Dean was in real danger of soiling his regulation underwear. He was perched in a tiny saddle strapped to Castiel's massive neck and shoulders, nestled in between a couple of spines at the very base of the neck. He'd had to get there by climbing a rope ladder that was part of the dragon's harness. The ground was entirely too far below now that the dragon, who seemed to be quite pleased that Dean was riding him, was standing and walking, strolling leisurely after the jeep in front of them. From Dean's viewpoint it looked like one of those toy electric jeeps that little kids can ride around in. He desperately wished he was there. Cass's gait was steady, but his body swayed a bit from side to side as he moved, making Dean feel a little seasick. Perfect. It was a race to see which end of his digestive system emptied involuntarily first.

He was wearing an outfit that was way too similar to a pilot's uniform for his comfort. It had side panels that could be laced up tight, providing constriction to Dean's body to compensate for high-G maneuvers. Dean had zero intention of doing anything that could possibly result in high-G forces and hadn't bothered tightening them. The small parachute on his back wasn't reassuring, either. Dean had no idea how to use it other than to pull the cord and pray to God he didn't land in a tree or hit a power line. It didn't matter. He wouldn't be flying, so the parachute was just a formality. Only two parts of his new outfit were going to be useful. The first was the safety harness, which, combined with his own death grip, would keep him from falling out of the saddle. The second was the helmet. Along with a breathing tube attached to an air supply that he wouldn't need there was a two-way radio and microphone in the helmet. A speaker on the same frequency had been attached to Cass's head from one of his horns, allowing the dragon to listen in on the radio communications. Dean had no doubt that the general would be listening in as well. He sternly reminded himself not to scream like a girl.

"We won't be doing any flying today," Ketch's voice reassured Dean through the headphones in his helmet. "We'll just be letting Castiel stretch his legs and learn how to respond to your commands. Have you been in the simulator yet?"

Dean frowned. "There's a simulator?"

"Ok, I'd say that answers my question," Ketch sighed. "Well, I suppose there hasn't really been any time, and now it's more important to test your compatibility and your ability to control Castiel. We'll get to that. Have you done any riding?"

"You mean like horses? Yeah, a time or two, but those were just trail rides."

"That's alright, at least we have a starting point. You're going to have to teach Castiel how to respond to your commands with the controls instead of just talking to him. Let's go over the controls now, and see how much you remember."

Dean licked his lips, looking down at the controls. He thought they were ridiculous when he first saw them. That opinion hadn't changed. The controls were mounted on a large set of fixed handles attached to the saddle in front of Dean. They had hand grips, which he was already putting to good use, holding on for dear life to avoid falling out of the saddle. At the top of the grips were a pair of joysticks he could manipulate with his thumbs. The right side also had a trigger he could use with his index finger. A set of pedals were placed just before his toes, one on the right and the other on the left. "Joystick on the right is for direction," he recited. "I use that to tell Cass to go left, right, forward or back. The left is for flight, up, down, bank left or bank right." Those were controls Dean would never use. "Trigger is to signal him to use his fire. At my feet, pedal on the right is the accelerator, and on the left is the brake."

"Very good," Ketch praised. "Any questions regarding the controls?"

"Yeah, how is he going to know what I'm doing?" Dean asked. "I know there's vibration stimulators in the harness, but he's huge and covered with scales. Is he going to be able to feel anything?"

"That's part of the training. Castiel needs to learn to pay attention to those," Ketch explained. "Unlike a horse, you can't turn his head with the reins to get him to go where you want. He'll have to learn what it means when different points on his body are stimulated and respond accordingly."

"Right." He patted Cass's neck in front of the saddle. "You hear that, buddy?"

"I can hear him. I'll pay attention."

The jeep picked up speed, and the dragon stepped faster to keep up. Looking ahead, Dean could see that the jeep was heading for a large open area surrounded by numerous observers. Cameras were everywhere, ready to record the training for either science or personal interest. Everyone was looking toward Dean and Cass expectantly.

"Keep going into the middle of that open area and stop there," Ketch instructed as the jeep veered off to the right.

"Understood. Ok, you heard him, Cass, let's go."

Cass picked up speed again, trotting along with a gait that bounced Dean a bit in the saddle. He clung to the controls, only too mindful once more of just how far down the ground was. This was going to suck. He'd have to work hard to get Cass to be willing to carry Ketch when it came time for flying lessons.

Ketch's jeep pulled into an open spot in the circle. "Righto, let's get started. First, activate each controller as I call it out. Castiel, if you can hear me, please give a nod? Excellent. Alright, this means 'Go left.'"

Dean activated each control as it was called out. Castiel seemed to be focusing intently. After a few repetitions, he was able to move his head in the direction he'd been indicated to go. "They feel weird, but I can feel them," he informed Dean. "They don't hurt."

"Glad to hear that."

