Big Bang Fic: Oadriax (10/13)
Title: Oadriax (10/13)
Author: daksgirl
Artist: terrorinyertub
Fandom/Genre: Supernatural, au, sci fi, drama
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Side pairings: Sam/Gabriel, past Sam/Jess
Rating: NC-17 (violence, adult situations, language)
Word Count: 80,668
Warnings: Graphic violence and warfare, adult themes including sex, canon character deaths, demon xenophobia, swearing, gore (in a war situation), PTSD and an attempted non-con situation.
[Fic Masterpost]
[Art Masterpost]
The forest was alive, plants blooming in splashes of neon blue as Castiel and Dean passed by. Dean had asked Sam about it once, why certain plants lit up at night, and the giant dork had babbled about bioluminescent chlorophyll, mechanisms Dean had no hope (or desire) to understand.
Dean grinned, reaching out to slap at a flat fern. Color burst across the plant’s dark green pores, racing along the skin where his fingers had touched.
Castiel’s palm pressed more firmly against Dean’s, fingers just shy of intertwining.
“You are like a child,” the angel chuckled, pulling Dean further into the forest. “So curious.”
Dean laughed, and the plants around them seemed to quiver at the sound. “I remember you saying that to me when we first met. Not much has changed huh?”
The look Castiel gave him made his veins thrum.
“Much has changed,” Castiel said quietly, eyes bright in the neon blue light. “That much I know.”
The trees around them grew thicker, the vegetation harder to move through. Dean waded through the tall grass, the plants shimmering iridescent around his knees. He could feel a humming in the air, a faint buzz of electricity, and Dean felt his skin prickle at the sensation, the hairs along his arms stiffening.
“Cas?” he murmured uncertainly. The clay along his skin felt warm, crackling with an energy that hadn’t been there before. Dean was reminded of riding Chevy, the strange otherworldly sensation of connecting to her.
Castiel’s fingers squeezed his, the angel pushing aside a wall of veins. A flood of bright white light made Dean throw a hand up to his eyes, the humming rising in volume as he blinked the dark spots from his eyes.
It’s a tree, he realized as his eyes adjusted to the glow. Thin and willow like, it rose high above them, tendrils of shimmering leaves cascading down towards the ground. They were like glittering silver lines, and the vines swayed towards the two men as they drew close.
Castiel was smiling, relaxed and happy as the strange tendrils found his wings, brushing along his dark feathers.
“Qaadah,” the angel said softly, releasing Dean’s hand to touch the vines. “The tree of souls.”
Dean cautiously reached out to touch a strand with his finger, the tiny leaves along it shivering. Promptly they seemed to curve towards him, each individual bud trembling as the glowing vine molded around his finger. The hum in Dean’s ear turned into voices, laughter and singing that he somehow automatically knew came from the past. From angels that had been.
“Our history,” Castiel moved next to him, wings tucked primly against his back. He touched the vine reverently, the tree’s glow dancing through his fingertips. “It is all contained within trees like this. All those who have passed and all those who will be.”
Solemnly, he offered a different strand to Dean. Dean reached out to grasp it, the pads of his fingers warming as the leaves touched him, and he could suddenly hear his mother’s lilting laughter, Castiel’s rough tones. Dean drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide.
“My, mom?” he whispered, disbelieving.
Castiel nodded, brushing his dark hair away from his forehead. He smudged some of his blue face paint, and Dean tracked the movement.
“You are Ne’gassagen now, Dean.” Castiel smiled. “Our history is your history.”
The angel turned away then, wings unfolding to puff slightly. The tips of his long feathers trailed amongst the vines as he moved further within the tree, and the strands followed him, touching him as he passed. Dean followed numbly, heart pounding as voices of the past murmured around them.
“You may even choose a mate,” Castiel continued, one wing twitching. “There are many that would provide you an honorable equal.”
The voices swelled, clamoring over each other, and Dean felt the same odd awareness again. It curled in his mind, curious and bright. A presence that he knew wasn’t there to harm him, but to give him knowledge.
Castiel continued to walk, unaware of the stilted images and memories filtering through Dean’s mind.
“Rachael is a good singer,” Castiel said, and his wing clipped into a vein sharply. “Very beautiful.”
The voices murmured in discontent, and Dean could see a wisp of an angel, dark skin and huge brown eyes. She was pretty, of course, in the way only angels could be.
But her eyes weren’t quite right. Too brown, not the way Dean wanted them to be, clear and blue.
Dean shrugged, twirling a vine around one finger. “I don’t want a singer, Cas.”
The voices hummed happily, and Dean didn’t miss Castiel’s small pleased smile. The angel paused, wings spreading slightly. “Virgil is a good hunter.”
The voices sighed unhappily at that, and Dean caught a glimpse of a tall stoic man with dark hair, smiling and handsome.
But his wings weren’t right. Too light, dull and brown. They should be black, dark and shimmering.
Dean reached out, catching one of Castiel’s long feathers. The angel stilled, and Dean traced it gently.
“I don’t want a hunter,” Dean said lowly, and the voices shouted to one another triumphantly. “I don’t want just anyone, Cas.”
Castiel turned to face him, eyes searching and nervous.
“Then who is it you want, Dean?” he murmured, hands fidgeting with the beads along his leggings. The angel was unsure, desperate to say something, but too afraid. “You would make a fine mate. Many would be honored to call themselves your equal.”
The voices slipped away, retreating from Dean with hushed whispers, their work apparently done.
Getting set up by dead people, he chuckled to himself. Welcome to your life, Winchester.
Castiel wasn’t looking at him, staring towards the ground. Dean stepped closer, heart pounding a heady beat against his ribs.
“Many, huh?” Dean smiled cockily, though he felt anything but. “You happen to be one of them?”
This was crazy. What was he doing? This was Cas, his friend, his brother, his, his…
Cas.
