SPN BB: World of sweets and Sours Pt 4

[altyronsmaker]

Master Post | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5
Part 4

Sam woke to the feeling of being watched. Opening his eyes, he saw nothing in front of him, but felt a presence behind him. He jerked around. "Jesus! Cas. Damn. Didn't Dean tell you about watching people while they sleep?" he complained, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

Frowning, Cas said, "He said he didn't like it when I watched him sleep. He mentioned nothing about other people also disliking it."

Tossing the covers aside, Sam stood up and was seized by an involuntary need to stretch.

"Do you do that every time you wake? It sounds painful."

Sam scratched at his stomach and said, "Feels good though. And yeah. Every morning." He looked over at Cas, who was staring at his waist. Sam pulled his shirt back down, and Cas looked up to meet his gaze again, swallowing lightly. "So. What'd ya find?" Sam asked, as he pulled on a pair of jeans from his duffle, not bothering to button them.

Before Cas could answer, though, Sam remembered the sheet of paper on the night stand. "Wait. I think I have something, too. Meaning that I have nothing, but only because the something I had was wiped from my memory." He retrieved the paper he'd written on the night before and sat back down.

Cas followed his movements, a confused frown marring his brow. "You are not making sense, Sam."

"I know, believe me. It makes no sense to me either," he replied, handing the paper to Cas, who took it cautiously. "But I wrote it all down before it went away."

"You visited a bar," Cas said, reading the list. "Ah. You went back to the bar where Dean was taken. Good idea."

"Apparently, I did. But I don't remember any of it, now. I did when I got here; that's how I knew to write it all down. And I can't be sure I got everything out before it was gone." Sam held little hope that Cas would know what to make of his list, but he had to ask. "What do you make of it?"

"You say your memory erased as you wrote this list?" Cas asked.

"Yes. I don't remember anything after leaving Lena's house last night, until I got here. There's almost a whole hour gone." Sam said, leaning back in his chair. "That list tells me I talked to another bar tender and gave him my number. But it doesn't say why, or what he looked like, or what he said."

"This actually fits with what I found discovered. Given the oddity of the name and the nature of power being used on the witnesses and you, yes, Sam, it's safe to assume the creature who is kidnapping women is the same one who took Dean two nights ago. Your 'Fael,' the man who took your brother, is the same 'Fael' I discovered who kidnapped the women we're looking for."

Sam stared at Cas. "You're telling me that the guy who took Dean is the same guy who snatched those women?" The implication hit him, and he stammered, "My brother's kidnapper is...is...he's an angel?"

"Yes. Israfael. He used to be the angel of music. It is said he stopped the moon in the sky when he sang in Heaven." Cas shrugged. "I have never heard him sing. He left Heaven not long after I was created."

"Do you know why? And what is with kidnapping women whose names are derivatives of lunar goddesses?"

"I cannot answer your first question; however, your second question is interesting and bears entertaining. Do you remember the Elysian Fields Hotel? The gathering of the gods?"

Flinching from the memory of watching Gabriel murdered by Lucifer, Sam murmured, "Of course."

"The gods of other mythologies are real. You know this."

Sam chuckled humorlessly. "You could say that. Dean and I have been tied up by more than our fair share of them."

"Yes, well. In this case, Anumati is a jealous goddess. When Israfael left, and no longer sang in Heaven, she grew...furious. She hunted Israfael down and promised to kill him if he didn't either return to Heaven and sing for her or provide her with a sacrifice. Five women every two hundred and fifty earth years. He refused to return to Heaven, preferring to walk among men and learn of their music and their passions."

"So rather than return and, I don't know, do the job he was created for, Israfael chose instead to sacrifice the people he was so interested in."

"Yes. In return for his sacrifice, Anumati promised to never reveal his location on earth." Cas said.

"Terrific. I take it no one in Heaven or Hell's got wind of this guy's location?"

"Anumati has been quite stringent in keeping her promise," Cas said by way of reply.

"Still, she didn't count on Israfael taking a liking to Dean. And that is the mistake which will lead us to him," Sam said, pleased at the break in the case. He smiled at Cas. "I've been so focused on finding Dean and just sort of left you holding the bag on locating the missing women, Cas." He sighed. "I'd apologize for that, but you pretty much solved the case."