"I like bees," Castiel informed Dean happily. "I had an uncle who was a beekeeper. I enjoyed helping him with them. I always thought I might have a hive of my own someday."

"Ok, that was random, but nice to know," Dean replied, shaking his head. "Let's just try focusing less on the bees and more on what we're doing, alright, buddy?"

"Alright, Dean."

"He seems to have gotten the hang of it," Ketch reported. "Now let's try having Castiel move in response to the controls."

Dean was instructed to guide Castiel through moving randomly at various speeds and in various directions. That was easy enough. Cass moved when Dean directed him in one direction or another and sped up or slowed on command. After a few mistakes, the dragon seemed to get the hang of it. Dean soon had Cass happily doing figure eights, which, for some reason, got the dragon talking about bees again. Dean chuckled.

"What's the joke, Private?" Ketch called, seeming a bit irritated. "Remember, no one but you can hear the dragon's telepathy, so do please share with the rest of the class?"

"It's nothing, really," Dean reported. "Cass just really likes bees."

"Bees." Ketch's voice was flat. "Castiel, do please pay attention? This part is especially important. Do you both see the targets set up at the end of the field? Winchester, you're going to direct Castiel to run past each target and trigger him to fire on them."

This was exciting. Even Cass seemed to forget about the damned bees for a moment. He hunkered down a little, tail swishing like a cat about to pounce. Dean patted the neck under him. "Ready to show off a little?"

"Ready!"

Dean stomped on the "go" button and the dragon charged forward with a roar. Dean, only able to remain in the saddle by virtue of his safety harness, could do little besides hang on as Castiel pounced on the first target, grabbed it in his front claws and unleashed fiery hell on it.

"No, no no!" Ketch scolded. "Castiel, I can see on my readouts here that Winchester did not give you any command besides the initial forward move. You did all of that on your own accord. While taking initiative will be important later, right now you are supposed to be focusing on taking direction from your rider."

Castiel hung his head, the great wings drooping. "I'm sorry, Dean. I did wrong."

"You did not do wrong," Dean insisted.

"You most certainly did do wrong!" Ketch snapped irritably. "Winchester, your one job here is to guide and direct Castiel's training. That will require the occasional correction. We cannot afford to have this dragon out of control, is that in any way unclear?"

"No, Sir," Dean sighed. "Sorry, Cass, you gotta do better, buddy."

The dragon's head nearly hit the ground. Following Dean's direction, Cass slowly walked back to the starting point. Even his walk seemed depressed. Dean felt like a jerk even as he sternly reminded himself that this was for Castiel's own good. If the military thought the dragon was out of control, Dean had no doubt they'd kill him, no matter how sweet and almost childlike he seemed. "Ok, this time we got it," Dean encouraged. "Focus. You ready?"

"Ready."

Dean urged Castiel forward again. This time, the dragon's charge was perfectly guided. Dean directed Cass to run past the next target and set fire to it in passing. Cass did the maneuver perfectly. The dragon seemed very happy with Dean's whoops of excitement, trotting back to the starting point. "You did great!" Dean yelled, enthusiastically leaning forward again to slap at the dragon's neck. "Everyone's really happy now."

"Do you think the bees are happy?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Cass, what is it with you and bees all of the sudden?"

"I just wondered if they're happy," the dragon explained. "Since they're really out of their nest now that we've trampled so close to it so many times, I think they're going to get up to you this time."

"Um, what?" Alarmed, Dean looked down. Sure enough, a massive cloud of hornets was swarming up the dragon's side. Clearly hampered by the massive scales, the pissed-off insects were heading straight toward a target they could do something about. "Oh, shit, move, Cass, quick!"

"But you didn't press on the…?"

The swarm of hornets had reached Dean. He screamed, slapping wildly at the stinging insects and quickly stomped on the go button. "Move, Cass, move!"

Castiel bounded forward, but it was too late. The insects were crawling all over Dean. Trapped in the saddle, he could do little besides scream and flail wildly. The harness. He had to get out of the harness. Unfortunately, in his panic, he couldn't quite remember where the release was for the harness. Reaching over with his right to grip at the lefthand side of the controller, Dean twisted frantically around. Unfortunately, the cuff of his glove caught the joystick.

Castiel roared in delight. Dean was directing him to go up! Finally! Now they could really show off. The dragon leaped into the air, wings pumping as he continued to receive the signal to go up. Ignoring both the commands from the ground and the screams of his rider, Castiel kept going. He was proud of himself for obeying Dean's commands so completely. Now Dean was sending out a complicated series of signals to bank left and right and then go into a nosedive. Castiel obeyed. It felt good to stretch his wings, and Dean clearly wanted to put him through his paces. Challenge accepted.

