Castiel tried hard to keep his training in mind as he flew toward Michael. Even with his recent growth, Michael was still noticeably larger and probably stronger. Castiel knew this would be difficult fight. He and Ketch had drilled seemingly endlessly to prepare for it, practicing maneuvers and flight patterns to increase Castiel's abilities in aerial combat. The maneuvers had been created using computerized simulations and were designed for maximum efficiency in a simulated aerial fight between two dragons. But as he closed with his opponent, Castiel realized immediately that all his training was for nothing. It wasn't that the other dragon behaved nothing like the simulation. Rather, the opposite was true. Michael was countering his offensive moves with the very same defensive moves Castiel had learned, and was attacking using the same tactics Castiel had studied with Ketch. Clearly, the other dragon had received the exact same training he had. It made sense. Michael would have originally been trained using the same computerized training routine before he'd been taken. It seemed his new masters had never altered the protocol. Now the result was an odd sort of spiral stalemate. Both dragons were dancing around each other in the air, spitting fire and slashing at each other while trying to maneuver into an optimal position for a direct attack. They were basically flying circles in the air. Castiel hesitated at simply closing with the other dragon. He could sense the reluctance from his bondmate as well. Dean believed that Michael was just as unwilling a participant in this fight as Castiel himself. His behavior now seemed to prove it, as the other dragon made no move to close with Castiel either. But unfortunately, it didn't matter. Castiel's duty was clear. Willing or not, Michael had to be stopped. That meant Castiel couldn't stick to the training he'd done with Ketch. He needed to think more like Dean. It was time to fight dirty.
Steeling himself, Castiel flipped backward in mid-air, catching Michael by surprise and attacking ferociously. Michael took several good hits before he managed to break free, countering with a vicious slash to Castiel's left foreleg. Twisting around, Castiel intentionally exposed his underbelly, falling back and roaring in pain. Michael fell for it, swooping in to attack only to have Castiel flip again and rake his claws along the underside of Michael's wing. Feathers flew. Michael roared. He roared even louder, shock and surprise mixing with pain when Castiel's teeth snapped at the underside of the base of his tail. While dragons kept their gonads sheathed, much like birds, Castiel's bite certainly did not feel good, especially in such a sensitive location. Later, Castiel supposed he'd feel ashamed of himself, but not now. All was fair in love and war, including gonad biting.
Unfortunately, Michael recovered quickly. Now the other dragon was angry. To Castiel's dismay, the larger dragon was barely injured despite all he'd been able to do at this point. As he realized this, Castiel took a hard hit to his right flank, Michael's claws tearing through his scales and into the flesh beneath. It was a bad hit. Blood was dripping from the wound, but there was little Castiel could do about it now. His wings beat hard, carrying him close to Michael again where the two traded a few more blows. Feathers and blood fell like rain. Castiel flamed Michael's back, taking a flaming in return along his already injured right flank. That was incredibly painful but at least it helped slow the bleeding. Still, Castiel was dismayed to realize his own flames had done little more than scorch Michael's scales, while Michael's fire resulted in painful burns. No matter what Castiel did, Michael seemed to brush it off, while every blow Castiel took was taking its toll. He managed to savage Michael's left side only to receive a painful slash to his own right foreleg. That one was deep. He could barely move the leg now, and when Michael scored another claw hit on Castiel's left wing, Castiel nearly fell out of the sky. Castiel was running out of ideas. How could he beat Michael?
Pain erupted unexpectedly on his left flank and Castiel roared, surprised. He looked back and saw an attack helicopter had opened fire on him. Two more were behind it, with another coming in on his left. A couple of massive Chinooks were in the distance. Below, a plume of dust marked the arrival of ground troops. The Army had found them. "Dean!" he called frantically. "You need to get out of there, you're about to be surrounded!"
And then Michael was coming at him again and Castiel couldn't focus on anything else. Castiel fought on, trying again and again to attack the other dragon only to have Michael all but brush off his attacks. Castiel was confused. While he was doing some damage, he was far more injured, despite having taken far fewer hits than the larger dragon. It didn't make sense, unless…
Castiel's wings stuttered, slowing enough to take even more fire from the attack helicopters. Desperate, he tucked his wings in and dropped like a stone, leveling out in the canyons in an attempt to out-maneuver the helicopters. "Dean, run!"
"We're already running, but don't even think that I'm going to leave you behind. We need to lose these bastards and re-group so we can get a good shot on Michael."
"We can't fight Michael. I can't beat him!"
That made Dean pause. But a moment later, Dean caught the terrible thought circling Castiel's mind. "What do you mean, he's an emperor? An emperor of what?" Then fear fed through the bond as Dean finally understood. "Oh fuck me, Michael is an emperor dragon? How the hell are we supposed to fight that?!"