Castiel slowly looked up at him, wings arching behind him. In the glow of the tree framing his feathers and hair, he looked, well, angelic.
“Yes,” Castiel whispered, and the tree veins all seemed to sway towards him as one. “I, I, Dean, I think I lo-”
Dean was up against him in two paces, grabbing the angel’s jaw firmly. Castiel fell silent, eyes wide as Dean rubbed his thumb along the rough stubble of the angel’s cheek. Nervous puffs of air hit Dean’s cheek, and he could feel the tell-tale trembling of Castiel’s hands where they clutched at Dean’s hips.
“Don’t say that,” Dean said lowly, voice shaking. “Don’t you dare say that unless you mean it, you son of a-”
Castiel knocked his hands away, and before Dean could really process what was happening, was kissing him.
Cas. Was kissing him.
For a moment, Dean froze in shock, feeling the angel’s dry lips slide across his, desperate and wanting. This, this wasn’t a dream. This was real. Real Cas was kissing him.
And it was awesome.
Dean parted his lips, flicking his tongue cautiously against Castiel’s closed ones, and the angel grunted in surprise, giving Dean the opportunity to slip inside.
Castiel tasted like Oadriax, alien and dangerous. He tasted like Earth, like the fields back in New Kansas. He tasted like Dean, and feelings, and home.
Castiel melted against Dean as the human threaded his fingers into the angel’s dark hair, tugging him closer. He was going to slide underneath Castiel’s skin, push himself into every space and curve of the angel’s body until there was nothing but them. There would be no angels, no demons, or humans. No hell, no heaven. Just the two of them.
Forever.
Castiel had listened to many of the tales the older females loved to tell one another when cooking.
He had listened to Gabriel’s proud boasts, and Balthazar’s rude tales.
He had seen courtship flights, and fights, and postures. He knew all there was to know about such things, but there was such a large difference between knowing and experiencing.
And what an experience it is.
“C’mon, Cas,” Dean’s voice rumbled against Castiel’s ear, low and rough, full of fire and smoke and sin. “Let me in.”
He hardly felt capable of movement, and Castiel jerked his wings, longing to comply. His feathers were damp with sweat and flaking dye, sliding against Dean’s bare chest where he pressed along Castiel’s back. Castiel’s felt boneless, his skin too hot and tight as Dean mouthed the back of his neck, teeth just shy of biting.
A knee nudging his bare thighs apart made Castiel shudder, hands holding him open and baring his body to the cool night air. Castiel arched his back, hips already shifting to accommodate the weight of Dean as he pressed the angel into the soft earth beneath them.
Castiel’s sweat-dampened hair stuck to his forehead as he panted into the moist air, face twisting with pleasure as Dean slid his tortuous way inside him again. Castiel had lost count of their couplings, so many, yet not enough, never enough. Blood boiled in his veins as he urged Dean on with undulations of his hips, small wounded grunts forced from his throat with each thrust.
Dean was gasping against the nape of Castiel’s neck, each hot gust of air in perfect time with the drive of his hips. But the human was tiring, just as Castiel was, Dean’s arms shaking as they wrapped around Castiel’s chest. His thrusts grew shallower, merely rocking deeply into Castiel as the angel gritted his teeth against the onslaught of sensation that raced along his skin, the fire that coiled low in his gut.
The Qaadah rose above them both, glittering leaves caressing their bare skin as they mated. As others had done before them.
Castiel dug his fingers into the dark dirt, seeking to anchor himself to the moment, the feeling. If he could only keep ahold of this memory, perhaps it would never end. Perhaps they could stay this way forever.
It was futile. Dean pulled the angel’s head back with one gentle hand, lips sliding slickly on the exposed column of Castiel’s throat as he thrust into the angel harder, pushing them both towards the edge.
Castiel could never escape Dean, never truly wanted to. Dean would only have to utter it, and Castiel would give him anything. He would give him the moon and stars if he could, Oadriax and Geiad herself, if the human only asked it of him.
He was utterly, and completely, lost. Had been the first time he had seen the human stumbling through the forest, helpless when he had placed his hands upon the human and given him life.
Completely fallen, when he had witnessed Dean’s dreams and heard his fears.
His body welcomed Dean’s touch, skin burning where Dean’s fingertips dug into his hips, where his lips mouthed along the line of his throat.
He would give anything to Dean. His body, his malprigzch, his life.
Pinned by Dean’s weight, Castiel’s wings still fluttered to the beat of Dean inside of him. The glow from the Qaadah framed Dean’s face as he pulled back to bite out a curse, and Castiel dropped his face back onto his braced forearms, fixing the image in his mind. Their union would be forever sealed into the Qaadah, to display to all, and Castiel felt a swell of pride.
Dean’s movements grew quicker, more desperate. Castiel’s tired arms gave out, but strong arms slid under him, lifting him up, as Dean’s hips cleaved him open from behind. Castiel’s wings fell slackly on either side of the human as Dean pulled the angel onto his lap, groaning as Castiel arched with pleasure.
Pinning one arm across the angel’s chest, Dean’s other hand grabbed blindly for Castiel’s wing, fingers tangling in the black feathers and yanking him towards a precipice. Castiel could see the fall, felt himself stumbling along its edge, and he opened his eyes, gazing up at the glowing tree around them.
“Dean,” his voice was strained, gasping and so unlike him. “Dean, I-”
“Yes,” Dean’s voice hissed in his ear, demanding and confident. The human’s fingers tugged hard as Dean pushed upwards with his hips, and Castiel was gone. He fell, unraveling as he spiraled into ecstasy. Enochian tumbled from his lips, punched from his lungs with each push of Dean against him.
He promised the human everything, a life, a family. He confessed his love with sharp syllables and guttural vowels.
Dean did not understand, but he would in time.