Cas shrugged. "I am confident you would have been successful with or without me," he said.

Sam stood and laid his hand on Cas' shoulder. "Still, you're pretty useful to have around, you know."

Cas cocked one eyebrow. "I'm an angel. Of course I'm useful."

A wicked voice is Sam's head whispered that Cas was not just useful, but pretty easy on the eyes, too. He opened his mouth to say as much, but thought better of it, thinking that Cas might take it for teasing and not for the truth, as Sam meant it. Instead, he patted Cas on the back, and went to get a shirt from his duffle.

"Then I guess it's back to the bar," Sam said decisively, pulling the shirt up over his shoulders and buttoning it.

"Why the bar?" Cas asked, watching him as he buttoned his jeans.

Once fully dressed, Sam took a deep breath and said, "Because this angel has my brother. He's holding women hostage to sacrifice them to some jealous moon goddess, and he used his power on me. He works at this bar. When he goes in tonight, we'll be waiting. He will tell me where Dean is." He turned on Cas, menace clear in his eyes. "Then Dean and I are gonna get the location of those women from him. No matter what, shortly after we get this guy, those women will be home with their families and friends."

"Okay."

Nodding, Sam grabbed the Impala's keys from the dresser, tossed his duffle over his shoulder, and headed out to the car, Castiel following right behind him.

They drove in silence, the only sound the dull drone of tires on asphalt, and the occasional click of the turn signal as Sam navigated through town to the bar. Finding the place deserted in the mid afternoon, he parked the car in a lot across the street, making sure to choose a spot that had the best vantage point of the bar. Sinking low in the seat, he settled in for a stakeout.

"You do know, Sam, that Israfael will be able to detect my presence, if he hasn't already," Cas finally said after several minutes of stillness.

The thought that Cas might be compromised worried Sam, but it could also be useful. "I hadn't considered that," he said, frowning, "but now that you mention it, that might not be such a bad thing."

"It is my understanding that a 'stake out' must be rather surreptitious. You using me as bait seems to defeat the purpose."

"If he can sense you, because you guys are brothers, then he'll be focused on you." Sam said, eyes on the bar.

Cas frowned at him, confused. "Why would you consider that to be a good thing?"

Sam glanced at him. "If he's worried about you being around, he won't see me coming."

"He knows you, though, Sam. Has already manipulated your mind. How can you expect to get to him undetected?"

Sam chuckled. "It's sweet that you're worried," he said, then smiled over at Cas. "But for an angel, you sure are forgetful."

"The Enochian symbols on your ribs," Cas stated. "Are you sure you still have them?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Sam said, turning back to watch the front of the bar.

"Because you spent years in Hell battling between two very powerful archangels in Lucifer's cage," Cas said, matter of fact. "At the very least, your body was destroyed. Why would the person who brought you back recast the sigils?"

Turning back to him, Sam shook his head, not ready to give up so easily on catching Fael. "So put them back," he said easily.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Cas said, frowning.

"What? Why not?"

Cas glared at him. "Dean still has his sigils, and I can't locate him."

"But you don't know if that's because Fael has him under some kind of protection spell, or if it's the sigils."

"If I put the symbols back on your ribs, I will no longer be able to find you when things go wrong."

Sam turned to him. "Cas. We're going up against an angel that's older than you to force him to reveal where he's taken my brother. To do that, one of us needs to get the drop on him. You can't, because you're both angels. I'm the only answer here. I want all the protection I can get, if you don't mind."

Cas leveled a heady stare at Sam, who met his eyes without flinching. "Do it, Cas."

"As you wish." He slid across the seat, and lifted his hand. "It will be painful," Castiel said softly.

"I remember," Sam whispered, closing his eyes as Cas laid a palm over his chest.

Heat flared within him as though it were a literal fire that scorched the forgotten language onto his ribs. He could almost feel every dip and swirl, every line and curve of the sigils burning into his bones. Before he could gather the breath to scream out his pain, the deed was done, and Cas was pulling away.

Sam grabbed his hand, holding it to his chest. "Ouch," he said, breathless with pain.