Castiel didn't have an answer, but right now, he didn't have time to think. Michael had followed Castiel's maneuver. The emperor dragon was deceptively fast for his size. He was bearing down on the smaller dragon, furiously flaming, singing Castiel's feathers as Castiel tried desperately to put some distance between them. But Castiel was once again running out of canyon. Dead ahead, steep walls forced him to quickly change his course, moving up. Michael, close behind, simply kept going forward. Roaring in triumph, his jaws clamped onto Castiel's neck.
Castiel screamed. His wings flapped frantically, feeling himself shaken by the larger dragon, his body whipping back and forth before slamming into the ground. The two massive bodies plowed a furrow in the earth, sending sandy dirt spraying about. Castiel clawed and squirmed, kicked and lashed out with his wings, anything to loosen the hold. But Michael's jaws clamped down hard. Blood poured from the wounds. Castiel moaned, head forced down onto the ground. It was over. He'd lost. All he could do now was pray that his death wouldn't drag Dean with it. He could hear his bondmate screaming in his mind, feel Dean's panic even as everything began to darken. "Dean. I love you."
Noise, a rapid series of explosions. Michael screamed, his jaws loosening. There was another explosion, this one much louder and more violent. It jostled Michael, causing him to finally release his grip on Castiel. The darkness began to recede. Castiel looked up to see the helicopters attacking Michael. They were pouring lead into the larger dragon, as well as firing missiles. Michael immediately flamed one of the helicopters. Castiel gasped, getting weakly to his paws, but there was little he could do. The helicopter crashed to the ground with its screaming crew and exploded in a ball of fire.
The remaining helicopters backed up a little but continued to fire. Something boomed in the distance and a missile struck Michael. The heat of the resulting explosion singed Castiel even as Michael's body shielded him from the worst of it. Michael screamed again, thrown over the smaller dragon's body by the force of the explosion, rolling once on the ground before getting back to his paws, hissing. Castiel looked and saw ground artillery coming closer. They were all around the two dragons, racing along the tops of the canyons to get into firing range. A Vulcan opened fire, followed by another from a different angle. Michael was taking hit after hit, knocking him farther away from Castiel. Plumes of dust marked where even more ground forces were coming closer. The Army, it seemed, had found them.
Michael hissed angrily once more, furious blue eyes glaring at Castiel. "I'll find you." He leaped into the air, causing the helicopters to dodge frantically. But the emperor dragon didn't attack them. He shot into the sky instead, rapidly climbing before retreating into the distance. Two attack helicopters gave chase, although Castiel had little hope they'd be able to catch the fleeing emperor.
The final helicopter hovered near Castiel, weapons aiming at the injured dragon. "Stay on the ground, or you will be fired upon," an amplified voice ordered.
Castiel found he had little choice. His injured leg couldn't hold his weight. The bite on his neck was still bleeding, along with the other wounds he'd taken. He was shaking, beaten. He also had no desire to harm the crew of the helicopter, fellow soldiers like he'd been. Moaning, Castiel lowered his head back to the ground. "Dean, I'm sorry. They've caught me."
Lt. Arthur Ketch was jumping out of the Chinook before it completely landed, racing toward his dragon. Castiel, it seemed, had not fared well against Michael. There was no sign of any sort of riding harness, meaning the beast had clearly been fighting alone with no help at all from a rider. The results of that inexcusable level of incompetence were obvious. The dragon was bleeding from multiple places, sides heaving as it tried to catch its breath. "We need medical over here, quickly!" Ketch roared. "And don't give me any rot about only treating humans. My dragon is about to bleed out!"
Racing to Castiel, Ketch quickly stroked the great head, making soothing sounds even as he winced at the sight of the jagged wounds. Michael had come perilously close to tearing Castiel's jugular out. The monster had shaken the smaller dragon like a rag doll. It was a wonder Castiel's neck wasn't broken. "I'm here, love, don't worry," Ketch soothed, frantically gesturing for the medical team to move forward and start treating the wounds. "We're going to get you patched up. Now you be a good dragon and don't fight. We need to secure you for the trip. You're going to need surgery and proper care. Don't worry, my darling. I'll take care of everything."
One blue eye rolled back to look at Ketch, half-lidded in pain and exhaustion. The dragon shifted. It made a moan that sounded somehow questioning.
"Don't worry about Winchester," Ketch said, guessing what the beast wanted. "He'll be picked up momentarily, along with anyone else that's been pouring poison into your mind. We'll get everyone back safely to the base, get you healed, and then get everything sorted, just as it should be. I promise you," he continued, gently stroking the dragon's head. "We'll fly together again. We were always meant to be together and no one will ever take you away from me."