They were mated. They had an eternity together.
Castiel opened his glazed eyes to look upwards. Dean’s head was thrown back, his throat quivering with pleasure as he gasped his release into the air, and for a brief moment, Castiel thought he could see the shadows of Dean’s wings.
The screams seemed muted, less horrific as Dean ran through the smoke, gun creaking in his hands. He felt light, hardly caring when a demon tried to lash out at him, just destroying the creature with a smile. He didn’t care about this nightmare anymore.
Because he wasn’t facing it alone.
“Should’ve told me you were dropping by,” Dean said flippantly, hoisting his gun across one shoulder. “I would’ve cleaned the place up a little.”
Castiel landed amidst the carnage, but the angel’s gaze was serious. Huh, that made a weird change from their usual make out dream sessions.
“You showed me your father, once,” Castiel said quietly. “In light of, certain events, I would like to show you something as well.”
Dean felt a slight flare of curiosity. As far as dreams went, even with his weird ones, this was out of the ordinary.
“I, uh,” Dean came to a stop, boots splashing in the muck. Well what the hell, he had just had sex with real Cas, what harm would humoring dream Cas do?
“Okay.” Dean tilted his helmet back with a wink. “Alright, Cas. What did you have in mind?”
With a smile that made Dean’s heart lurch, Castiel reached out to press two fingers against Dean’s sweaty forehead. His stomach staggered sideways, the world spinning in a mess of colors as he seemed to hurtle through time and space.
But just as quickly, it was over.
Dean blinked in the bright sunlight, recognizing the green clearing that stretched around him. It was the place Cas had once dragged him to practice archery, though the vegetation was smaller, more cared for.
A woman sat amongst the flowers, her long blonde hair glinting in the sun. She wore a simple brown strap top and khaki’s, and she sat cross-legged, peering up at the sky, shielding her eyes with one hand.
Mary.
Dean’s lungs felt ripped from his chest, his heart barely beating. It had been so long he had forgotten what she had looked like, the color of her skin, the shape of her face. Her golden hair tumbled down her bare shoulders, one cheek smudged with mud. She looked a part of the forest, a siren of Oadriax, and Dean took a step forward, longing to call out to her.
A young angel was with her, a boy probably in his teens. He lay on his back, dark wings spread beneath him as he rested his head in Mary’s lap. Mary ran her fingers through his dark hair as they both gazed up towards the sky, speaking quietly.
“They’re out there, Castiel,” she spoke, and Dean jerked at her voice. “My sons.”
Cas.
Of course, Dean could see his eyes now, the color of his wings. Cas was smaller here, not as defined and his face rounder, but it was him.
Mary looked down at young-Cas with a smile. “I bet Sam’s probably around your age by now. In human years that is.”
Dean circled the two, hands shaking. They couldn’t see him, he knew that. This was just a dream, a glimpse into something that wasn’t real.
Cas craned his face to look up at Mary. “Do you miss them?”
Mary exhaled shakily, fingers still stroking through Cas’s hair. Much as she had once done to Dean, so many years ago. “Yes. Very much.”
Cas seemed to mull that over, frowning slightly. It was so very Cas that Dean almost laughed. “Why did you leave if you miss them so much?”
Mary paused at the question, fingers stilling and Dean held his breath, not wanting to miss a second.
“It, it seemed like the right thing to do at the time,” Mary said slowly. She dropped her eyes back down to Castiel, and suddenly smiled, fingers darting to tickle the angel. “And I found you!”
Cas laughed loudly, squirming as his pinned wings flapped uselessly. The feathers looked softer, tufts of baby down still clinging to the emerging sleek black pin feathers.
“I’m glad you’re here,” the young angel said happily, and Dean’s chest constricted. “Do you, do you think I’ll meet them some day?”
Mary smiled, fingers resuming their gentle exploration of Cas’s scalp. “Maybe. One day, perhaps.”
“Mary!”
A strange voice called out, and Cas jerked, scrambling out of Mary’s lap. His wings jerked self-consciously as a male angel materialized out of the trees, striding towards the two with assured steps.
Dean didn’t recognize him. He was powerfully built like Michael, with a strong jaw and piercing blue eyes. His golden brown hair reminded Dean of Gabriel, his easy smile reminiscent of Balthazar. His wings were a glorious white, large and well groomed, and they flexed slightly as the angel halted in front of the two in the clearing.
“Father,” Cas cleared his throat, wringing his hands. “I wasn’t gone for long, I just. Mary was telling me-”
The male angel smiled, one pristine wing butting the youngster under the chin. “Yet another fledgling I have lost to your charms, Mary?”
Dean’s mother laughed, and Dean scrambled to remember the sound, to file it away in memory. “Zachariel, I’m sorry to keep your son. I always seem to get a bit lost in my stories.”
Cas’s father chuckled. “As always. Castiel.”
Young Cas straightened, wings flared. His father smiled at him indulgently, ruffling his hair with a broad hand. “Seek out Gabriel, my son. I believe he said something about ‘getting back at Balthazar’, and he needed assistance.”
Obediently, Cas nodded and hurried away. To the two adults, it looked as if he had left, but Dean could see the young angel hang back, darting behind a bush.
Trust Cas to not do what he was told.
Mary rose, dusting her legs down. She smiled, and Dean saw the sparkle in her eyes. There had been a time she had looked at John like that. At Dean.
“To what do I owe the honor, Zachariel?”
The angel paused in front of her, crossing his arms seriously.
“My older sons have warned me of you for years, Dr. Campbell. Lucifer in particular seems to think you are a, bad influence.” There was a smile playing around the angel’s lips, a sense of humor despite his pretend sternness.
Marry huffed, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been teaching Lucifer since he was a little pudgy thing with stubby wings. If he spent more time studying during my classes instead of coming up with wild stories, then he might actually be as good as Michael at English. Or, Geiad forbid, Gabriel.”