"I'm sorry," Cas whispered, his soft breath brushing against Sam's cheek. Then his cool forehead rested against Sam's temple.

Sam entwined his fingers with Cas'. "Castiel," he whispered, his voice softer than breath. Hhe turned his head slowly, making sure to give Cas time to avoid it, but Cas didn't move. He didn't close his eyes or lower his head or do any of the things Sam was certain he would do. Instead, the pink tip of his tongue rolled along the seam of his lips, and left a shiny moist trail in its wake.

Sam knew Cas wanted Dean, and any other time, he'd have left well enough alone. But Dean was his first, and Dean was missing, and Sam needed. So he tilted his head and without regard to the consequences of his actions, he took Castiel's lips under his, wanting to appease the ache that both of them shared.

Cas remained still, unmoving in the kiss, then Sam tilted his head, and snaked his tongue over the seam of Cas' mouth, and those tight lips opened enough for him to slip inside. Then Cas got involved in the kiss as well, his hand sliding over Sam's chest to curve around the back of his neck and into the sweat damp curls at the base of his skull. His lips parted further, and Sam surged into the kiss. He pulled Cas over into his lap, hands tight around his waist while he plundered Cas' mouth.

"Sam," Cas murmured, mouth sliding over Sam's lips to his jaw, and further down over his neck. Sam leaned his head back, longing for something sharper than kisses, and Cas obliged, nipping at the delicate skin under Sam's jaw.

"Cas," he breathed.

Then Cas' mouth was back on his, ravenous. Sam opened to it, breathing heavily through his nose. He wasn't usually one to be taken, being the more aggressive partner had always served him well in sexual situations, but Cas, seemed to be using everything in his power to tame Sam. The control and determination with which he explored Sam's mouth, his body, his skin, left Sam feeling vulnerable. It wasn't comfortable, not at all, but Cas made it okay. He kept Sam anchored in the now, didn't let him flounder backwards and down into the pit. Cas was all light and energy and focus, and Sam basked in the warmth that radiated like the brightest embers after a conflagration-no threat, just comfort.

Sam had been so long in the cold, it seemed. Whole chunks of times and experience gone from him, tucked away behind a wall he couldn't surmount. But flashes of memories burned the back of his brain, carving chips in the wall he knew he shouldn't mess with, and it scared him a little. Then he remembered, This is Cas. Sam trusted him like no one else, save Dean, so he held on. He held on and he kissed Castiel like it was the only time he'd ever get to because it could destroy him, and it was wonderful.

Cool hands snaked under his t-shirt, riding the crest of his ribs and chest, lifting the material up as they went, until Sam had to break away and pull the offending cloth up and off. "Off, off," he muttered, and flung the shirt into the back seat. He pushed at Cas' coat, jerking it down around his elbows, and Cas pulled his hands away and shoved the damned thing off, the he ripped open his shirt, tie still tight at his neck.

Sam pushed him away to tug off the dark blue silk, then he slowly opened the collar of Cas' shirt, exposing the pale skin of his throat. Skin he'd never seen; skin that had never seen the light of day. He wondered what it tasted like. Leaning forward, he placed an opened mouthed kiss at the hollow of Cas' throat, letting his tongue sample that skin.

"Salty," he said.

Cas sighed over him, and shrugged off his jacket and shirt to toss them in the back seat with Sam's t-shirt.

They were both naked to the waist. Sam let his hands explore the surface of Cas' body, his fingers fitting neatly into the intercostals spaces of the angel's ribs, before sliding to his back, searching.

"You can't feel them," Cas said.

Sam looked up at him, confused. "Why?"

"They belong to me," Cas said, leaning down and planting a kiss on Sam's shoulder. "Not my vessel."

"Oh," Sam whispered, disappointed. He'd often wondered what Cas' wings felt like. Would they be soft and downy, or stiff like an eagle's wing. A sudden thought crept into his brain. "Has Dean ever felt them?"

Cas paused and rolled his head on Sam's shoulder to look up at him. Frowning, he said, "Yes. But he doesn't remember."

Sam let his fingers roam over Cas' back, as though petting the appendages. "When you pulled him out of Hell."

