Although Dean didn't say it out loud, he was relieved about Balthazar's visit. The news about Cas was not what either of them had expected or wanted, but at least now Cas knew why he was back. Dean hoped now that Cas knew the truth, he would be able to move on with his life. He knew it wouldn't be easy. Cas would live and die as a human, and when he returned home, it wouldn't be as an angel. This had to be overwhelming and he just hoped that Cas would come to accept it.
Dean also felt a new hope for getting Sam out of Lucifer's cage. The truth was that so far, neither of them had found any leads. Dean had actually entertained the notion of summoning Crowley before, but he had been sure that the Demon was dead, or at least still in heading somewhere. Dean hadn't entertained the notion that Crowley would be out in the open, let alone crowning himself the new leader of the underworld. Although Dean wasn't a fan of any demon, he actually kind of liked Crowley. He had more sense than your average hell spawn and he had never tried to kill Dean or his brother. He had been a strange ally to have during the battle against Lucifer, but he had proved useful more than once. There may be a chance that Crowley felt he owed Sam, and Dean also knew that Crowley might be the only demon in all of Hell that would be willing to make a deal with him. He wasn't going to say anything about that second part to Cas though. He knew if Cas thought he was willing to make a deal, he wouldn't go along with any plan of Dean's.
"Well, that was unexpected." Cas said. Despite everything, they were trying to finish their dinner.
"So Balthazar was a close friend of yours?" Dean asked.
"He was one of my closest confidantes in Heaven." Cas said, nodding. "He always was a little more mischievous than your average angel and like Gabriel, he always thought more for himself. I'm not surprised he's risen in the ranks."
"You okay with the civil war part of it and everything?" Dean questioned. As soon as it came out of his mouth, Dean knew it was a stupid question. Of course Cas wouldn't be happy over the slaughter of thousands of his brothers and sisters, nor would he be happy about the prospect of war in Heaven.
"I never dreamed there were factions. Back then, I couldn't. I never dreamed of rebelling, nor did I think any other angel would." Cas said, shaking his head. "But I am glad that Gabriel is in charge and that Raphael is dead. I think it's for the best. It was time for a change. I really, well, I can't think too much about that right now. How are you?"
"I'm relieved to have some closure about Bobby." Dean admitted. "But I hope Balthazar wasn't lying. I hope Bobby truly is at peace. I wish I could have gotten at those demons myself though."
"Balthazar wouldn't lie about something like that, Dean. He may be many things, but he is not a liar. If he was, he would have told you he couldn't get Sam out, not given you his word to try to help or the hint about Crowley. He wouldn't have made any effort." Cas said.
Dean was sure trusted Castiel enough at this point to take his word about the angel.
"How do you think we go about summoning Crowley? He's the king of Hell now, so the spell is going to require more juice than your average spell for a crossroads demon." Dean wondered, amazed that he was actually considering summoning 'the New Lucifer.'
"I know a spell that may work." Cas said. He looked slightly ill as he admitted this.
"What? Cas, how?" Dean said. "Wait, did you know that Crowley was the new big wig down there? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Of course I didn't know, Dean!" He snapped, obviously offended by the insinuation. "I have been privy to as much information as you have been these last months. There is a specific spell for high ranking demons such as Crowley. I used it to summon Alastair."
"The time you had me torture the son of a bitch? When your angel buddy let him go and then he almost killed me?" Dean asked, shuddering at the memory of disemboweling Alastair while Cas watched.
"Yes, that time, Dean." Cas muttered. "Alastair was the de facto King of Hell, you know."
"Let's move on." Dean hissed.
He did not want to remember how Cas had asked him to torture Alastair. He didn't want to remember a time where Cas would ask him to do anything like that.
"Fine." Cas mumbled. "Anyway, we actually have most of the ingredients here. We'll need a lot of space, a very sturdy Devil's Trap, and well, blood. Your blood."
"How much blood?" Dean asked. He hated having to bleed for these bastards.
"Less than a liter. Not enough to kill you." Cas said.
"Less than a liter? Cas, that's a hell of a lot of blood!" Dean cried. "Not enough to kill me? You make it sound so easy."
"Easy? I never said it was easy. Why do you think I hesitated to tell you about this spell? Why do you think I haven't suggested something like this before? Dean, do you think I like the thought of bleeding you to summon something like Crowley?" Cas said, looking hurt.
Dean stared at Castiel. He looked so insulted. Dean couldn't help what he had said and the feelings of distrust that were now coursing through his veins. Cas bringing up Alastair had quickly created all sorts of negative energy between them. Dean was remembering the ice cold eyes of the angel when he had first entered Dean's life. He remembered Pamela's eyes burning out at the sight of Cas. He remembered when Cas was nothing but a soldier, and how emotionless he had been in the beginning. Dean remembered how easily Cas had put him up to something like torture just months after he escaped from Hell and how easy it had been for Cas himself to kill.
He's a totally different person now. He wasn't even a person then. He gave up everything for you and he's the reason you're here right now.
"I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't mean to be an asshole." He said softly.
Cas opened his mouth to say something, but appeared to brush it off. "The barn where you go to work on the cars should be large enough. We'll need something hardier than spray paint to keep Crowley contained though." He said instead, keeping them on point.
