Cascade - Chapter Three
Chapter 3
Dean’s eyes flickered open as reality encroached on his dreams. His senses prickled at feeling a presence by his bed. There was a knife beneath his pillow, Dean reached for it and turned to find Castiel sitting in the chair next to him.
“Jesus Cas, I could have stabbed you”. Dean breathed hard and relaxed, sinking back into the mattress. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep”
Dean sat up then, and took in the hunched form of Castiel, near enough crumpled in his seat. He certainly looked as if he needed sleep. “Nightmares huh?”
“That’s… part of it”. He squinted and hesitated, as if he would have trouble explaining the whole of it.
“Would it help if I sat with you for a while? I won’t watch you the whole night; I’ve told you enough times how creepy that is”.
Castiel paused as if considering it. “Maybe… but it’s not night any more”.
“Seriously?” Dean reached for his watch. It read seven am. “I feel like I’ve only had two hours… Ok, time to get up. Let me shower and I’ll get us some breakfast”.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Before breakfast Dean went to check on the other occupants of the bunker. He was happy to find Sam sitting up and looking much better, if a little pale.
“Hey Sammy, how’re you feeling?”
“Great”. He smiled painfully. “Ok, maybe not great, but I’m getting there”.
“Think you can face some breakfast?”
“Yeah, give me a minute and I’ll be right up”.
Dean held up a hand emphatically. “Woah, you’re stopping there, I’ll bring it down to you”.
“It’s okay, I can get out of bed without keeling over”.
“Yeah well you dropped like a sack of potatoes coming out of that church”. He fixed Sam with a sceptical eye.
“I’ll be fine. If you want me to stay in bed you’re going to have to chain me to it”.
“Don’t think that I won’t…” But Dean caved under Sam’s watery puppy eyed stare. “Alright, but if you start feeling bad it’s straight back to bed. Take it easy dude”.
Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder before leaving. He had one more stop to make.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The dungeon door protested with a creak as it opened. Crowley shied from the sudden flood of light. He sniffed as if he’d been crying,
“Morning sunshine, sleep well?” Dean strode across the room and planted himself in front of the demon with his arms crossed.
“Not really… I’ve been asked the question ‘how do you sleep at night?’ more times than I care to recall. Only now is it I realise how a tormented conscience keeps you from rest”.
“Thinking on your sins huh?”
“And I have so many to think about”. His head fell to his chest, almost appearing shamed. “I have wronged you Dean, and I am sorry. Words will never be enough I know, but I hope to find some way right my wrongs”.
“You can’t change what you did Crowley, good deeds don’t erase the bad. It doesn’t work like that”.
Crowley looked back up at Dean then. Like the flick of a switch his manner changed from sorrowful to desperate. “Then how can I wash this blood from my hands? I can’t stand it!”
“It will always be there…”
“Don’t say that… don’t say that to me!” Distress shone in the demon’s eyes as he interrupted.
“… but all things fade in time. What you’ve done, it’s raw and weeping. But it will scar, and when you’re a different man the marks will be there to remind you what you used to be. They will keep you on the right path. I was in hell Crowley, I tortured. You think all the evil things I kill now make a damn bit of difference to the poor saps I tore apart? No… but I know there is some part of me capable of such depravity, and I won’t give in to it. Be a better man Crowley, that’s all you can do”.
Crowley sank back, nearly deflating within his chains. “Thank you Dean… and thank Sam for me, for giving me this chance. Maybe I can work at being a better man”.
“Hey, maybe you’ll even find love”. Dean uncrossed his arms and relaxed. He couldn’t restrain himself from poking at the demon’s revelation to Sam in the church.
The demon nodded slowly, taking it seriously. “Maybe I will be worthy of it eventually… Could I trouble you for a drink of water?”
“I can do you one better than that. How do pancakes sound?” If this was an act then Crowley was one hell of an actor. Dean thought the time had come to let the demon’s leash out a little…
“You would make me pancakes?” He sounded completely astounded.
“Well I’m doing them for Sam and Cas, might as well throw you some too”. Dean stepped forwards and started to undo Crowley’s shackles. “I’m going to trust you Crowley. You’ll only get one chance to show me I’m not wrong in trusting you. Understand?”
