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.
- SPN - SPN -
Chapter 45 – The Relief
"If you don't back away from me right now, I will stab you and I do have an archangel blade," Dean warned Lucifer tautly through clenched teeth.
Lucifer smirked at him mockingly then told Castiel, all the while staring Dean in the eye, "Let me know, Cassie. Considering how much I want to mess up his pretty boy face, especially with all the white stuff, I can well imagine . . ."
"Lucifer, leave now," Castiel commanded menacingly.
"Fine, but don't you two go disappearing on us again," Lucifer cautioned conspiratorially. "We do have a party to do after all." He turned and flounced away, calling out energetically, "Anyone up for karaoke? Let's get this party started!" Several groans filled the room.
Dean growled at Castiel, "Seriously, Cas? Odd Couple with the not-so-Beautiful Minds is supposed to protect us now? Really?"
"I do not trust them, either, Dean." Castiel admitted easily then rebutted, "But what option do we really have? Isn't this a better way to keep an eye on them?" Dean rolled his eyes then closed them and groaned when he heard Lucifer's annoying voice again.
"We need the bride, or other life partner, and the groom slash other other life partner, front and center, in the kitchen please," Lucifer announced firmly. "Chop. Chop. Let's move it, people. "
Dean glanced at Gabriel's mocking expression and commented pointedly, "And I really thought you had to be the most annoying one."
"In your dreams, big boy," Gabriel mocked lightly then advised patiently, "Better get in there. He won't stop until you do."
Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes but stomped into the kitchen to get it over with. He really hoped that he could get through this family circus without killing someone, especially himself. He felt Castiel follow close behind him with Gabriel and the others bringing up the rear.
Dean clenched his teeth and attempted to grin and bear it as Lucifer began the party with a toast. Unfortunately, neither one of them got very far as Dean's temper got the better of him before Lucifer could even finish his introductory statement. "We are gathered here today to welcome . . ."
"Oh, shut the hell up, douchebag," Dean snapped irritably. "Everyone here knows how everyone else feels about each other so can the crap speech."
"Dean," Castiel started patiently but Dean ignored him.
"Besides," Dean continued irritably, "Anyone who knows anything about us knows we prefer chocolate and pie."
Gabriel snapped his fingers and a chocolate meringue pie appeared on the table next to the cake. He advised cynically, "Just cut the cake and let the party start, Deano. Then you and Cassie can . . . resolve your private . . . issues . . . privately."
"What 'private' issues?" Dean demanded defensively.
"Seriously?" Sam snapped incredulously but quickly warned Gabriel, "Do not answer that, Gabe! Don't. Need. To. Know."
"Just cut the damn cake so we can move this dog and pony show on down the road," Bobby barked out gruffly.
Dean glared at Bobby but went ahead and cut the cake as requested. He huffed irritably over the whole production but begrudgingly allowed Castiel to hold on to the knife as they both cut the cake, desperately trying to ignore the rush of heat that ran through him from that very familiar warm hand touching his. Dean flinched in surprise at the sudden camera flash.
"Okay, now you two love birds need to feed eat other a piece. Show us the love. Remember this is a once in a lifetime moment, especially for you, Deano, since yours is, oh, so very short. We're making memories here, people," Lucifer directed professionally, having materialized a high end camera. With the strap around his neck, he took more snapshots of the couple after they cut the cake. He briefly moved the camera away from his face as he adlibbed glibly, "Oh, and feel free to smash o smear it on each other's faces. But faces only, mind you. After all, there are children present. 'Kay? Awesome."
Dean growled threateningly at the annoying Devil but Castiel gripped his hand tightly and whispered softly, "We can leave now, if you want."
Dean slowly exhaled to gather his cool. He wanted to leave badly, very badly. But he also wanted to talk to Bobby and Sam about all this crap since he hadn't really had the time to do that yet. He stared at Castiel a moment and, as their eyes met, he transferred his conflicting thoughts to his mate.
He suddenly felt a building, familiar, but very unwelcome sensation and quickly sent a command to Castiel since they were still linked. He really hoped that he got his message in before the bad bad happened. He felt his collar latch pop free as soon as the room froze and thanked Castiel, and his Father, that it had worked. He sighed heavily and wiped his right hand down his face, surreptitiously loosening the collar even more.