Zachariel chuckled, shaking his head. He reached out to take one of Mary’s hands in his, and Dean bristled.
“Lucifer is much like his mother, Geiad keep her soul safe,” he murmured. “No Mary, I needed to speak to you alone. I have heard some, troubling news.”
Mary looked up at him at that, squeezing the angels hand reassuringly. “I’ve heard the news at the base. But the war on Hel is over. I hardly think we’re in any danger here-”
Zachariel shook his head impatiently. “That is not what I meant. You know of whom I speak.”
Mary sighed, pulling away from the angel. “Azazel. You’re still worried about him?”
“Not about him,” Zachariel took a step forward, and his wings shifted uneasily. “I have seen the way he looks at you Mary. There is evil in him, and I fear for you.”
“I can take care of myself,” she ground stubbornly, and Dean managed a smile. That was the mother he remembered.
Zachariel seemed less amused. “Of that, I do not doubt. But he is not like us, Mary. I sense,” the angel frowned unhappily. “I sense a great deal of suffering and hatred within him, and it is tied to you. I do not want to see you hurt.”
Mary smiled, her eyes soft and understanding. “I know,” she murmured, stepping closer. “He scares me. I know he monitors everything I do.”
She dropped her arms helplessly, and Dean caught the pained look in her eyes. “I haven’t dared call home, in case that yellow bastard is listening in. Even when I found out John-”
She trailed off. Clearing her throat, she shook her head. “But there’s not a whole lot I can do. I just try and stay out of his way.”
Mary suddenly shimmered, the clearing dissolving as Dean looked around wildly.
No! He, he had to see more, had to find out what had happened.
But the dream was dissolving, colors swirling into grey as Dean was yanked sideways again. He could still see young Cas through the chaos, just visible through the trees.
The angel had been hiding in the bush eavesdropping, but he had been discovered. A younger looking Balthazar had erupted from the foliage, dragging his brother away from his hiding place.
As Mary and Zachariel faded from view, Dean suddenly understood what was happening, why this seemed so real and odd. It wasn’t a dream he had been watching.
It was a memory.
Everything slipped away, and Dean was cast into darkness.
When he came to, crouched low and lungs heaving, Dean recognized the pier from the first dream Castiel had taken him to. A younger version of Dean and Sam still sat at the end of the wooden pier, fishing for eternity in the crystal clear water.
Castiel materialized beside him, the right Castiel this time, with stubble and grave eyes.
“She was the closest thing to a mother I had ever known,” the angel admitted. “That, that was the last time I saw her.”
Dean didn’t even question what was happening, how the angel seemed so self-aware in what should be a dream. He got to his feet, stomach churning. “What happened, Cas? How did she die?”
Castiel shrugged unhappily, looking out towards the young boys at the end of the pier. “I wish I could give you that knowledge, Dean. I merely know that she was working in one the labs and there was a fire.”
His wings puffed sadly. “My father tried to save her. He, perished as well.”
Dean remembered the male angel, Zachariel. He felt a surge of gratitude towards the angel he had never known, gratitude that at least, Mary hadn’t died alone.
He managed a weak smile, bracing himself against one of the scratchy wooden poles of the pier. “Mom always used to say angels were watching over us. I guess she was right huh?”
Castiel looked towards him. “I suppose she was. She was a wonderful woman, Dean. I miss her greatly.”
Dean glanced away. All those years of wondering why his mother had left, and all that time she had found another family. Another son.
The angel took a step forward, reaching out to take Dean’s hand in his. “I wanted you to see her again, if only for a minute. That is my gift to you, as small as it is.”
Dean stared down at their clasped hands. It had hurt, to see her. To see her so happy without them. Without Dean.
Castiel was looking at him anxiously.
Dean couldn’t hate him. Couldn’t hate Mary, as much as he wanted to. Dean had fallen for the same things on Oadriax his mother had, the same angels and life. Earth could never truly compare to it.
Dean couldn't blame her for leaving. Not when this was out there waiting for her. He was just grateful he had found the same happiness she had.
Dean pulled Castiel close, dragging the angel into a deep kiss that he hoped got his true feelings across.
Thank you. I’m sorry.
When he pulled away, Castiel’s eyes were glazed, lips swollen. Dean touched his cheek.
“You’re really here aren’t you?” he asked quietly. “This isn’t just a weird dream. You’re really here. Have been all along.”
Castiel avoided his eyes. “It is a talent few of us have. We call it maninsi. Mind walking. It is, frightening, to my siblings. They do not understand it.”
Dean snorted. “I don’t think I really do either.”
Castiel moved closer, and Dean opened his arms automatically. The angel tucked his face into the safety of Dean’s neck, wings folding around them.
“When I saved your life, I created a bond,” Castiel murmured against Dean’s throat, hand sliding to Dean’s shoulder. The mark was fading, more and more each day as a different bond was forged between them. “It was unintentional but, I do not regret it.”
Dean chuckled, cheek resting against the angel’s wild hair. “So all this time we were making out and shit in my dreams, then dancing around each other during the day…”
Castiel stiffened, expecting anger. Maybe Dean should be angry, but he couldn’t find it within himself. Instead he only felt relief. Relief that Cas had really seen all the skeletons in Dean’s closet, and hadn’t cared.
Dean laughed, squeezing Castiel tighter. “We could have been having awesome alien sex for weeks, Cas!”
“My apologies,” Castiel grinned against his collarbone. “I suppose we will have much to catch up on.”
Dean nodded resolutely, giving the angel’s wings a playful smack. “You bet your ass, angel boy. I am gonna, -mmph!”
Castiel cut him off with a kiss, and Dean arched an eyebrow, pulling away slightly. “So that’s how it’s going to be? You just kiss me whenever you want me to shut up?”