Cas nodded. "He needed their protection."

Sam nodded once. "Okay."

Cas sat up and looked Sam right in the eye. "I swear, Sam, if you ever need the protection of my wings, you will have it."

Sam smiled softly, eyes focused on Cas' pink, abraded mouth. "Good," he said. And leaned forward, taking Cas' mouth in another searing kiss.

*****

Dean was feeling loose and warm all over, seduced by the food, the alcohol, and the goddamned music. About halfway through dinner, Fael had gone in and traded out the old scratchy records-which Dean had to admit he loved the sound of-for some CDs on the changer. Eric Clapton, Ray Charles, and B.B. King wafted out into the night air.

"You're a sneaky SOB, you know that, right?" Dean asked his host several hours after sundown. The steaks were gone, and between the two of them, Dean and Fael managed to put away a six pack of beer as well as make a serious dent in a bottle of Jack.

"I resent that. There's nothing sneaky at all about what I've been doing," Fael said, rolling his head along the back of his chair to pin Dean with a benevolent stare. "I told you from the start that I wanted you." He chuckled as he lifted the last bottle of beer to his lips. "And I'm not the only one, if what I saw in the bar the other night is any indication."

"Sam and I-" Dean started.

"Not talking about Sam," Fael said, shaking his head. He leaned forward and put the bottle on the table with finality. "I'm talking about Castiel."

Dean blinked. The heady satiation of good food, booze and music made him a little slow. But he put some order to his thoughts, and came to a conclusion he totally wasn't prepared to come to. "Holy fuck. You're an angel." He frowned. "Should've known. Only one thing hurts that way."

Fael just stared at him.

"You're a goddamn angel," he said again, shaking his head.

Sighing, Fael nodded. "You could say that, I guess."

"I cannot believe this." Dean frowned, sitting forward in his chair. "How the hell did you get a bead on me, anyway. I'm supposed to be undetectable to you!"

Smiling, Fael said, "You walked into my bar, Dean. No detection required." He shrugged. "Besides, I'm old, Dean. A lot older than the forgotten language your sigils are written in. Cas was only newly created when I left Heaven."

"You left? As in, just...walked away from the Host of Heaven?"

Fael nodded. "What? Did you think we couldn't?"

"Considering you don't have free will, hell no, I didn't think you could."

"Lucifer did it." Fael reasoned. "There really wasn't anything special about him-I mean, other than his utterly asinine desire to be as powerful as God." He shrugged. "Free will is a gift from God, Dean, to all his creatures. Just because we were created to serve, didn't mean we couldn't, or wouldn't, choose to do something different. It simply meant that the consequences were much more...dire."

Dean marveled at that for a moment. Knowing that angels, too, had a choice made certain complications in his life suddenly less complicated. He started to smile.

Then the implications of all Fael had said added up. "You did take those girls," Dean concluded.

"Wow." Fael seemed surprised, and Dean felt an unholy satisfaction at putting him off guard. "I had hoped you'd take a little longer to figure that bit out."

"What can I say? I'm damned good at my job," Dean said, angry. "Why? What do you need to kidnap women for?"

Fael stood and started picking up the plates and bottles to carry them inside.

"Leave the goddamned dishes, Fael!" Dean slammed his fist on the table, rattling the bottles and his plate. "Tell me why you took those women."

Fael glared at him, amber eyes glowing. "Don't be rude, Dean," he said, and murmured something under his breath, before heading through the doors into the kitchen.

Dean opened his mouth to yell at him, but nothing came out. No sound, no breath. Nothing. He tried again. Still nothing. He grabbed his plate and hurled it at the doorway, feeling immense satisfaction at the loud shatter. Fael simply turned and glared at him again. Dean picked up one of his beer bottles to hurl it at his captor. The bottle flew through the air, and then dropped as though it hit some material hanging in the door.

Fael continued to rinse off his dishes and load them into the washer. When he was finished, he left the kitchen to lean on the door jamb. Dean glared at him from his chair at the table outside.