"Hey, baby, I'm home," she announced from behind him as her arms came up and hugged him around his abdomen. "Did you miss me? How have my two favorite babies been? Getting big I see."
Dean jerked away quickly and swung around to face her. "Back off, skank, and hands off the merchandize! You are definitely not, and never will be, an approved user."
"Aw, come on, baby. Don't be that way," she dismissed lazily. "After all, think of all the fun we had together."
Dean scoffed derogatorily, "You mean all the fun you had. I had no fun. I was the one being tortured for hours. Definitely not fun."
"Oh, you know you loved it," she snarked tauntingly then gave him a condescending look and clarified confidently, "Now just think how bad it would have been for you if you hadn't been so properly, thoroughly stretched when your 'twue wuve' showed up."
"Actually, I would have preferred it that way," Dean insisted firmly. "Don't kid yourself. You really haven't done me any favors, witch."
"Oh," she commented with disbelieving surprise, "and what about the baby you carry, Dean?"
"That was all Cas," Dean asserted firmly. "You had nothing to do with that."
"Didn't I?" She verified confidently. "Exactly who do you think gave him the knowledge to begin with, bitch?"
Dean mouthed the repeat of the word then shook his head and reaffirmed, "Not you. Probably those freakin' Levis. After all, they're older than dirt and know all that crap."
This time, she scoffed dismissively, "In your dreams. The Levs would have never imparted that to him under any circumstances. They hate angels and, well, every living and non-living thing. Adding a new race to be destroyed would have never crossed their minds, especially one like this. In fact, no creature would. Crossing the power of Heaven with the imagination and spirit of man? No. Why do you think the Nephs were so hunted?"
"Then why make it happen?" Dean prompted curiously.
She cocked her head to the side in a manner reminiscent of his angel and smiled softly before she allowed generously, "Found my mom's recipe book. Was curious. Of course, we made some adjustments but then that's what experimentation is all about."
"What adjustments?" Dean snapped out with instant concern.
"Nothing to concern your gorgeous, pretty boy head about," she soothed mockingly.
"How do you figure that?" Dean demanded irately. "It's my kid."
"No!" She renounced forcefully. "It's mine. My creation. I only allowed you two lovebirds to . . . mix it up for me but now I've come to claim what's mine."
"Like Hell," Dean argued adamantly. "It's my kid and you aren't getting it, bitch. Besides it's not ready yet."
"How would you know?" she countered mockingly. "How would anyone know, considering no one that you know, besides me, knows how long it takes?"
Color drained from his face at that excellent, irrefutable point. He couldn't help the hoarsely asked question that squeaked at the end, "It . . . it's . . . time?" Thankfully, no one present heard so he had complete deniability.
She smirked at him for a long, sweaty moment but finally she admitted ruefully, "No, not yet. Actually it's about as long as normal human reproduction as far as I can tell but then, we will find out soon, no? You are how many months now? Six-ish?"
Dean swallowed thickly at the reminder of the upcoming birth and swiftly moved on to the non-emotional part of the current discussion then observed arrogantly, "Well, guess you'll have to just leave here empty handed for now then. What a bitch, huh?"
She smiled widely then smirked confidently, "You wish, you pathetic ape man. No. On the contrary, I found the right recipe for something new. Lucky for you, and your . . . sweet, pre-delivery tight ass."
"And what might that be?" Dean questioned casually, trying to hide his growing concern. "Your own love connection? Chemistry dot come? Cause I got to tell you, we really don't appreciate your interest our love life."
"Aw, now, come on, Deanie," she taunted patronizingly while pitching his left cheek like the old grandmother most children hated to visit. "You know very well that you and Castiel would have never given in to all that eye-sexing if it hadn't been for me. Mr. I'm-Straight-As-An-Arrow would still be making fun of the Stick-In-The-Ass Angel instead of having said angel sticking it to you if it wasn't for me. You really should thank me, you know. A little appreciation would be nice for a change," she finished irately.
"You are threatening to take my child, you bitch," Dean snarled in kind. "How in the hell do you expect thanks for that?"
She shot her eyes over to the frozen archangels and mocked, "You really think they will help raise it? They'll kill it at the first chance they get. I, and only I, can keep it safe."
"How is taking the bun out of the oven before it's done keeping it safe?" Dean bit out irritably.