Castiel smiled at him, bright and genuine. “I will kiss you every moment I can, Dean Winchester.”
Dean spluttered, embarrassed, and the angel pressed a chaste kiss against Dean’s cheek.
“As they say on Earth,” Castiel smirked. “Deal with it.”
Dean’s laughter seemed as part of the sunny lake as the boys at the pier, the man’s happiness a tangible weight in the air as Castiel tried to kiss the life out of him.
Dean jerked awake, the pier dissolving before him as the ground shuddered beneath his cheek. A deep metallic whine whumped through the air above them, and with a bitten off curse Dean scrambled to all fours. Above him, a shadow blotted out the morning sun, hanging heavy and ugly in the blue sky.
Castiel was already awake, dragging on his leggings as he stared up at the sky with horror, the blue paint smudged across his cheeks from Dean’s lips. The angel’s wings were a mess of white powder, from Dean’s ceremony paint.
“Dean, the sky,” Castiel gasped. “It’s, it’s monstrous.”
Dean grabbed his jeans, hopping into them awkwardly. He recognized the heavy craft rolling by overhead, the logo that caught the sun along the hull.
A Roman Enterprises B-class warbird. She squatted in the sky, a mess of ugly dull metal. Birds went scattering from the canopy as she flew overhead, and Dean recognized the swell of her cargo hold, knew exactly what type of ship she was.
A destroyer. Her cargo could fit over twenty explosive missiles. Just a few could level a city.
Dean yanked his jeans on all the way, stumbling amongst the now silent tendrils of the tree.
“That’s a warbird Cas!” he shouted, grabbing his boots. “She has enough fire power to take out cities, let alone a forest!”
The angel got to his feet, wings jerking worriedly as he stared up at the dark sky. “It is not alone.”
Other shapes glinted in the sun, droning loudly behind and alongside the hulking warbird. Helicrafts by the look of them, a whole battalion of ill intent.
But why were they here? Dean thought wildly, jamming his feet into his boots. He still had another month before his time was up, Crowley had assured him of that, and the red eyed demon was one of the few who could authorize the crafts to fly. Him and-
Dean froze. Of course.
“Azazel,” Dean spat, glaring venomously at the huge craft as she moved by. “That slimy bastard!”
Castiel eyed the sky worriedly. “Dean, they’re heading for the home tree. They’re, Geiad help us, they’re heading for the home tree!”
The angel took off, shoving the veins aside as he ran into the forest. Dean swore, taking off after him and struggling to keep up. The craft were moving slow overhead, and Dean raced behind Castiel’s disappearing shape in an attempt to stay ahead of them. Leaves slapped against their arms, flowers crushed beneath their pounding feet.
The buzz of the helicraft had roused the angels sleeping around the home tree, all sluggish and hung-over from the party the night before. As Dean and Castiel cleared the forest, Dean spotted Sam in the stirring crowd, looking around in confusion as Gabriel uncurled from his side.
Castiel ran forward, arms waving.
“Michael!” he shouted. “Michael there-”
His shout was drowned out by the whirring of the warbird as she swung into view overhead, and the angels shrieked , most scrambling towards the safety of the home tree. Dean was swept up in the panic, losing sight of Castiel until the angel grabbed his arm, tugging him aside with him.
“Dean why are they here?” Castiel was as scared as the rest of them, and Dean could only shake his head dumbly as the angel pulled him towards the safety of the tree.
“I, I don’t know, Cas!”
All the angels pressed into the cavity of the tree, shouting and crying out in alarm. Sam pushed his way through the crowd, squeezing in beside Dean.
“What the hell is going on, Dean?” his brother asked, Bobby stumbling behind. “What the hell are our craft doing here?”
Bobby glanced out towards the foreboding sky.
“This can’t mean nothin’ good,” the scientist muttered worriedly, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. “Crowley would’ve never authorized this, it’s gotta be Az-”
“Silence! Brothers and sisters, please!”
Michael’s voice boomed out, even over the whirring outside, and the angels fell quiet, turning towards their leader desperately.
“The humans!” one cried out. “They’ve come to kill us!”
“Hush,” Raphael growled, alighting beside her mate along the stairs. “Such nonsense. The humans mean us no ill will.”
Lucifer struggled to the head of the crowd, glaring up at Michael with contempt. “Do you see now brother? The humans have signaled their machines to destroy us!”
He turned to point accusingly towards Dean, eyes glittering with malice. “They were sent as spies, to destroy and corrupt us from within!”
Several angels cried out in agreement, and Dean felt a flare of panic as he was jostled. It was Castiel who put an end to it, snapping his wings out and pushing his brethren away from the humans.
“Silence!” he roared, and the angels around him stared. “I do not believe that, and you do not either!”
Lucifer sneered over at him, shoving several angels away with his wings. “What does the abomination know? Look at you Castiel, covered in filth. You took the human to the Qaadah! You are as much as traitor as he is!”
Curious eyes all turned towards them, and Dean cringed, aware of what he and Castiel must look; Dean’s paint smudged all down the angel’s wings, Castiel’s blue face paint smudged across Dean’s throat and chest.
He might as well wear a glaring sign stating: Totally banged your brother. Sorry.
Uriel looked furious, wings shaking as he shoved through the crowd. Castiel didn’t back down, tilting his chin upwards furiously as he stared Lucifer down.
“I have nothing to say to you,” he ground. “My life is my own. Dean is a Ne’gassagen. He would not harm us.”
“Lies!” Lucifer spat, wings arching. Dean’s stomach dropped as the blonde stared right at him, self-assured and sneering.
“He is no warrior, Castiel. He is a marine. A brainless soldier who receives orders from a demon!”
There were angry murmurs then. There was no love lost between the angels and the few demons they had encountered.