"I made a deal," he said. "I had a job in Heaven. One that I was really, really good at, but didn't enjoy. Angels and gods-yes, gods-would stop for my singing, Dean. I was the angel of music. I wrote the songs the angels sang to worship God. I wrote the songs that announced the birth of the Christ. It was my music after which God modeled the song of the birds, of the wind, of this world. My music was perfect and beautiful and moved the heavens to stillness."

Dean listened, anger boiling beneath his skin, itching at the back of his impotent throat.

"I also had, well, to your understanding the best word for it would be 'fans.' I had one particular fan who stopped everything she was doing when I sang." Fael came back out onto the deck and sat down across from Dean. "I was so good, Dean, she stopped the moon in the sky when I sang." He took a deep breath. "But perfection is not satisfying. You know this; so much of your culture is built upon the futility of Utopia. So I left." He frowned at Dean. "Can you understand that? Doing your job, the only thing you know to do, and longing for something else, even though you are perfection?"

Dean turned away from him, heaved a breath and then another, refusing to answer.

"I think you can," Fael said. Then, "Anyway, I left Heaven and came here. I had been watching humanity from its beginnings." At Dean's incredulous look, he chuckled. "Yes, I'm that old. I had watched you, all of you. Your creativity was wondrous-is wondrous, if you must know. You had none of the talents of Heaven; in fact, your paltry brains do not have the capacity to understand the glory of Heaven or of its music and light and love, but you tried. It wasn't perfect, but it was...sublime in its imperfection.

"At last, I heard the beginnings of the sounds I could be honored to create. So, I left the perfection of Heaven behind to seek the product of grief, of trials and tribulations. Music that had feeling and power in its rawness.

"You weep and wail at things beyond your control, and still you go on. I wanted that...drive. The problem was that I was missed. Anumati...have you heard of her?"

Dean frowned and gave a negative shake of his head.

"I thought not. Anumati is one of the goddesses of the moon, Dean. When I sang, she forgot everything to focus on me, including the movement of the moon in the sky. When she found out I had left, she searched for me. It took her a while, about four thousand years, but she eventually found me. She demanded I return to Heaven."

Dean took a breath to speak, but was still held silent. He banged a fist on the table.

"Can you be polite now?"

Dean nodded once, and immediately, like silent thunder, he felt his voice return to him. "But you didn't want to go back. So you made a deal. Sacrifices for freedom."

Fael nodded. "Yes. I agreed to sacrifice five women every two hundred and fifty years to appease her, and she promised to never reveal my location."

Dean shook his head. "Are the women still alive?"

"They are."

"Where?" Dean asked.

"I have a house in town. They aren't in some hovel, if that was what you were thinking. I've spent a long time making a nice place for these women."

"A gilded cage is still a cage," Dean stated.

Fael eyed him curiously, and Dean felt not unlike a bug, pinned and wriggling under observation. Then Fael asked him, "Do you know anything about them?"

"I know enough," Dean replied. "And I know you're still planning on murdering people to keep your ass here. That makes you no better than any other evil fucker I've had to gank." He grew quiet for a moment, trying to calm down before Fael silenced him again. Then, after a couple of breaths, "It doesn't matter how much I might like you-and believe me, the jury's still out on that one, no matter what you think." He looked up at Fael, angry and resolved. "You know I can't let you hurt those people, Fael. I'll kill you myself before I let that happen. And don't think being what you are will stop me."

Fael steepled his hands together. "I know you think you have to try to stop me. But this will happen Dean. Anumati will get her sacrifice, and I will stay here, free and alone if need be. I'll do anything to keep my privacy and the life I've built here." He gave an unapologetic smile. "I won't be going back."

"Why are you even still hiding?" Dean blurted, frustrated. "Don't you know anything about what's going on in Heaven right now?"

"You mean do I know about Castiel leading an army against Raphael? Do I know that my brothers are at war? Do I know that God has left His house in the care of his idiotic children?" He chuckled mirthlessly. "I want no part of that turmoil, Dean. And if they knew where I was, they'd pull me back in."

"Dude. Nobody up there cares about music right now. I know. I've been there."

He held up a hand, warding off Dean's protest. "Oh, Castiel would leave me alone, I have no doubt, but Raphael is ruthless. Always has been. He's a determined archangel with the motive and means to get whatever he wants. If he finds me, if Anumati reveals where I am because I failed to hold up my end of the bargain... Well. I don't have to tell you how that will turn out."