The dragon moaned again. The medical team was busy trying to patch up its many wounds. Fortunately, another was already loading a massive syringe with a sedative. Castiel flinched when it was injected. Then the great eye closed, and the body went limp.
"Do what you can to stop the bleeding and then get this creature loaded up," Ketch ordered, giving his dragon one last pat. "We need to get it wrapped up tight and hitched to the Chinooks so we can fly it back as quickly as possible." His eyes moved again over his dragon's injuries, his fists clenching in anger. "Where is that bastard Winchester?"
This last was directed at a soldier listening to the radio. "They've got him," he reported. "Apparently, he went running straight for our guys with his hands up. Seems he wanted to come back in, but he's uninjured. Can't say the same for the poor bastard they peeled out from between those trailers at the rest stop. He is seriously fucked up."
Ketch grimaced. He'd forgotten all about the other man. "Is he expected to survive?"
The soldier relayed the question, listened for the response, and looked up at Ketch. "Medics say he's not likely. Guy got completely crushed when Michael went full dragon." He paused, listening, and shook his head. "Nope, they just called him. That makes forty-seven casualties for Michael so far, including the poor saps in the chopper it just took down." He listened again, one eyebrow going up. "I just got told Private Winchester is asking for you, Ketch."
"Asking for me?" This should be interesting. Ketch felt far more inclined to shoot the bastard in the head than have a chat, but that would likely kill his dragon. No, he needed Winchester alive, at least until Tapping was able to transfer the bond link to himself. He took a deep breath and got a firm grip on his emotions. It wouldn't do to project anything but calm confidence in front of these men, especially when they were no doubt already whispering about how a miserable excuse for a soldier like Winchester had stolen his dragon in the first place. "I'll go have a chat once my mount is loaded up," he announced. "I need to make sure it's properly secured."
Ketch returned to his dragon. The men were hard at work securing the beast. The massive metal muzzle was already in place. The device had openings for the dragon's nostrils, but it would not be able to open its mouth. Between that and the shields placed just before the nostril openings, the dragon's flames were under control. More chains were being attached to the creature's limbs, with a chain netting wrapping over the wings to pin them firmly to the dragon's sides. Ketch supervised the latter very carefully. It would not do to have his mount's feathers damaged, especially since they already had some damage from its fight with Michael. Those wounds made Ketch wince. They would certainly impair his ability to fly the dragon, maybe even ground it for a time. How frustrating. "Oi, easy there!" he snapped irritably. He stomped over to the other side of the dragon and carefully freed a few of the long flight feathers that had gotten tangled in the netting. "Be careful, dammit! If it loses even a single feather from bad handling, I'll have your hides!"
That earned him some sour looks, but Ketch didn't care. He lovingly stroked the long feathers, tucking them gently beneath the net. The loss of his dragon had caused him some sleepless nights, searching through all the available information for any sign of Castiel or that bastard Winchester. The private had surprised everyone by taking his father's car. It was something that had almost been overlooked. If Ketch hadn't insisted on looking into every possible lead, the fact that the Impala was on the move might not even have been noticed. That had been a trap for Milligan, not Winchester. Still, tracing the car had given them the best leads yet, not just on Castiel and Raphael, but on the long-lost Gabriel as well.
The thought of Gabriel made him pause. Returning to the soldier with the radio, Ketch took it and called Command. "Lt. Ketch speaking. What's the word on Gabriel?"
"Well, that's a problem," Command reported. "Based on the initial descriptions, the decedent from the rest stop matches the description of Second Lieutenant Sebastian Balthazar, an Army intelligence officer that went missing and was believed to be killed in action about eighteen months ago. How he ended up back Stateside when he went missing in Afghanistan is a whole other matter. Of more pressing importance, Balthazar was suspected to be involved with Winchester's brother, Samuel Winchester. The missing posters we distributed around Stanford actually had Balthazar's likeness on them because he'd been seen so much with the younger Winchester. At any rate, the bastard definitely had ties to Gabriel. In fact, there's speculation he actually ended up bonding with it."
Ketch stiffened. He'd never heard of this Balthazar. If this was the man who'd ended up bonding with Gabriel…? "Check Balthazar's body," he ordered. "Have whoever is with him look for a handprint somewhere on his torso or upper arms."
A moment later, Command was back. "That is affirmative. The decedent has the mark you described on his chest."
"Well, that's unexpected, and unfortunate," Ketch groaned. "If Gabriel's guiding partner is dead, then the dragon is probably dead as well. Damnation! We were so close to getting it back, too." He sighed. "Well, at least we'll soon have Raphael back in custody. I guess it will have to do. What about the younger Winchester?"
"No sign of him," Command reported. "I know Balthazar was seen with him and the private at that rest stop, but it seems the boy got away. We're still searching. If he's alive and anywhere in the area, we'll find him."