Lucifer smiled cruelly. “He follows orders, Castiel. And his orders were to infiltrate our home and destroy us!”
The angry muttering grew louder. Castiel’s wings twitched, but he stayed where he was. “I do not care about your hatred for humans, Lucifer!” he shouted back. “Dean is one of us, he would not destroy us!”
“Oh is that so, little brother?” Lucifer laughed. “If you’re so sure, ask him! Ask him what the demon has asked him to do!”
“I do not need to!” Castiel fired back, and Dean felt a surge of pride. “I trust Dean.”
Lucifer snorted. “As our Father trusted Mary?”
There was a ripple of gasps all around them, and Dean heard Bobby mutter a low curse. Lucifer advanced on Castiel, triumphant.
“Ask him, Castiel. Ask him if he follows orders from the very same demon who helped kill our father.”
There was an outcry now, angels speaking out together, a chorus of mistrust and unease. Castiel was shaking, but stayed where he was as Lucifer advanced.
“You know nothing,” Castiel ground, eyes furious. “Father died saving Mary from a fire. It was honorable and-”
Lucifer laughed, a vicious and hateful sound. “Honorable? Our father was murdered and you are following him down the same path!”
The elder baltoh leaned forward, into Castiel’s face, noses almost brushing. Castiel froze, his wings stock still.
“Your, human, was ordered to infiltrate us to gain our trust,” Lucifer said lowly. “Then he would make us move, so the humans could harvest their precious mineral. Ask him, Castiel. Prove me wrong.”
Angry shouts rang out, angels arguing with one another. Dean was frozen to the spot as Castiel slowly turned, his eyes devastated as he searched Dean’s face.
“Dean,” the angel’s voice trembled and Dean felt like curling up in a ball and dying. “Dean, tell me this isn’t true.”
“I, I,” Words deserted him. Azazel’s laughing eyes danced in front of Dean’s own, triumphant and cruel.
“Dean!” Castiel’s voice was anguished, and the angel reached forward to grab his shoulders. “Tell me it isn’t true!”
His hesitation was all the confirmation Lucifer needed. The angel turned away with a loud cry, arms thrown high.
“They’ll kill us all!” Lucifer shouted, fanning the flames of panic that spread through the crowd. “We have to run, escape while we can!”
“Wait!” Sam shouted over the din as Dean stood there dumbly, staring at Castiel. “There’s been some mistake. Just, just let us talk to them-”
“Enough!” Michael bellowed, wings beating the air in an attempt to gain order. “If this is true, we must move the clan, move them tow-”
There was a sudden crackle of static, and a group of young angels began crying as a loud voice cracked over an intercom from above.
“Attention all angels. Clear the vicinity. This tree has been claimed by the Roman Enterprise and will be demolished. I repeat, clear the vicinity.”
Bobby looked furious, jaw clenched and eyes wild.
“I’m gonna kill him,” he growled. “That back stabbin’, yellow eyed son of a bitch, I’m gonna kill-”
Something metallic clinked just outside the tree and Sam craned his head over the crowd to see, gently pushing several angels out of the way. His eyes suddenly widened.
“Smoke bombs!” he yelled, already starting to push the angels around him towards the exit. “Everybody out, smoke bo-”
Azazel blew on his steaming mug of coffee, grinning down at the scene below. The smoke bombs had the desired effect, sending the angels spilling out onto the grass around their precious home tree, coughing.
So pathetic. Little savages who clung to an ancient way of life that had no place in the new world. His eyes trailed across the flood of angels that poured from the tree, sharp eyes searching for one figure in particular.
“Say it again,” he ordered, and the pilot nodded, repeating the warning over the intercom. Azazel could see Bobby Singer waving up at him, face twisted and mouth wide. Shouting no doubt. The man was always shouting.
Azazel took another sip of his coffee, relishing the hot burn against his tongue. He thought about radioing back to base to see how Alistair was doing, but found he couldn’t care less. Whether the black eye managed to do his part of the plan or not, was of little consequence.
Azazel had bigger fish to fry.
“Well,” he leant forward to smile down at the confused creatures below. “I guess they don’t want to move.”
The black eyed pilot twisted in his harness. “Sir?”
“Fire, Captain,” the black eye hesitated, and Azazel’s eyes flashed. “I gave you an order. Fire.”
Slowly, the demon nodded. “Yes, sir. Ready all units, commencing incineration sequence in five…four…”
Azazel leant back, smiling.
Winchester wouldn’t know what hit him. Not until Azazel wanted him to. Hopefully that little shit Lucifer had done his part, and by the looks of the panicked crowd below, he had.
Awesome.
Azazel chuckled, clapping a hand to the wincing pilot’s shoulder.
“Let’s get this party started!”
For a stupid moment, Dean thought maybe he was dreaming. Maybe this was just another fucked up dream of his that he’d wake up from any minute, and laugh about with Cas later.
The first missiles tore into the main tree trunk, chunks of bark splintering into lethal shards. A blast of heat rolled over them all, the initial shockwave flinging them backwards. Fledglings were screaming. Adults shouted as black smoke spewed from the tree, flames licking along the ancient bark.
Angels in the nests above perished instantly, though some managed to escape the fires and take to the skies before the second round of missiles tore into the tree. The earth rumbled with shock, the home tree creaking and crackling as fire engulfed it whole. A slew of flame rained down from above, setting the Levithmong field ablaze. The creatures stampeded around in a blind panic, several screaming in agony as flames stripped the flesh from their bones.
It was chaos, and Dean stood in the middle of it dumbly, frozen to the spot as horror raged around him.
A young female bumped into him, and Dean stumbled, turning his shocked gaze up at the tree as it smoldered with orange flames. He could feel the heat, searing against his skin, and for a moment all he could see was red dirt and blood.
Sam suddenly shoved him hard, forcing Dean to start running.