He didn’t brandish Ruby’s knife that he had tucked discreetly into his belt. He didn’t threaten to stab the demon if he put a toe out of line. Instead Dean relied on fragile words of trust, leaving talk of consequences hanging in the air. If Crowley really was cured maybe that would be enough…
“Understood”.
His chains hit the floor with a heavy clink.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And so Dean found himself dishing up pancakes to the three at the table. Sam sat at the head with Castiel and Crowley next to him, facing each other, like two sides of the same coin. Castiel fidgeted and watched the demon warily. It was strange… he was always so still as an angel. Like an undisturbed lake he hardly moved. Now he shifted about, almost seeming uncomfortable in his skin. Crowley looked at Castiel with sorrowful eyes when the former angel glanced away. Sam looked between them as if he expected some kind of angel-demon fight to break out.
Dean knew how he felt. He could imagine Castiel standing to raise a glowing hand at Crowley, while the demon hissed and spat every insult back at the angel. But nothing of the sort happened. They both sat eating their pancakes. It was almost surreal. Dean inwardly smiled at the fact such scenes of ordinary domesticity would be strange for him.
Well… now he noticed Castiel wasn’t so much eating his pancakes as picking at them and swallowing bits down as if it were laced with barbed wire. Then he stopped altogether.
“Something wrong Cas?”
“I’m not hungry”. He replied with a small voice.
“You’re human now, you’ve got to eat”.
“Thank you for reminding me. I’m still not hungry”. The words were bitter but his tone was dead.
“Do you even know what hungry feels like?”
“I am familiar with the sensation; I was practically human when I lost my powers before… I don’t feel hungry”.
“Okay… just let me know when you do want something to eat”. Dean was reluctant to push at the former angel recalling Castiel’s explosion the night before. But he was going to make sure he had something later.
Castiel’s chair scraped back and he went off to goodness knows where… Dean just let him go.
Crowley finished his pancakes and ventured a question. “May I take a look at some of these books?”
The dangerous ones were under lock and key so Dean couldn’t see what harm it could do. He waved a hand at the bookcase. “Have at it”.
That left Sam with Dean; eventually he downed his fork and yawned.
“You okay Sammy?”
“Yeah, just tired”.
“Okay, back to bed with you”.
“Dean…” Sam was about to protest but Dean gave him a glare that said he couldn’t be reasoned with. “Alright… and just give him time yeah?”
“Cas? I’ll give him as much time as he needs, as long as he’s eating and sleeping and keeping himself alive”.
“It’s a big change for him, you can’t expect him to hit the ground running”.
“I’d rather he didn’t hit the ground and face plant you know? And he’s not the only fallen angel we’ve got to worry about. The whole world just saw Heaven fall, I’m a little scared to turn the TV on”.
“Then don’t. Can’t we take the day off? We’re not the only hunters out there you know”.
“You can take the day off, you’re going to bed. Me? I’ve got a job to do”.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eventually Dean did turn the TV on to find footage of falling angels all over every channel.
“… the public is advised to call 911 and not approach these individuals. It is not known what danger, if any, they pose…”
The internet was rife with theories, from government conspiracies and aliens, to hoaxes. Apparently some were convinced this was evidence of the end times and a few had even committed suicide.
There were a few reports of fallen angels in the local area. Dean scribbled down some details, but felt conflicted at leaving. He really didn’t want to leave Crowley and Castiel alone with Sam ailing to boot. But this had to be looked into… One location was only a short drive away. He might be able to make it there and back before they even noticed he was gone.
Decision made Dean went to change into his suit and tell the others he was off out. Sam was deep asleep, so he left a note. Crowley was deep in a book, and gave a nod of acknowledgement. Castiel wasn’t in his room… after a scout around Dean found him in the kitchen, leaning slightly forwards over the counter. He was facing away from Dean, head bowed and quiet.
“Hey Cas, if you wanted something to eat I could have made you…” It was then Dean noticed a slick of red on the surface Castiel bent over. “Cas? You okay?”
Dean rushed forwards and put a hand to the former angel’s shoulder to pull him around.
The front of his white shirt was covered in blood.
“Fuck, was it Crowley? Did Crowley do this to you?” Dean’s frantic mind jumped to the logical explanation. The last time he’d seen Castiel covered in blood Crowley had shot him.
