Vi veri veniversum vivus vici 13/?
AN: Finally I have a beta *yay* and because poor citizencandy had to read through this monster-fic and she likes her Dean with Castiel-topping be warned of slash ahead :)
Father Ignatius helped Dean carry the unconscious angel into the small room the priest lived in. The bed wasn't particularly big but it thankfully wasn't Sam's gigantic frame they had to cope with. As soon as Castiel was lying on his back, Dean started to open the borrowed button-down the Angel was wearing to search for injuries. Before the hunter opened the shirt completely to reveal his friend's torso he remembered the priest standing next to him. Perhaps it was best if he didn't spot the carvings in Castiel's skin...
"Uhm, Father... Do you have a first aid kit? And I'll need a needle to stitch him up, have any dental silk or something like that?"
"Of course," Father Ignatius muttered before he hurried off to the small adjoining bathroom. He would be back soon so Dean had to hurry.
The stab wound was deep, still leaking more blood than he was comfortable with, but the hunter was relieved as he realized there were no organs damaged. The injury would be a bitch to heal, but as soon as Dean would be finished applying stitches, Castiel would no longer be in immediate danger. Hopefully.
The hunter let his hands run over ribs, testing for fractures or major bruises while he studied the angry red marks where the Angel had been beaten up by the demons. He was sure they must have been kicking him when Castiel had been already on the floor. Anger was rising inside of Dean at that thought. Although he had already killed them, he suddenly wished they were alive once more so he could... A soft moan brought the hunter's thoughts back. Castiel was regaining consciousness again.
"Cas! Come on! Open your eyes! Cas, you're hurt, can you heal yourself?"
The answering groan was not very elaborate, still the hunter knew what is friend wanted to say. No, the Angel was currently not able to mend any of his injuries. He sighed heavily
~*~.
"What happened in there?" Dean asked softly pointing back to the Navis with his head.
But the Angel did not answer his question. He shuddered lightly, eyes still clenched shut, body trembling with pain ever so often.
It was the priest who answered while returning to them, first aid and sewing kit in his arms. "Your friend told me to cover my eyes. Next thing I knew, he was lying on the floor retching."
Retching. Right. He must have been in considerable amount of pain, probably still was. "Do you have anything against the pain? Paracetamol? Or you wouldn't happen to have some kind of Morphine?"
"Well, I have some analgesics for my migraine... I think I could crush a few of the pills and dissolve in water..." Again the priest hurried towards the little bathroom.
The hunter tenderly put his palm on Castiel's forehead. At least no fever. He had no clue what was wrong with his friend but obviously the strange carvings in his skin were part of it. He had better get started sewing him up soon. Without the priest looking too closely. Dean sighed. He had no idea how to get rid of Father Ignatius without being rude. He had probably already witnessed too much...
With a shrug, the hunter turned towards the returning priest. As soon as Castiel had had the pain meds he could finally start to work.
~*~
"He's a real angel?" the priest asked in a low voice. There was awe mixed with disbelief - Dean didn't blame him. He hadn't guessed there were things like angels in the first place although he had known about demons roaming the earth for years.
The hunter just nodded as an answer, busily stitching up his quivering friend. He didn't like being grilled by Father Ignatius, but the alternative was to face the emotional chaos raging inside him. So the interrogation was the lesser evil.
"...and your friend."
Again Dean affirmed.
"You called him Cas..."
"Castiel."
The priest furrowed his brow and searched his memories before he nodded slowly. "A seraph. Angel of one of the days of the week... Isn't he supposed to be one of God's soldiers? A warrior?"
The hunter looked up at the priest's face while he nodded, not entirely sure what would be the point the other man was trying to make. It took him a few moments before realization dawned.
"You think he isn't particularly good in hand to hand combat for a soldier? And he looks kinda small and mousy for a mighty warrior of the Lord?"
Father Ignatius shrugged, obviously waiting for him to continue. Again the hunter pierced the needle though his friend's flesh, making Castiel flinch heavily for the first time since he had started applying stitches, causing a fresh stream of sticky blood to pour over his fingers. Dean took a deep breath, trying to calm his ragged nerves, swallow down the rising nausea and concentrated on their conversation.
"Well, he kinda sucks at melee but he... um... he's really good with his... his... angel... stick."
The pater raised his eyebrows. "His... angel stick?"
Dean opened his mouth to answer when his brain finally caught up with his mouth. "No, no... it's some kind of weapon. A... a knife."
"...daea..."
Both priest and hunter looked at the Angel with surprise. He was fighting to focus his bleary eyes, blinking at Dean, but he was conscious again.
"Cas?"
The Angel took a shaky breath and tried again. This time the mumbled word was more intelligible: "Dagg'r."
"Dagger? What dagger? Oh... you mean, your weapon is some kind of dagger!" A grin spread across the hunter's face. "Buddy, one moment I thought you'd lost it... How about you answer the Father's questions while I finish stitching you up? Poor Jimmy 's probably missing his blood already." Dean knew he was rambling but the waves of relief rushing through his system had his mouth disconnected from his brain again.
