. Life was so good right now that he had a hard time finding fault with anything, or anyone, at the moment. Of course, it didn't take Gabriel long to change that feeling.
Gabriel paused at the lack of snark his entrance normally garnered. "Wait. Where's the snarky hate? The unreasoned anger? The . . . oh, crap, is he . . . wait. No way!"
Dean frowned then glowered slightly and snarked, "Don't you have some other thing to annoy? Somewhere? Anywhere? Preferably on another planet. In a different galaxy. Far, far away?"
"You know I can always tell when you're faking it, Deano," Gabriel cautioned meaningfully.
"Oh, wow! TMI, Gabriel," Sam snarked with disgust.
"Whatever, asshat," Dean growled lightly while he got up and stated to the room at large. "I'm going to check out my baby. Let me know when we have a hunt." He started to walk out of the room when Gabriel's voice stopped him.
"Not so fast, pretty boy," Gabriel warned slightly, causing Dean to turn face him. "I had one more question that needed to be answered." Dean started to snarl out a profane response but Gabriel interrupted quickly, "Not that one. I want to know what you were dreaming of earlier."
The instant smile on Dean's face was as telling as the amusement in his voice when he answered easily, "Cass is really a BAMF when he's pissed."
"The box," Gabriel acknowledged wryly with obvious relief.
"Yeah," Dean confirmed with a huge smile as he added, "also Luci is a huge coward, hiding behind Mikey all the time. Yeah, Cass is giving them a lot to think twice about."
"Like picking on him," Gabriel guessed easily with smug relief. "Good for him." Then he returned to the original question and verified, "So that's all that you've been dreaming about lately? Only the box?"
"Yep. Those are the only ones that I remember anyway and that's what I was dreaming this morning," Dean clarified with enough honesty to make anyone, including Sam, believe him because he so would never admit to the others, ever. No one ever needed to know that he dreamed those.
"So, no more visions?"
"Nope," Dean denied quite honestly and it was very true. He didn't consider the other ones visions. Not that they weren't creepy, or disturbing on many levels, because they really, really were. They just didn't seem the same as the visions.
Gabriel stared hard at him, apparently attempted to see inside him like Castiel always did, but Dean knew he couldn't which relieved him to no end. After a long staring moment, Gabriel finally relented, "Fine. Just tell me if anything strange or vision-ish happens. Don't need you flying over the cuckoo's nest again."
"Where are you heading?" Dean wondered curiously.
Gabriel arched an eyebrow but allowed the question, this time, "Balty's MIA so instead of hunting for the demon like we all need to be doing, I have to find him again. So, like I said, call me if something strange happens. Ciao."
Dean rolled his eyes and signed off with a snarl, "Later, asshat. Tell the stuck-up Peeping Tom that I said thanks and fuck him very much."
"You'd better watch what you say, Deano. You know how possessive angels can be, not to mention unbalanced at certain times," Gabriel cautioned sternly.
Dean smirked and turned away, stating honestly, "No worries. That little dick doesn't stand a chance. Hell, I could take him with my eyes closed."
"That would only aggravate the problem," Gabriel warned sternly, knowing it wouldn't do any good.
"Whatever. I can still kick his ass," Dean stated dismissively, ignoring everything the archangel was staying, as he headed out the kitchen then out the front door, intent on being one with his baby again.
- SPN - SPN -
Dean had moved the Impala into Bobby's garage since it was still dark out. Between the overhead light and a hanging light, Dean was able to start an oil change that he hadn't had the energy to do this the past few months. He set the oil to drain then progressed with the rest of his tune up.
He heard his big, younger brother lumber into the garage a little while later. He glanced over and made eye contact with Sam as he asked with dread, "We're about to have a talk, aren't we?"
"We need to," Sam insisted firmly as he leaned against the nearby work bench.
"No, we don't," Dean countered just as firmly. "You know I don't do chick-flicks. And I just got my haircut so I'm not due for the beauty salon anytime soon."
"Dean," Sam cautioned warningly.
"What, Sam?" Dean snapped back and straightened up, wiping his hands on a grease rag. "What is there to talk about anyway? There's nothing to care and share about. No one's died recently, for a change, so there's no need for us to hug, cry, or braid each other's hair, not that you could. I have guy hair where as you, on the other hand, definitely have girly hair that deserves to be braided, you hippie."
Sam rolled his eyes, determined not to be sidetracked by his brother. He knew how Dean worked and how he always tried to distract Sam to avoid talking. Sam held his ground and recited his list of questions firmly, "How about why the hell angels keep taking you away on secret missions? And how come you always come back totally drained, if not, almost comatose? How about your crazy visions of things that never happened and how that was never resolved? Or even the fact that you can now see what Castiel is doing through your 'profound' bond when you couldn't before. Could you?"
"No," Dean denied easily, "I couldn't before. It's probably related to the demon infection because that's when it started, along with all the other stuff. Which is why, even though I never want to see the SOB again, we have to find it, unfortunately."
Sam frowned thoughtfully and agreed, "Yeah, but we don't have a clue how to yet. It would really help if you could remember something about it. Have you remembered anything else?"
"No, I haven't," Dean asserted firmly. "In fact, Cass would probably be more likely to since he was actually conscious at the warehouse."
"You're probably right," Sam acknowledged with resignation. "Too bad we can't ask him."
"No," Dean confirmed slowly then added with inspiration, "But maybe Gabriel can."
Sam arched his eyebrows in surprise then finished with clarification, "Since he's an archangel. Yeah, that could work. When he gets back."
Dean nodded in acceptance then changed the subject, "In the meantime, any hunts?"
Sam sighed heavily, still worried about his brother, but knew that Dean needed the distraction. "A couple of things. Some strange deaths in Seattle, Washington. Might be vamps."
"Sounds promising," Dean agreed. "When do we leave?"
"Dean," Sam started but saw his brother's set face and knew arguing was no use. "Fine. I'll talk to Bobby and we can leave in a couple of hours."
"Works for me," Dean verified eagerly as he turned back to his baby.
Sam scoffed slightly then acknowledged wryly, "It's probably just as well."
Dean frowned and wondered curiously, "What the hell does that mean?"
Sam slowly headed out of the garage as he commented casually over his shoulder, "You need to keep busy if you're going to work off all the bacon cheeseburgers and other things you've been packing away."
"What the . . . Dude, did you just call me . . .?" Dean sputtered indignantly. "What the hell!"
"Oh, no, no, I mean," Sam teased wickedly, knowing he was getting under Dean's skin. "You are big-boned, right? Or is it just boned?"
"Sam!" Dean cautioned hotly, once again glad that his embarrassed flushed face was so similar to his angry flushed face. He was so very glad that Sam didn't know how close he was to the truth of the matter. He'd never live it done after all the things he'd teased Sam of over the years.
"Hey," Sam argued seriously from the garage doorway. "I'm the one who had to carry your unconscious ass out of the succubus's house and you are getting heavy, dude! You're about to lose that attractive waistline you are so proud of if you don't watch out."
"You know what? Bite me, you dick," Dean snarled angrily while Sam laughed mockingly as he hurried away from his brother's ire.
"Freakin' asshat," Dean grumbled angrily under his breath. He mumbled to himself a few minutes then stopped and frowned heavily. He cautiously scanned the area. Seeing that no one was around, he gently ran a hand over his abs.
Damn it, he cursed silently to himself, feeling all kinds of upset. They were right. He was putting on weight. Son of a bitch!
- SPN - SPN -
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review and let me know what you think. I have no idea what's going to happen next. Let me know if you do.