“Run Dean!” Sam shouted at him, ash streaked across his face. “It’s going to collapse! For God’s sake, run!”
Bobby hung on grimly to Dean’s arms as they struggled to get through the smoke. It poured from the tree in a thick cloud, smothering and dark. Angels cried out all around them, disorientated and frightened, and Dean struggled briefly, trying to head back.
“I can’t, Cas-”
Sam shoved him forward. “He’ll be fine, Dean. Just keep moving!”
They all stumbled as the ground shook beneath them. The home tree groaned with a tangible pain, the wood around its base snapping. The sound was deafening, and leaves coupled with splinters of wood rained down on them, stinging as badly as the smoke.
Then, with a splitting crack, the tree began to move.
The huge trunk blotted out the sun as it fell, crashing down through the billows of smoke with a grinding shriek as if, the tree itself was crying out in pain. Sam forced Dean and Bobby down onto their bellies, taking cover in the forest where some of the smaller trees might shelter them.
Dean ducked his head low, side jammed up against Sam. Bobby was shouting, cursing as the tree came down in a shower of flames right above them. Dean braced himself for it, for the horrible death that surely had to follow, sparing a hopeful thought that Cas was safe somewhere.
But the forest stood strong, and the massive home tree finally ground to a halt above them, shifting into silence as its bark snapped and crackled where it lay supported by the smaller trees.
Everything fell quiet.
Dean slowly raised his head, shooting a terrified look towards Sam. His brother was okay, wincing as he uncurled from his crouched position. Bobby was panting, tears tracking through the soot on his cheeks as he looked up at the dead tree with horror.
Then the screams began.
“Cas! Cas!”
Castiel could hear Dean’s shouts, but did he not return them.
His heart felt like it was cracking in two, shattering into a million tiny shards that stabbed him, burrowing their sharp corners into his ribs. His shaking fingers traced the skin beneath his hands, as angels ran past him.
Screaming, always screaming.
Smoke made the air unbearable, his lungs spasming in his chest, but Castiel remained where he was, head downcast and tears digging tracks through the soot coating his face. Ash rained down from the sky, and Castiel’s filthy wings struggled to protect the slumped figure in front of him, to protect a brother who had always protected him.
Balthazar lay still, his face slack and relaxed as Castiel touched him, fingers still searching for a pulse despite finding none already.
His brother had pushed him out of the way as the home tree had come crashing down, rolling Castiel into a small groove in the earth where a log had lain. The action had saved Castiel’s life, but it had cost Balthazar his own.
He was pinned, lower body hidden by a heavy branch. Balthazar’s wings were spread serenely beneath him, and Castiel smoothed the feathers down with shaking fingers.
“Noasmi lit Geiad, esiasch,” he whispered. “Olani hoath ol.”
(Be with God, brother. I love you.)
Boots were moving towards him, Dean’s tones growing more panicked.
“Cas! Castiel! Where are- Cas!”
Castiel squeezed his eyes shut against the wave of grief that threatened to overwhelm him as Dean emerged from the smoke. He hated the joy he felt that Dean was safe, hated what the human had done to him so callously.
“Get back,” he growled, voice hoarse from the smoke in the air. “Get back!”
Dean paused, seeing Balthazar. His face fell, and Castiel longed to run to him, longed to wrap himself in the arms he had only just begun to know.
The anger in him grew.
Dean started forward again, hands spread and pleading. “Cas, please, let me-”
“Stay away from me!” Castiel’s voice cracked, wings trembling. “This, this is your fault! You, you did this!”
Dean looked devastated, and Castiel bowed his head in anguish.
“Cas, please,” Dean’s voice was pained, begging, but Castiel steeled himself, wings flaring aggressively.
“Leave!” he shouted, tears in his eyes. “Leave, Dean! I wish I had never met you.”
Castiel’s grief was too consuming, his anger blinding. His voice spoke without his permission, and he nearly choked on his words.
“I wish, I wish I had never saved you,” he muttered bitterly, vision blurring. “I should have let you die.”
He could sense the effect on Dean, the human recoiling as if Castiel had dealt him a physical blow. He might as well have, the pain that lanced through Castiel’s chest was real enough.
Dean swallowed heavily, but he tried again, taking a step forward. “Cas, just let me help, I, I can explain-”
Castiel raised his head, numbing his heart against the broken look Dean gave him. “You’ve done enough,” Castiel spat bitterly. “Leave!”
“Dean!” Sam appeared, grabbing his brother and pulling him away. “Dean, we gotta go! Azazel is going to deploy ground troops!”
At Dean’s lack of response, Sam shook him. “Dean we have to go.”
Dean pushed him away, still looking at Castiel.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sam,” he said gruffly, and Castiel felt his heart break all over again. “We, we have to help…”
The wounded sound that clawed its way from Castiel’s throat was one he had never heard before.
“Leave!” he screamed, and Sam stumbled back a pace, horrified as he noticed Castiel. “I never want to see you again! Dean, leave!”
Castiel refused to face the Winchesters any longer. With a moan, he bowed his torso low over Balathazar’s body, bitten off wails of grief torn from his throat as he rocked the brother he had loved so dearly. He didn’t watch Dean leave, forcibly dragged by Sam, the angel too consumed with the death and destruction of his home that now lay in ruins around him.
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Author: daksgirl
Artist: terrorinyertub
Fandom/Genre: Supernatural, au, sci fi, drama
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Side pairings: Sam/Gabriel, past Sam/Jess
Rating: NC-17 (violence, adult situations, language)
Word Count: 80,668
Warnings: Graphic violence and warfare, adult themes including sex, canon character deaths, demon xenophobia, swearing, gore (in a war situation), PTSD and an attempted non-con situation.