"Don't worry about the Devil's Trap. Bobby covered the entire barn and this house. He even carved them on the floor. After he was possessed and lost his legs for awhile, well, he was paranoid. There are devil traps on the hardwood floor beneath the carpeting in this house. Man, I love it when things are this easy." He said, smiling at the memory of him and Bobby 'decorating' the house with traps.
"Dean… I wouldn't call this easy. But if that is the case with the Devil's Traps, then we're on our way. I will go over the other cursory ingredients, then go pick anything else we might need up in town. Then…" Cas said.
"My blood." Dean finished. "We summon the new King of Hell tomorrow morning."
That night, Dean went to bed alone. Cas insisted on putting the 'batch' together to summon Crowley and then said he needed some time "alone with his thoughts," which meant in guy-language that he didn't want to be anywhere Dean. Although occasionally insensitive, Dean wasn't an idiot and could tell that their minor tiff earlier hadn't been what Cas needed on top of the news about Crowley, Heaven and of course, his spanking new humanity.
"I'm a dick." He said again into the dark, talking to no one in particular.
The next morning, he awoke and Cas was not in bed next to him, which was a first in the two months when they'd felt the need to start sharing one. Dean tried not to feel uneasy and when he went downstairs, he found Cas passed out at the kitchen table, head in his arms, a foul smelling concoction sitting in front of him. It was the juice they needed for Crowley, so of course it smelled like road kill. Dean was actually amazed that Cas could sleep next to something so disgusting smelling. Dean hoped that Cas had just been overwhelmed with exhaustion, and not that eager to spend the night away from him.
Dean shook his head and bent over and tickled Cas's ear. Cas stirred and lifted his head. He groaned when he saw Dean, or maybe it was just the smell of the Crowley mix. Dean hoped it was the latter.
"Hey sleepyhead." He murmured. He leaned over and planted a small kiss on his cheek and then his ear.
"God, that smells awful." Cas growled. "Why are you touching my ears? Stop!" He said, swatting at Dean like he was a pesky fly.
Dean grinned, since Cas seemed to be back to his usual cheery morning self, which meant he was dealing. "How are you doing?" He asked. "Good sleep?"
"No. It was an awful sleep. I slept at the kitchen table, Dean. What kind of an idiotic question is that?" Cas bitched. He was still unable to detect sarcasm sometimes, which was a trait Dean found charming.
Cas stood up and stretched, doing a few of the yoga stretches he'd learned from watching Youtube to get rid of the kinks created by a night of sleeping at a table. Unbelievably, Dean felt something in his pants stir. For some reason, bitchy Cas, their "fight" from the night before, and the sight of the drowsy ex-angel stretching and showing off the lithe human body, which apparently was all his now, made Dean kind of hot. He knew the timing was all wrong, that Cas was pissed and that they were about to summon Crowley and possibly die, but hell, what was another hour?
Dean sauntered over to Cas and pulled him close, placing his arms over his shoulders. "Hey buddy, you still mad at me?" He murmured, kissing him on the throat.
"No, Dean. Dean, what are you doing? We have to summon Crowley. Stop. Crowley. We have to summon him. I am in no mood." He mumbled, unable to finish a sentence. He tried to push Dean away, as to not succumb to his attempt at seduction. It hardly ever worked.
Dean grinned and moved his hands down Cas's back, powdering the side of his face with little kisses. "Cas, we might die. Come on, don't you want to—ya know—one last time in case we die?" He whispered.
"Dean." Cas groaned. "If you still have to refer to it as 'ya know' then you are not going to get anywhere with me. This is the worst possible timing. We have to summon Crowley. We need to…"
Dean planted another kiss on his throat, that same sensitive spot that was his weakness and Cas gave in to his advances. Suddenly, it was a battle of tongues and mouths, and before Dean knew it, Cas had him pinned against the counter where the night before they had stood peeling corn on the cob. Dean slid back onto the counter, astonished and completely turned by Cas's sudden dominance. He pushed his mouth onto Dean's, kissing him as if it were the last time they'd ever get the chance. Cas tugged at his belt buckle, literally ripping it out of the belt loops. He moved his mouth down Dean's neck, scraping his teeth against his skin, drawing what Dean was sure was blood. He gasped in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Suddenly Cas seemed to get one last burst of angel strength, which he used to tear Dean's shirt in half and to shove him back onto the counter hard enough that it hurt. Cas leaned over him, pulling off his pants in one swift motion. He pinned him to the counter with yet more of that that last burst of angelic energy. He gazed directly into Dean, his eyes red hot with lust and what Dean thought was rage.
"Is this what you want? One last fuck before we die?" He hissed. "Is this what you want, Dean?" He nipped at his throat and kissed him hungrily.
"Cas— Oh God, no. Unnnnnghh. Holy fuck." He moaned as Cas's mouth moved southward, doing something that could only be described as "divine."
It took longer than an hour, but when it was over, Dean was covered in bruises and bites from Cas's sudden turn to the dark, yet totally hot, side. As they stalked out to the barn and Dean noticed he was actually sore. Like, he was sure he was limping and there were bruises in places where he wasn't used to having bruises, like his inner thighs.
"Cas?" He started.
"Let's get this demonic asshole. He'll deal. I will make him fucking deal." Cass hissed. He turned his head to Dean. "Get ready to get your brother back."
Dean figured he was ready to summon Crowley.