She smiled widely again and consoled easily, "Now see, that's where you're wrong, baby." She slowly ran her hand over his slightly rounded abdomen as she continued, "I'm not about to endanger this precious thing. No. I found the right recipe to shift vessels." Dean's blood turned to ice while his heart rate increased at the horrifying thought that he knew was about to become reality. She smirked in response to his body's tells, "That's right, honey. Baby's moving on up to the top. Its new mother's body who actually has a body built to handle it."
"NO!" Dean screamed in terror and pain as he felt the burning sensation flaming through his entire abdomen. He felt the telekinetic pull against his child and growled while he mentally fought the bitch's powers and physically tried to force her hand away from his body. He hoped that action would lessen her powerful pull on his baby because it honestly felt like she was ripping his insides out of his body, which he supposed was pretty darn accurate assessment of his fucked up situation. Even so, he wasn't about to give up his baby to anyone, especially an evil monster bitch from the freakin' Mother of All monsters. It was amazing how protective he'd become of the rugrat and it wasn't even born yet.
In that single instance, he knew the poor thing was going to have hell with his overprotectiveness, no matter what its sex was. He just prayed to anyone who could hear him, and care, that it would still be with him at that time so that he could make both their lives miserable. And, if that wasn't warped, he didn't know what was but that was him. Screw anyone who didn't like it.
A sudden burst of white light exploded and he flew across the kitchen then slammed into the pantry door, breaking it and falling through it. His head flopped back in response to the force applied and hit a shelf breaking it before his injured head finally bounced off the floor. Gravity sent the precariously perched food cans from the broken shelf down toward his throbbing head. He barely had enough coherency to raise his arms up to protect his head from more blows.
"What the hell?" she shrieked with outrage from outside the pantry. "What did you do? What the hell did you do?"
Dean winced both from the pain in his head and her obnoxious shrieking that was once again, hurting his head. His barely opened eyes peered at her blurry face through the broken door while he growled out weakly, "Oh, shut the hell up. I'm the one who went flying through the freakin' door. You have nothing to bitch about so stuff it, you greedy skank."
She reached in and grabbed him to pull him out but another burst of white light met her hand, causing her yelp in pained surprise. She snatched her hand back and glared at him, "What have you done?"
Dean panted lightly through his pain and tried to get his vision back to normal while he snarked mockingly, "Looks like you pissed off the kid already. Great going, Mommie Dearest. Better watch before it goes Mendes on your ass. Apparently it already likes me better. Go figure. Smart kid. That means that I get full custody on this one, you mother humper. Just sign the papers when you are served." She growled irately and moved forward with very obvious harmful intent.
He scooted back further into the pantry, praying that Gabriel or Castiel could free themselves since he knew he had her complete and total focus now. He knew that they, he and the kid, couldn't take much more and he really needed help. He almost passed out with relief when he heard a new voice command harshly, "Stop. Now."
They both starred at each other for a second in surprise because it wasn't a male voice. Considering the only other beings in the vicinity were definitely male, they were understandably confused. Trinity slowly turned to face the newcomer. Dean gathered his wits and body together so that he could use this to his advantage, if he had to.
"Who the hell are you?" Trinity snapped with outrage. Nothing was going to plan right now so she was understandably pissed off. Who knew collecting this one child was going to be such a pain in the ass? She totally ignored those who had warned her about Dean Winchester and his perchance for destroying all plans that involved him.
"Your mother," the white clad shining woman answered gently. She wore a white toga and had her curly blonde hair styled with golden braids. She looked exactly like one of the statues of the Greek goddesses.
Trinity stared at the woman in shock for a long moment before she shook her head and asserted adamantly, "No. My mother is dead. He killed her." She motioned toward Dean who was slowly climbing to his feet, using the non-damaged shelves to help pull his body into an upright position.
"No, child," the goddess argued firmly, "she stole you from us and made you believe that. You know as well as I that if you were truly her daughter, you wouldn't have to use other begins to create a new race. Did you never wonder why it was so hard for you to master her easiest creature?"
"But . . ." She stumbled hesitantly then shook her head and reasserted firmly. "No. You lie."
"I do not," The goddess returned affronted. "However, since you will not take my word for it, touch my hand then you will see all."