Then the glint of metal in Castiel’s hand became too clear. He had done this to himself… The ex-angel raised the knife to his chest and went to take another slice, but Dean smacked his hand away. The knife clattered across the kitchen floor as Castiel lost his hold on it. Dean quickly shirked his jacket off and pressed it to the former angel’s chest. His eyes were hollow and lowered, as if he hadn’t the strength to raise them.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
Dean grabbed Castiel’s blank face with his free hand, gripping him about the jaw, raising his head to try and force eye contact.
“Answer me!”
Castiel closed his eyes, and Dean squeezed none too gently to get his attention. The former angel’s eyes flew back open and met Dean’s gaze. Dean almost wished he hadn’t, they were windows to Castiel’s soul now, and all he could see was pain.
“… I’m cutting it out. It doesn’t belong… I can cut it out”. The ex-angel finally spoke, his voice detached.
“Your soul? You can’t cut it out Cas, you know that doesn’t make sense”. Though sense and logic clearly didn’t mean much to Castiel in his current state.
He moaned slightly as Dean pushed harder on his wounds.
“But it doesn’t belong, this thing inside me, this useless thing where my grace should be”. A scowl darkened Castiel’s features.
“Let’s sit you down…” Dean helped Castiel slide down to the floor. He checked under the jacket to find the blood slowing a little. “I need to run and get the first aid kit. Can you keep this pressed against your chest?”
Dean placed Castiel’s hand on the sopping jacket and inched away, but Castiel dropped it and violently dug his fingers into his wounds.
“I hate it! It’s not mine! I don’t want it!” He spat.
Quickly Dean pulled the former angel’s hand away before he could damage himself further. He replaced the jacket and sighed. “Cas, please, I’m trying to help you here…”
“He gave it to me, I hate it…” His voice was getting weaker. His eyelids were starting to drop.
Dean grabbed the stained trench coat in a tight fist and shook the former angel. “It’s your soul Cas, you hear me? It’s yours, the same one you would have had if you fell any other way. Like Anna, remember?”
Castiel’s eyes finally closed. It looked like they would have to talk when he woke.
Dean heard heavy footsteps behind him.
“What happened?” It was Crowley.
“Cas had an accident”. It felt somehow wrong for the demon to see Castiel like this. But Dean wasn’t above asking for aid. “Well, don’t just stand there. Help me get him to his room”.
Crowley approached like a lamb afraid of a lion. “He’s bleeding…”
“Thank you Captain Obvious. A little help here?” The demon’s face was pale when Dean turned to look at him. “Don’t tell me curing you has made you afraid of blood?”
“No, it’s just… I left him like that before, and I was glad. His suffering was so sweet. and now, I’m scared for him. And it scares me that I used to enjoy it. Why would I find such pain enjoyable?” Crowley’s expression had turned melancholic; his voice was full of disbelief.
Dean sincerely hoped Crowley wasn’t about to lose it too. He couldn’t handle two of them falling apart. “Well if we can get him to his room and patch him up he’ll be absolutely fine. He’ll just need some stitches”.
At that Crowley gave a nod and stepped forwards to take Castiel’s arm.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The two of them got Castiel to his room with little trouble. Crowley made a quick exit as soon as the former angel hit the mattress. Dean swore he was on the verge of tears.
He looked down at the prone figure before him and sighed. The metallic tang of blood hung in the air… at least Castiel was out for this. Dean threw his wet jacket on the floor and pulled Castiel’s coat and shirt off. The coat wasn’t easy to manhandle off the former angel, Dean couldn’t bring himself to cut it away. But he took a knife to the shirt, it was already torn and ruined, the material pulled away after clinging tackily to the former angel’s wounds.
That’s when Dean first got a good look at them. Slices crisscrossed Castiel’s chest. They were long but not too deep. Thankfully he seemed to have missed nicking anything vital, but how different it could have been if he had used a bit more pressure, if Dean had been a bit too late, if he… It didn’t bear thinking about. So Dean busied himself wiping marred flesh with antiseptic and talking softly in case Castiel could hear… Okay, this is going to sting a bit… I’m just going to start on this one here… you’ll feel a bit of pulling… All the while Dean worked Castiel remained still. He finally let out a moan as Dean pulled him up to wrap gauze around his chest. But he didn’t regain consciousness.