"I shall... answer your questions, Pater Ignatius," Castiel agreed weakly while his eyes focused slowly on the slim frame of the priest.
The other man didn't need to be told twice. Seemingly there were a lot of questions on the Father's mind. "Why are angels suddenly walking among us? Is it the Day of Judgment? To lay waste to one third of earth?"
Castiel licked his dry lips obviously not sure how to reply as Dean answered Father Ignatius question with a forceful "No!" After a moment the hunter added, "He's actually the only one of them who tried his best to prevent the Apocalypse!" How could the priest even assume Castiel would do such a thing? With hindsight the Angel nearly had. But this wasn't something Dean was gonna let him know.
"Tried?" Father Ignatius looked at him like he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know the answer.
Yeah, crap. Now there was no going back, he had to spill the beans. "Well... we kinda failed. Lucifer walks free, Armageddon is here, the end is nigh, yada yada yada."
"Ooh..."
There was a long pause afterwards.
~*~
As soon as the priest had left the Navis with Dean and the unconscious Angel Bobby turned to the smirking demon again. He scrutinized the dark haired man, took in his self-assured stance, the dark eyes sparkling with intelligence, hands crossed behind his back, pristine suit, gleaming black shoes.
The old hunter knew about the box suddenly turning up in the boys' motel room one day after Sam accidentally freed Lucifer. The box with both the Colt and a letter with the whereabouts of the Devil. They had called afterwards, told him how Dean had shot Lucifer just for him to vanish and leave a dying body behind. A soon to be corpse with about twenty demons assaulting them the instant Lucifer's blinding light was gone.
Up until now, neither Bobby nor the Winchester boys had been able to come up with a reasonable explanation on how they had managed to escape. With the Colt.
"So," the old hunter started eying the demon closely. "Where did you get the Colt?"
"I bought it. From a woman - I think you know her. She called herself Bela." The demon eyed him cockily.
"And why did you give it to the boys? You are a demon! Why does a demon want the Devil to die?!"
Crowley answered with a smile: "You see, Lucifer might have created us but to him we are just pawns. Grunts. Dispensable. He doesn't care if one or one thousand of us die. He hates us nearly as much as he hates you. What do you think happens after he has wiped out humankind? Hm...? Right, he'll turn on us next, put an end to each and every demon in existence. And while you might think this is a good thing, don't forget you will all already be dead at that point. So isn't it prudent to join forces? We can settle our own dispute afterwards because we will still be alive. If we don't work together there won't be anybody left. Neither on your, nor on my side. "
Although Bobby had to admit the demon's speech made sense, he was not inclined to take his words for granted and trust him. There still was another issue that the old hunter needed to address.
"Did you know that the Colt won't harm Lucifer?"
Crowley shook his head with a sigh. "No. I might have had a hunch, but the Colt being the most potent weapon ever built by human hands, I still hoped that it would at least be able to hurt Lucifer. I was wrong. I apologize."
Bobby nodded slowly, letting the demon's words sink. Cowley was not an average hell spawn, he had been Lilith's right hand, her lieutenant, head of the crossroads demons after her death. Too valuable an ally to turn down his offer beforehand.
"Interrogation finished? Because this church still isn't warded properly and there are quite a few hunting parties out there that would love to chase down Angel boy or Laurel and Hardy."
Bobby huffed his agreement. "Right. What are you waiting for, the bag of salt is over there!"
~*~
"So..." Father Ignatius continued their conversation as Dean had finished applying stitches and was now trying to improvise some kind of dressing for the stab wound. The first aid kit wasn't dimensioned for an injury of that scale. "So, you are here to fight against Lucifer. And there are other angels around, too?"
Castiel nodded.
"Because I thought we might need a little help... here..."
"They won't help us." Castiel's breath hitched a little as the hunter carefully taped the first dressing across injured flesh so the better part of the wound was covered.
Dean sighed when he saw the frown on Father Ignatius' face. How were they to explain to a priest that practically all angels were dicks? "Let's just say they are more interested in fighting against Lucifer's army than making sure no humans are hurt in the process," the hunter finally answered the unspoken question.
"Collateral damage?" Father Ignatius sounded surprisingly composed.
"A hell of a lot of collateral damage, if we can't stop Lucifer in time."
~*~
Dean could tell the exact time the pain meds started to work. Castiel's rigid stance eased, the tight muscles in his jaw relaxed and the Angel exhaled a shaky breath full of relief before his eyes began dropping again.
"Cas, can you heal yourself... a bit?" Perhaps now with the pain gone he would be able to gather enough strength?
"...weak... mornin'...," the Angel muttered before his breath evened out and Dean knew his friend was finally asleep.
~*~
Sam watched with folded arms as Crowley drew salt lines in front of both side entrances. He had heard every word Bobby and the demon had spoken and there were still a lot of things on his mind that needed to be sorted out. Unfortunately the old hunter had other plans.
"Sam, whatever you are brooding over, stop it and help Crowley. And keep an eye on him, I still don't think we should trust him."