Trinity shifted uneasily. She wouldn't admit that she felt something strange for this being. She felt the power radiating off of the woman, of course. But what really bothered her was that it felt familiar. Too familiar. She glanced at the other frozen figures in the room to make sure they were still under control then back at the woman.
The woman seemed to know how she felt because she continued to smile gently then cajoled honestly, "What have you got to lose? One touch and all will be answered. Or did you never have any questions to begin with?"
She frowned heavily, not liking the fact that the woman seemed to know her so well. She glanced over at Dean who was climbing out of the pantry then motioned with her hand and his back was slammed into the nearby wall. He let out a pained moan while she ordered tautly, "Don't move."
Trinity moved forward hesitantly and barely pressed her left index finger against one of the woman's outstretched fingers. She gasped in surprise as images flooded her mind and she fell to her knees under the weight of them. She knelt with her head bowed while the woman maintained contact with her at all times.
Dean stared at Trinity with pleased shock then mentally forced his mind to refocus itself. He glanced over at Castiel but the woman called out to him, "I wouldn't do that, Dean Winchester. She really is my daughter and I don't take attacks against my family lightly."
"Neither do I," he bit out harshly.
She slightly nodded her head in acknowledgement then continued with clear warning in her tone, "She was stolen from me before . . . well, way before your race was even a thought in your angel's father's mind. In other words, very long time ago."
"I thought she was destroyed," Dean countered with confusion.
"No," she answered sadly. "No, she was stolen but no entity wanted to admit that something more . . . cunning than us could manage that. We quickly figure out where she was taken but it was too late then."
"Because she was in Purgatory," Dean concluded slowly. "And there were worse things that would get out if you went in after her."
"Unfortunately, yes. And, in all honesty, we really believed her dead, destroyed, by those . . . inside."
Dean narrowed his eyes at that fact, having a hard time with both scenarios. Leaving the child in there with all those vicious monsters as well as opening it or possibly letting the Levs out for that single child. He sincerely hoped that he never needed to make that call, like ever.
"You are right, Dean," the woman intoned sincerely. "You never want to have to make that choice. But, perhaps now that you know what all is in there, you will do more to make sure something like that never happens again. You and your angel."
Dean narrowed his eyes and demanded hotly, "Is that what all this has been? A test? A freakin' dream? Some wacked out pagan god thing?"
She narrowed her own eyes at him and wondered patiently, "What do you think?"
"Why are you here?" He prodded firmly.
"Because I felt my daughter and came to get her," she answered easily.
"But she's been doing this crap . . ."
She cut him off and pointed with her other hand to the symbol on his chest while she informed him, "That symbol was created a long time ago to symbolize the harmonic unity of three powers. It symbolizes her. Her creation. When her power is used on whatever the symbol is protecting, it summons her creators."
"Creators?" he repeated nervously with searching eyes.
"Relax," she consoled nonchalantly. "I am the only one showing up at this meeting. Goodbye, Dean Winchester."
"And just who in the hell are you? Freakin' Aphrodite? Athena? A-muse-d?" He snarked snidely.
"Hardly," she sneered arrogantly. She paused thoughtfully then answered shortly, "That is, how do you mortals state it, on a need to know basis and you, mortal, don't need to know." She moved in a manner that seemed to signal she was leaving but he couldn't let it go just yet.
"Wait!" he cried out suddenly. She paused and looked at him expectantly. He swallowed thickly while she waited then he finally demanded forcefully, "What's going to happen now?"
"My daughter and I are finally going home," she summarized unnecessarily.
"Yeah. I get that. I meant what happens with me and my . . ."
She smiled softly and told him honestly, "I have no designs on your child, Dean, and I will make sure that my daughter doesn't, either. As for your friends here, well, that's not my business, obviously."
"So I get to keep it?" Dean verified incredulously then expounded with excessive frustrated confusion. "How . . . Is it . . . Is this a test? Or something . . . I mean, I . . . I just don't freakin' get it." He ran a hand through his short hair, wincing at the sore spots that he brushed past.
She bit her lip slightly and he could tell that she was about to laugh at him so he huffed irritably and threw up his hands in frustration. She advised with slight laughter in her voice, "That is nothing to do with me. You are speaking to the wrong person but I do wish good luck with all that. Everyone knows that children are a mixed blessing, even for gods and goddesses. But I still love them all."