Dean settled back down in his seat and watched the former angel. He looked so peaceful. It was hard to believe he had been cutting into his own flesh moments earlier. The fallen angel he was going to look into crossed Dean’s mind. No… he couldn’t leave now. There was a fallen angel who needed him right here. He would stay, it could wait until tomorrow. Dean sat back and listened to the light huffs of Castiel’s breath, he found himself dozing off too…
Some time later Dean half roused himself awake as somebody came into the room and set a cup of coffee down next to him.
“Thanks Sammy”. Dean muttered muzzily as he rubbed his eyes and pushed himself upright.
He found Crowley, not Sam, standing by.
“Oh… sorry, it’s just usually me and Sam down here you know…” and I don’t expect demons to bring me coffee, he left unsaid.
“It’s fine”, Crowley inclined his head towards Castiel. “Has he not woken yet?”
“No, but give him time, he’s stronger than he looks”.
“I know…” How he knew was left hanging in the air as Crowley made his exit. Dean suspected it had something to do with shooting the former angel.
He reached for the coffee and took a sniff before sipping it. Some part of him expected it to be poisoned. This new caring Crowley would take some getting used to, the concern he showed over Castiel was bizarre… but heartening.
As he placed the mug back down Dean caught Castiel staring at him through half lidded eyes.
“Hey, how are you feeling? Want anything for the pain?”
“No… I can bear it”. Castiel’s fingers ran lightly over the bandages covering his chest.
“Do you remember what you did?”
“Yes, it was foolish… I’m sorry Dean, I don’t know why I did it, it’s just…” His brow furrowed. “The world is too heavy, and I am too light”.
For a moment Dean wondered if Castiel’s mind was still addled, but then it made perfect sense. Without wings gravity would be holding him down to the earth, and yet he would be free of their weight.
“Just promise me you’re not going to do anything stupid like that again”.
“I won’t… I know it wasn’t a reasonable course of action, it only made sense to me at the time”.
“Okay… and for the record. Your soul is yours; it has nothing to do with Metatron”. Dean was no authority on matters of angels and souls, but he had to make Castiel understand that what he had within him was his, and it was good.
“It feels… wrong”. Castiel settled a fist over his heart.
“Of course it does, you never had one before”.
The ex-angel looked thoughtful. “I touched souls and I’ve drained them, I took them in from purgatory… but I’ve never had my own”.
“Well now you have, and you’ve got to take care of it”.
“I didn’t ask for this… I didn’t want a soul”.
“I know you didn’t, but you just have to play the cards you’re dealt”.
Castiel looked around the room and then suddenly pushed himself up with a hiss. He paused and gasped, eyes scrunched up in pain.
“Woah, easy there, what’s up?” Dean got to his feet, making to steady the former angel.
“Where’s my coat?”
“Don’t worry, it’s down here. It’s just a bit messy; I’ll get it cleaned for you. We should really get you some new clothes anyway. You can’t wear that old thing all the time”.
“Why not?” He seemed genuinely perplexed.
“Because you don’t have magical angel dry cleaning any more. Besides, variety is the spice of life, it’s about time we got you something new”.
Dean helped Castiel lie back down, his breaths were short and panted until his head hit the pillow.
“Get some rest. Just close your eyes, relax, and you’ll be asleep before you know it”.
Castiel gave a slight nod and closed his eyes. The frown on his forehead said he was having a harder time with the “relax” part.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Glad to find Sam awake Dean strode into his room and flopped down in the seat by his bed.
“Everything alright?” Sam looked up at him with concern.
Dean sat forwards and rubbed a hand over his face with a deep sigh. “We’re going to have to watch Cas. I just found him trying to carve his soul out of his chest with a kitchen knife”.
“Shit, is he okay?”
“Yeah… physically anyway. I got to him before he managed to do any serious damage. He’s stitched up and in bed now”.
“… and mentally?”
“I don’t know man… it was like he was in a dream when he was doing it. But when I spoke to him just now he was perfectly lucid, he knew it was crazy… I didn’t tell you, but he smashed the bunker up too”.