"Doesn't matter," Ketch declared. "If we can't find the little bastard, to Hell with him."
"That's not your decision to make," Command informed him curtly. "We want the brother in custody. He knows entirely too much about this entire program and may have answers for us as to what happened with Gabriel. Even if it's dead, we want to know what happened and to reclaim its body before some asshole plasters its picture all over social media. You get your prisoner and your dragon headed back to base with Balthazar's body and have the men out there widen the search for Sam Winchester. Find the bastard! See if they can find any sign of Gabriel while they're at it. If Balthazar is there, the dragon has to be somewhere close."
Ketch made a face. "Understood." Giving the radio back, he relayed the orders he'd been given. He gave his unconscious mount another fond pat. Then he jogged over to a waiting vehicle and drove off, heading to another canyon where a second team waited.
Winchester was seated, slumped, in the back of one of the troop transports surrounded by armed guards when Ketch's vehicle arrived. The private was cuffed at the wrist and ankle with chains on his waist attached to the cuffs, but he was hardly making a fuss. He simply sat there, slumped and looking depressed. "Fancy seeing you again," Ketch called, seeing Winchester's head snap up in response. "I heard you surrendered without a fight? First intelligent thing you've done in the entire time I've known you."
"I couldn't let you take Cass all by himself. He needs me." The private's eyes were hollow, looking out at Ketch from a face still bearing what appeared to be fading bruises. "We need to talk about those 'vitamins' you gave him. They were poison. You nearly killed him, Ketch."
Ketch stared. After Winchester had stolen his dragon, Ketch had assumed Castiel hadn't had access to Tapping's hormonal treatment. To hear that the dragon not only had brought the medication with it when it ran but had also continued to take it was heartening. It showed Castiel trusted Ketch and was willing to obey his orders. The rest of what the private had said was troubling. "What do you mean, poison? Explain yourself."
"Cass was taking those stupid pills every day," Winchester spat. This, at least, had put a bit of fire back in the private's eyes. "Every day, he was getting sicker and sicker. I couldn't figure out why until I realized he'd been taking that shit. As soon as he stopped he got better. You can't let that bitch Tapping give him any more of her poison, Ketch. She'll kill Cass for sure!"
That rattled Ketch more than a little. He was careful not to let any of it show in his face or voice. "Thank you for your advice," Ketch said. To the guards, he said, "Get the prisoner back to base and into interrogation." He turned to leave, but stopped, turning back to the disheartened prisoner. "Oh, by the way," Ketch called, "don't expect any assistance from your friend, Sebastian Balthazar. I'm afraid he's dead." Seeing the prisoner's eyes widen, Ketch nodded. "So sorry to be the one to break the news. It seems he was too close to Michael when the dragon transformed and was crushed. Perhaps you'll be able to pay your respects after his autopsy? I can't make any guarantees, though. Couldn't say what might be left of the bastard."
"You son of a bitch," Winchester growled.
Ketch smirked at him. "You'll also be glad to know that your brother will soon be joining you. After all, I've quite a force here and there's really not many places for him to hide. We'll have him soon enough. But that should do for your allies. You see, another team is about to capture Raphael and the man it bonded with, so our storm dragon will soon be back in our hands. Those terrorists controlling Michael did for your friends at the Roadhouse, although I'm still not quite sure how they managed to find you before we did. With Balthazar dead, that means his dragon, Gabriel, is unfortunately dead as well. We've already got choppers out searching for its body." He nodded, watching Winchester's shoulders slump a fraction more as he spoke. "I'm afraid you're quite on your own now," he declared. "There is no one coming to help you. As to you, you'll be kept around for as long as I need you, then shipped off to somewhere I never have to see or think of you again." He met Dean's eyes and smiled. "Castiel is mine. It was always meant to be mine, and it always will be. If Tapping's formula can't give me my dragon, then I will simply find another way to take it, even if that means keeping you in a medically induced coma. Keep that in mind. You had your shot against Michael, and your incompetence almost got my dragon killed. You can't even ride it! But with me riding Castiel, I will be successful."
Winchester's face flushed with anger. To Ketch's surprise, he scoffed. "You don't even know what it is you're up against, do you? Cass can't fight Michael! No one can. My only hope now is that between us, we can make you understand that." He twisted a bit, displaying his cuffed hands. "I don't really have anything else to do right now anyway."
Ketch refused to let his face register his confusion. Whatever Winchester was on about, it couldn't be important. Ketch decided he didn't care. He had his dragon back. That was all that mattered. Smiling, he slapped twice against the side of the transport. "Get this bastard back to the base." Then he returned to his vehicle, ready to go back and accompany his mount back to the base. He knew the beast would have to heal, but hopefully, that wouldn't take long. The creatures had all proven to be fast healers. Ketch couldn't wait to start training it again.