Dean had just started to undo his harness when Cass suddenly rocketed up into the sky. The good news was that the abrupt move had shaken off the hornets, leaving him with only about a dozen or so stings that made it through his outfit. The bad news was that now he had to hold on tight to the rear buckle of his harness to keep it from coming undone. That meant he couldn't do anything else with his left hand. Meanwhile, his right was caught on the flight joystick. His attempts to free it resulted in one wild maneuver after another, all done high in the air until he'd thought to push his arm against the joystick. Now Cass was in a sharp nosedive, but at least Dean got his right arm free. Frantic, he pulled back on the joystick and Cass immediately did a neat, tight turn in the air, heading back up to level out when Dean stopped pushing on the joystick. Dean was in a panic. He was still holding onto the harness and twisted around halfway in his saddle, meaning he couldn't reach the pedals. He tried awkwardly maneuvering the joystick with his right hand while sitting practically sidesaddle, trying to steer the dragon back to the practice field. Meanwhile, profanity was erupting in his headphones as Ketch demanded to know what he was doing and that they return at once. Dean would like nothing more. "Cass, stop!" he pleaded. "We gotta go back, can't you hear Lt. Ketch?"

"Of course, Dean," Cass agreed happily. Apparently, the dragon was having the time of his life. "Just guide me back."

Guide him back? That would require looking down. Dean had been staring hard at the dragon's left wing and shoulder specifically in order to avoid looking down. He caught a glimpse of the ground way too far below and his stomach lurched. "Listen, I can't guide you right now, ok? I need you to just fly back and land."

"No, Dean," Cass corrected. "I was bad when I went on my own without you guiding me. Taking initiative will be important later, but right now I are supposed to be focusing on taking direction from my rider. I can do better!"

"Son of a bitch," Dean moaned. "Listen, the test is over, you did great, and now you can stop just taking orders from me and fly back."

"But I'm supposed to do better?"

"You did better!" Dean was getting desperate. "Listen, my safety harness isn't attached. I'm holding on as tight as I can to keep from falling off, but I can't keep doing this much longer. You have to land or I'm going to fall off!"

That got the dragon's attention. The wingbeats faltered, resulting in a terrifying drop for half a second before Cass smoothed out again. "You're going to fall? Don't worry, I will catch you."

"No, no, you are not going to catch me." Dean had no desire to experience any part of that idea. "You just need to go back."

"Yes, damnation, come back!" Ketch was roaring over the comm. "Castiel, your rider wants you to come back. This is the part where you need to take initiative, because your rider is not able to properly command you. Return to the practice field, that is a direct order!"

"You heard the man," Dean ordered. "Go back!"

Castiel was confused. He felt like he'd somehow done wrong again, but he wasn't sure how. Still, the thought that Dean might fall was a troubling one. While Castiel had no doubt he could easily catch his frail rider, something about Dean's voice told him that it would be a bad idea. Turning, he started back to the training field.

When Dean realized the familiar sight of the training field was coming closer, he breathed a prayer of thanks to God and every saint he'd ever heard of. His hand was numb from holding so tightly to the harness. Then his bee stings stung and he remembered. "Ok, before we land we need to target that damned hornet's nest. Those are not honeybees, Cass, they're bad bees, hornets. If we land on them they'll just fly up and attack me again. They need to burn!"

For the first time, Castiel understood what had happened. The hornets had attacked Dean. They'd hurt his Dean, dared to attack the one person he valued above all else? How dare they? Now, he would show the entire world what happened when anyone or anything defied a dragon. He gave a ferocious roar and hovered over the training field, waiting for his cue. When Dean managed to grip the trigger and pull it, the dragon inhaled deeply and breathed fire all over the nest.

All around the perimeter, people screamed, engines revved, and tires screeched as everyone fled. Flames billowed up, reaching nearly ten feet into the air and scorching everything on the field. When the ground was a smoking black mass, Castiel proudly set down, wings tucked back to help balance his rider and shield him from the residual heat. "Dean Winchester has been saved," he announced.

"That's right buddy," Dean panted. "Dean Winchester has been saved." He looked around. He hadn't expected Cass's flame to be even half as powerful as it was. The sight of all that fire flashing back up at him had been more than a little alarming. It didn't seem like anyone had been badly hurt, but that was some sort of miracle. Dean could feel the heat from the ground. All of the recording equipment near the hornets' nest was blackened, cracked, and smoking. An officer's vehicle that had been parked nearby had its windows shattered. The closest tire exploded with a bang that made Dean wince. Smoke was coming from under the hood. People were cursing or crying, patting out smoking garments or hair. Swallowing hard, Dean sheepishly directed Castiel out of the blackened ground and onto safer territory. He winced when several people bolted at the sight of the dragon coming near. Dean tapped on his helmet. "Um, can anyone hear me?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Ketch growled.

"Good," Dean said weakly. "That's good." He groaned. "Holy mother of fuck, could someone please get me down from here?"