~*~
It was already getting dark outside when Crowley drew the last line in chalk. Now the church was warded against every demon in creation - except himself. He straightened his figure, stretched tired muscles and slowly looked at the entire Navis. The older Winchester and the renegade Angel were still inside the priest's chamber. While the younger brother had kept a watchful eye on the demon the entire time he had worked on the wards, Bobby and the priest had started talking quite some time ago. They were both sitting next to the altar - the farther away from Crowley they could get while still staying inside the small church. Although his senses were way better than those of a mere human, he had not been able to perceive more than a few scraps of conversation.
Crowley watched as Sam joined the two older men while the demon wiped his hands clean on his handkerchief. He still wasn't sure if it had been the right decision to help the Winchesters. Of course the chances of he himself succeeding in killing the Devil were zero, but until now he had seen nothing than a bunch of morons fooling around and nearly getting themselves killed. The Winchesters - and the old hunter - had a reputation amongst demons, a reputation of being deadly, nearly invincible and very dangerous, albeit a bit daft too... Crowley strongly hoped they would show their dangerous side pretty soon. Slowly he started walking towards the three men.
"...don't have many supplies," he heard the tall hunter say with a worried frown on his face.
The priest shrugged, answering, "I normally don't eat here. Although I do have a kitchenette. It's just badly stocked."
"We should not leave the church. We are safe inside, but out there are still angels and demons wanting to collect the bounty. And none of us would be able to fight them." Bobby pointed out.
Crowley sighed. Now he had to play delivery service, too. He knew why he disliked humans. The demon pulled a notepad and a ball point pen out of his pocket, clothed his face in a friendly smile and said cheerfully, "Please place your orders."
~*~
As night fell upon the small church the cold started to creep through each and every crack, seeping out of the heavy stone walls, engulfing the small group of refugees. Father Ignatius found two old quilts in one of his drawers, enough for Sam and Bobby not to freeze into hunter-icicles. Although Crowley too felt the numbing cold inside his bones, he would be able to get through the night without a blanket. That just left the priest himself and Dean. The demon hoped neither of them was gormless enough to let the cold make them hypothermic.
~*~
Dean watched as father Ignatius carried a few woolen quilts out into the huge Navis of the old Church. Although it was nearly summer, the stone building seemed to radiate coldness. He had already put his hands into his pockets, still the older brother shivered lightly. Sitting on his butt the entire time didn't exactly help getting warm either, but he just did not want to leave Castiel alone. Not even for a few minutes. As the priest returned, Dean apologized softly not to wake his friend, "Father, I'm sorry we're occupying your room..."
"Don't worry, son," the older man answered with a small smile. "Your friend needs my bed more than I do." His expression - while still soft - became serious again. "Besides I am not going to sleep this night. The things that happened today inside the church... It nearly desecrated this place so I have a lot of work to do."
Only moments after the priest had left the chamber again, Dean heard a soft groan followed by a whisper of his name.
"Hey, Cas. How are you?" Dean scooted a bit closer to understand the Angel's soft voice.
"I'm... cold?" The Angel frowned slightly obviously not used to this feeling and not sure if he got the signs his vessel was sending him right. He was indeed shivering slightly.
"Sorry, no radiator in here. I'll ask the priest if he's got another blanket for you, 'kay?"
He was already halfway through the door as Castiel's whisper made him stop.
"Dean...?"
"Yeah?"
"Stay, please."
With a sigh he settled on the small wooden chair again. It really was getting cold in here. He half expected to see his breath as white puffs every time he exhaled. Dean was wondering whether he should stand up and start walking around in the small room to warm up again as he noticed the tiny sound coming from the bed. Soft, rhythmic clattering - Castiel's teeth. Dean had to do something. He considered leaving despite his friend's protest to search for Father Ignatius but the priest probably didn't have another blanket to spare anyway. And he too was freezing... So the only solution was...
Dean eyed the small bed for at least five minutes trying to gather his courage.
"Oh, fuck it," he muttered, stood up and crouched down next to the Angel's head.
"Cas... I know you are freezing... We could... you know... share body heat. That is, if you don't mind me lying down next to you."
Of course the Angel didn't mind. The guy who didn't get the concept of personal space surely wasn't afraid of another person near. So Dean quickly slipped under the covers without exposing the shivering Angel to too much cold air. The bed wasn't exactly big, but somehow they would cope. At least now they both no longer were freezing their asses off.
~*~
It was still early in the morning as Sam decided to look after his brother and Castiel. Perhaps he wanted him to watch over the Angel so the older hunter too could catch a few hours of sleep. He carefully opened the door, not wanting to wake Castiel in case he was still asleep. What the young hunter saw was nothing he had been expecting. Dean and the Angel were not only sharing a bed, they were... well... cuddling. Castiel's head was resting on Dean's shoulder, his arm sprawled over the hunter's stomach, hand resting above his heart. Dean's head was turned towards the Angel, nose buried deep inside dark and unruly hair. Both were still fast asleep. Sam blinked in bewilderment before a tiny smile spread across his lips. Deciding to let them sleep for another hour, he softly closed the door again.