Dean tried to make him see reason. "Fael, they're fighting a war. Nobody's gonna care about you making a choice to abandon Heaven and live out your existence with the dirty mud monkeys."

"Oh. That is a hideous appellation," Fael said, grimacing. "Where did you hear that?"

"Your brother Uriel had several nicknames for us humans," Dean told him.

Fael huffed a laugh. "I imagine he did. He always was a comedian." Shaking his head, Fael said, "I like my privacy, Dean, but make no mistake. Music is not my only talent, it's just the one I chose to pursue. I have other talents, abilities-all of us do-that Raphael will have no compunction about using for himself. I don't want that to happen. I don't want anything to do with the war Castiel and Raphael are fighting."

"Believe me, I understand how you feel, but-"

"None of my brothers and sisters know where I am." Fael interrupted him. "I'd like to leave it like that. If that means taking five women every so often, then that's what I'll do. In the grand scheme of things, though it's not an ideal situation, I don't think it matters very much."

Dean eyed him suspiciously. "You've been down here for how long?"

"Just over six thousand years."

"And in all that time, you haven't learned jack shit about human beings or about humanity." He curled his lip in disgust. "I take back what I said earlier. You're not as smart as I thought."

Leveling a look of sheer menacing power, Feal asked him, "And what lesson was I supposed to learn, Dean Winchester?"

"Every life, Fael, every single breath of every single living person matters. There is no 'greater good.' There is only here. Only now. Only this person. Because the 'greater good' is pointless if there aren't individuals to experience it. Your sacrifices are the total opposite of what you say you admire about humanity."

"What other option do I have, Dean?"

"Unbelievable." Dean wiped a hand over his face. "Here's a thought. You could just gank the bitch."

Fael laughed mirthlessly. "Kill Anumati."

Shrugging, as though it were no big deal, Dean said, "It's what I'd do."

"That's...that's not possible," Fael said, shaking his head.

Dean scoffed. "Fuck it's not. Get me back to my brother and Castiel, and we'll figure it out." Dean sniffed. "It's better than killing five innocent women to satisfy some pagan moon goddess. And I gotta say, I'm gettin' real sick and tired of those pagan gods dickin' around with humanity, like it's their own personal play toy."

Fael laughed. "Yours is a special turn of phrase, Dean."

"You like that?" Dean asked, pointing. "I got plenty more. Now, unless you're fond of killing people, we've got a goddess to catch, and as badass as I am, I can't do that by myself."

"You're saying you and your brother can kill Anumati?"

"You asking me if we can kill a pagan goddess of the moon?" Dean sighed. "And I thought you knew me. We've dispatched a few pagan gods in our time. And a few angels, too, if you must know."

"You've killed angels?"

"Zachariah, for one."

"You killed Zachariah?"

"Yeah. He, uh," Dean scratched his head, "wouldn't take no for an answer. But let's get back to this Anumati chick. If you can fill Sam in on her haunts and what not, he can do some research, find her weaknesses and we can fix your little problem. But before we do that, you have to let those women go."

Fael considered him for a few silent moments, then sat forward. "Okay. Let's go."

That was the only warning Dean got before Fael teleported them over to the place where he was keeping the five women.

When they appeared in the foyer of the house, Dean turned to Fael and said, "You know, Cas usually lets me get prepared before zapping me places." He bent over slightly and put his hand over his stomach. "I'm gonna regret this later, I can just feel it."

Fael chuckled. "Sorry."

"No, you're not, don't bother lying." He straightened back up and took a breath. "So, where is everybody?"

Fael pointed down the hall, "Let's just see," he said and headed toward one of the doorways. "This is the living room," he said, and they stepped into the room. One of the women sat on a sofa reading. She looked up from her book and let out a shriek that left Dean wincing. "Whoa, lady, chill," he said, holding his hands up to placate her. "You're gonna make my ears bleed."

At the sound of her scream, the other women came running into the living room.

"Sela? What's going on?" One of the women called out as she rounded the corner of the living room wall. Dean recognized her from the police report online.