In a blink of an eye, both the goddess and Trinity were gone. Dean exhaled heavily and let his eyes close as his knees finally gave out and his body slid down the wall. He only vaguely heard the room come back to life while darkness consumed his mind.
- SPN - SPN -
He heard someone grumbling to themselves then saw, and felt, a bright white light flutter in his face. He winced at the pain it caused him but was thankful that it wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be. In fact, it seemed to getting better now that he actually thought about it.
"Sparky, come back here," a familiar voice ordered softly. "The boy needs his rest, don't ya, sonny?"
Dean sighed heavily, knowing he wasn't going to get any of his much needed rest anytime soon. He slowly pried his eyes open but the most they would go was barely halfway. He saw the old man in the worn old robes and crooked hat munching on a piece of cake. A piece of wedding cake. He groaned softly, partially unable to believe how strange his life could get sometimes.
The old man cracked a crooked grin at him as if he knew exactly what Dean was thinking. Then again, he probably could. That thought caused Dean to flush, remembering all the times he had cursed the, uh, being.
The old man smirked knowingly and commented satirically, "I would expect you to mend your ways but I honestly cannot remember if I made you capable of that."
"I doubt it," Dean snarked honestly.
"Funny. I do, too," the old man cackled for a moment and Dean couldn't help the short chuckle in response which caused him a slightly groan at the pain in his abdomen. He placed a hand over it and worried for his baby as he waited for a response that didn't come. The old man watched him and cautioned sagely, "It might need rest as well. You have both had a big day, after all. Of course, I couldn't say for sure."
"Why the hell not?" Dean snapped irritably.
"Well," the old man drawled out slowly but with a hint of conspiracy, "Because . . . that would be telling now, wouldn't it?"
Dean rolled his eyes at that foolishness and only felt a hint of pain thankfully so no concussion. Good. He'd been concussed too many times in his lifetime. He certainly didn't need anymore.
"Well, thanks for the assist there, Gramps," Dean snarked irately, physically and mentally unable to keep some things, in no matter the danger or protocol.
The old man narrowed his eyes at Dean and wondered cautiously, "What makes you so sure that I didn't help? Or do you not remember our last visit? Did your father do everything for you? Always? Or did he just give you the necessary skills, resources, contacts . . . instincts . . ."
Dean narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and reached up as it came to him. He touched the necklace that Gabriel had given him and saw the old man's eyes twinkle. He took a bracing breath then demanded, "Why the hell do you have to make everything so difficult?"
"If it was easy, would it be worth it?" the man countered wisely, knowing that he had stumped Dean with that one.
The ball of light zoomed past his eyes and ran into the old man's hat. It wobbled slightly then fell onto the brim of the hat. Dean sighed wearily, knowing what was about to happen. He opened his mouth to warn the old man, only to have the man cut him off.
"Don't some . . . movies . . . shows need to be remade because the originals ended so very, very badly?"
"What are you saying?" Dean wondered nervously.
"I would have never ended 'IT' that way. That's for certain. Talk about lame," the man admitted conspiratorially. "Sometimes the writers don't know what the hell they are doing. Or did you like seeing Dr. Sexy in tennis shoes?"
"Then why not rewrite the whole thing? Why just one . . ."
"Because some things had to happen, others never should have," the old man confided but Dean only stared at him uncomprehendingly.
The old one sighed heavily then advised, "You worry too much, young man, over, well, everything but mainly over things that you shouldn't. Sometimes a gift is just a gift. A second chance is simply another chance to get it right. Neither is a bad occurrence if you don't want them to be."
Dean stared at him nonplussed for a moment then rasped out tightly, "That's never been my experience."
"Are you sure about that, sonny?"
The old man narrowed his eyes at the world weary young old man before him. He stared at him so intently that Dean swore he could see through to his blackened soul, even though they both knew that the old man didn't need to. Dean dropped his eyes quickly, desperately, trying to ignore his embarrassment, unworthiness and unease. For a long moment, neither being moved nor spoke. Both of them lost in their own thoughts then, inevitably, Dean smelled smoke and sighed with wry amusement.
"Hey, Dumbledore, your Sorting Hat's on fire. Again."
- SPN - SPN -
Any guess on who the goddess was?
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review and let me know what you think.
My muse is hinting that there will be a wrap up chapter next. That should be all unless I get a large outcry for an epilogue.
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