“Oh… I wondered where the lamps had gone”.
“You don’t want to see the map… or the books. Anyway I cleaned up, I figured it was a one off… thought once he’d let the rage out he might be okay. But now I don’t know”.
“It’s early days; it’ll take time for him to adjust”.
“I hope you’re right… but what if falling broke him? What if he never adjusts? He could have another ‘episode’ and… ”
“- and what if he’s perfectly fine? Give him a chance Dean. In the mean time we can keep a close eye on him, make sure he’s not alone with anything sharp again…”
“I suppose…” Dean seemed to come round, but the troubled expression didn’t leave his face. “… I did turn the TV on. It’s not good Sammy, the whole world saw what happened. Looks like the authorities are taking the angels in, people are being advised to call 911… God knows what they’re going to do with them”.
“We have to find them Dean. Cas had his grace cut out, he’s human… but the others, they were cast out like Lucifer. They might still have some power, and what they could do…”
“I know. I’ve found some reports of fallen angels around here. One is just a short drive away… but I can’t check it out, not now. You guys need me here”.
“You should go Dean. I’m fine, really I’m like 99%. I can watch them”.
“Yeah, and what happens when Crowley goes evil and Cas goes psycho and you need that 1% you haven’t got?”
“Ok then, we’ll all go”.
“What? No!” Dean looked at Sam as if he was crazy.
“Just hear me out. Why don’t we all go - you can drop me and Cas off at the shops. I’ll take him to do some nice, normal, safe, human things… like buy some stuff he’ll need - clothes, a toothbrush. You can take Crowley to check out the angel report and keep him within stabbing range.
Dean let out a brief huff of laughter, almost by accident. “You know… for a moment there the thought of stabbing Crowley seemed strange. He’s just been so… nice recently. He helped with Cas, and he brought me coffee. Sam, the dude actually brought me coffee. I feel like I’ve stepped into a parallel world…”
“Try having him tell you that you deserve to be loved”. Sam gave a little shudder.
“Hey, are you sure you want to go shopping with Cas tomorrow? Wouldn’t you rather get cosy with your boyfriend Crowley instead?” Dean gave a sly smile.
“Bite me” Sam threw back at him. “So we’re on for tomorrow then?”
“Okay… just don’t dress Cas up like a douche alright?”
“I’m not going to dress him in anything; he can choose his own clothes”.
“Well, don’t let him dress up like a douche then. I’m gonna hit the hay, and you should get some sleep, we’ve got a busy day tomorrow”.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dean was drifting around the edges of sleep when he felt a presence by his bed again. This time he didn’t reach for the knife. He rolled over and started speaking before he even saw Castiel. He knew who it would be.
“Cas, you need to sleep”
“I can’t”. The former angel gripped the arm of the chair tightly with one hand; the other was clasped over his chest. He sat slumped and breathing heavily with dark shadows beneath his eyes.
Dean pushed up on his elbows and gave the ex-angel a critical eye. “Let me get you something for the pain. It’ll help you sleep too”.
“No”. His voice was as tight as his hold on the chair. He was clearly hurting.
“You don’t have to suffer like this”. Although pleased that this Castiel didn’t seem to have the same proclivity for drugs as his 2014 version, Dean still didn’t want to see him in pain.
“I will endure it”.
“You shouldn’t have to”.
“I want to”.
Dean raised an eyebrow at that. Why on earth would he want to go through such pain? Was it the same sort of crap penance thing that saw him stay behind in purgatory? Dean decided to drop it, he clearly wasn’t going to make any headway in that direction.
“Okay, let’s get you back to bed. I’ll sit with you a while”.
Castiel complied with that direction, and Dean stopped until he was sure the former angel was well away. He crept back to his own bed as if afraid to wake a child he had just laid down to sleep.
When morning came around and Dean worked his way from sleep, he sensed a presence at his side again.
“Cas… old habits die hard huh?” He rolled over expecting to find the ex-angel watching him intently having stopped up all night.
Instead Castiel was fast asleep. His previously tight grip on the chair was now lax, and his chest rose and fell rhythmically with soft breaths of sleep. Although annoyed to find the ex-angel had strayed from his bed again, Dean was glad to see he was at least getting some rest.
Chapter Four