"Chandra Massood?" he asked, stepping forward.

She rounded on him, eyes flashing fire. "Yes," she confirmed, her voice clipped tight with agitation. Then she saw Fael behind him. "You!" she exclaimed, and pointed at him. "Release us, immediately!"

Dean stepped between Chandra and Fael. "Hey, lady. Believe it or not, that's what we're here to do," he said, hands still up in the universal gesture of surrender. "I know you're pissed, but if you'll give me a minute to explain, I think we can end this whole situation painlessly."

"Really? Painlessly? You realize we've been trapped here for days, right?" This from a dark skinned woman in square black glasses.

"I know, believe me. That's why I'm here. My brother and I have been looking for all of you."

"This creep is your brother?" the one in glasses asked him, building up a head of steam that Dean could see he'd have to stop before the situation got too far out of hand.

"No," he said. "No, he kidnapped me, just like he did you. Just..." here he paused, and gave a tired sigh. "Just not for the same reasons." He gave her a friendly smile. "You must be Iahna?"

At the woman's nod, Dean said, "You and the other ladies here are the reason I'm here. It's my job, actually."

"Oh. It's your job to kidnap and hold women for ransom?" Sela asked from her spot on the sofa, her arms folded protectively over her chest.

"What?" Dean asked, confused. "No. No. I came here to help you guys."

"Ah. Well. You'll forgive our skepticism, seeing as you're arrived here with the asshole who took us captive," Chandra said.

"Okay, true. You got me there." Dean said. "But ah, okay. Maybe some introductions. My name's Dean Winchester, I'm not from around here. I've got this guy convinced to let you ladies go. That's why we're here."

Another one of the women walked up and slapped Fael right across the face. "I have a daughter, you jerk. Do you have any idea what she's been going through? What I've been going through, not seeing her?" Her voice broke on the last word, and Dean walked over to her and lifted his hand to rest it on her shoulder. She turned on him. "Don't touch me. I don't know you. What gives you the right to put your hands on me?"

Dean held his hands up again. "Sorry. I apologize." He sighed. "Look, ladies. All I want is to get each of you home. The sooner the better. The best way to do that is for you to trust me."

They looked ready to attack him for his audacity. "I know it's hard. I know you don't know me, but I really am here to help."

"Why are there no doors in this place?" Chandra asked.

Fael finally spoke up. "There are. You just...you can't see them."

"You didn't want us running away," a quiet voice spoke up from behind the other women.

Fael shook his head. "I couldn't afford to lose one of you, Diana."

She held her head up, defiant. "At least you remember our names."

"Your names are one of the reasons I chose you. All of you."

"We're not stupid. We figured that out when you brought the last one." Chandra said, derisive. "What, were you planning to sacrifice us?"

At his silence, she blanched. "You were."

A chorus of disbelief, fear and anger came from the others standing behind Chandra. "You were going to kill us?" "Sacrifice us? For what?" "Oh, my god, my daughter." "Oh, hell no!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Dean raised his voice to be heard over theirs. "There will be no sacrifices today," he turned and glared at Fael. "Or ever."

Fael looked over at each of the women. "Right," he said, nodding once.

Chandra, as the unofficial spokesperson for the group, narrowed her eyes suspiciously and turned to Dean. "You said to trust you. You getting us out of here will go a long way toward that."

"Right. Like I said, he's letting you go." He turned to Fael. "Show 'em the doors, Fael. Let 'em go. Better yet, just...I don't know what you call it...beam 'em home. Now."

Fael closed his eyes and took a breath.

"Wait." Dean stopped him. "Apologize first. And mean it."

Fael glared at him.

"Hey," Dean said, eyebrows high. "I don't give a rat's ass about your angelic pride or you thinking you're too good to apologizing for hurting these women. You kidnapped them, took them from their families and friends. The least you could do is say you're sorry for it."

"Fine." Fael turned to the women and addressed them individually, as Dean looked on, before he sent each one home to their families.

Once the women were gone Dean slapped him on the back. "Feel better?" he asked.

"I didn't feel badly before, Dean."

"Yes, you did," Dean said, grinning. "Now. Let's go kill a moon goddess."

Master Post | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5