[Fic Masterpost]
[Art Masterpost]
The forest was alive, plants blooming in splashes of neon blue as Castiel and Dean passed by. Dean had asked Sam about it once, why certain plants lit up at night, and the giant dork had babbled about bioluminescent chlorophyll, mechanisms Dean had no hope (or desire) to understand.
Dean grinned, reaching out to slap at a flat fern. Color burst across the plant’s dark green pores, racing along the skin where his fingers had touched.
Castiel’s palm pressed more firmly against Dean’s, fingers just shy of intertwining.
“You are like a child,” the angel chuckled, pulling Dean further into the forest. “So curious.”
Dean laughed, and the plants around them seemed to quiver at the sound. “I remember you saying that to me when we first met. Not much has changed huh?”
The look Castiel gave him made his veins thrum.
“Much has changed,” Castiel said quietly, eyes bright in the neon blue light. “That much I know.”
The trees around them grew thicker, the vegetation harder to move through. Dean waded through the tall grass, the plants shimmering iridescent around his knees. He could feel a humming in the air, a faint buzz of electricity, and Dean felt his skin prickle at the sensation, the hairs along his arms stiffening.
“Cas?” he murmured uncertainly. The clay along his skin felt warm, crackling with an energy that hadn’t been there before. Dean was reminded of riding Chevy, the strange otherworldly sensation of connecting to her.
Castiel’s fingers squeezed his, the angel pushing aside a wall of veins. A flood of bright white light made Dean throw a hand up to his eyes, the humming rising in volume as he blinked the dark spots from his eyes.
It’s a tree, he realized as his eyes adjusted to the glow. Thin and willow like, it rose high above them, tendrils of shimmering leaves cascading down towards the ground. They were like glittering silver lines, and the vines swayed towards the two men as they drew close.
Castiel was smiling, relaxed and happy as the strange tendrils found his wings, brushing along his dark feathers.
“Qaadah,” the angel said softly, releasing Dean’s hand to touch the vines. “The tree of souls.”
Dean cautiously reached out to touch a strand with his finger, the tiny leaves along it shivering. Promptly they seemed to curve towards him, each individual bud trembling as the glowing vine molded around his finger. The hum in Dean’s ear turned into voices, laughter and singing that he somehow automatically knew came from the past. From angels that had been.
“Our history,” Castiel moved next to him, wings tucked primly against his back. He touched the vine reverently, the tree’s glow dancing through his fingertips. “It is all contained within trees like this. All those who have passed and all those who will be.”
Solemnly, he offered a different strand to Dean. Dean reached out to grasp it, the pads of his fingers warming as the leaves touched him, and he could suddenly hear his mother’s lilting laughter, Castiel’s rough tones. Dean drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide.
“My, mom?” he whispered, disbelieving.
Castiel nodded, brushing his dark hair away from his forehead. He smudged some of his blue face paint, and Dean tracked the movement.
“You are Ne’gassagen now, Dean.” Castiel smiled. “Our history is your history.”
The angel turned away then, wings unfolding to puff slightly. The tips of his long feathers trailed amongst the vines as he moved further within the tree, and the strands followed him, touching him as he passed. Dean followed numbly, heart pounding as voices of the past murmured around them.
“You may even choose a mate,” Castiel continued, one wing twitching. “There are many that would provide you an honorable equal.”
The voices swelled, clamoring over each other, and Dean felt the same odd awareness again. It curled in his mind, curious and bright. A presence that he knew wasn’t there to harm him, but to give him knowledge.
Castiel continued to walk, unaware of the stilted images and memories filtering through Dean’s mind.
“Rachael is a good singer,” Castiel said, and his wing clipped into a vein sharply. “Very beautiful.”
The voices murmured in discontent, and Dean could see a wisp of an angel, dark skin and huge brown eyes. She was pretty, of course, in the way only angels could be.
But her eyes weren’t quite right. Too brown, not the way Dean wanted them to be, clear and blue.
Dean shrugged, twirling a vine around one finger. “I don’t want a singer, Cas.”
The voices hummed happily, and Dean didn’t miss Castiel’s small pleased smile. The angel paused, wings spreading slightly. “Virgil is a good hunter.”
The voices sighed unhappily at that, and Dean caught a glimpse of a tall stoic man with dark hair, smiling and handsome.
But his wings weren’t right. Too light, dull and brown. They should be black, dark and shimmering.
Dean reached out, catching one of Castiel’s long feathers. The angel stilled, and Dean traced it gently.
“I don’t want a hunter,” Dean said lowly, and the voices shouted to one another triumphantly. “I don’t want just anyone, Cas.”
Castiel turned to face him, eyes searching and nervous.
“Then who is it you want, Dean?” he murmured, hands fidgeting with the beads along his leggings. The angel was unsure, desperate to say something, but too afraid. “You would make a fine mate. Many would be honored to call themselves your equal.”
The voices slipped away, retreating from Dean with hushed whispers, their work apparently done.
Getting set up by dead people, he chuckled to himself. Welcome to your life, Winchester.
Castiel wasn’t looking at him, staring towards the ground. Dean stepped closer, heart pounding a heady beat against his ribs.
“Many, huh?” Dean smiled cockily, though he felt anything but. “You happen to be one of them?”
This was crazy. What was he doing? This was Cas, his friend, his brother, his, his…
Cas.
Castiel slowly looked up at him, wings arching behind him. In the glow of the tree framing his feathers and hair, he looked, well, angelic.
“Yes,” Castiel whispered, and the tree veins all seemed to sway towards him as one. “I, I, Dean, I think I lo-”
Dean was up against him in two paces, grabbing the angel’s jaw firmly. Castiel fell silent, eyes wide as Dean rubbed his thumb along the rough stubble of the angel’s cheek. Nervous puffs of air hit Dean’s cheek, and he could feel the tell-tale trembling of Castiel’s hands where they clutched at Dean’s hips.
“Don’t say that,” Dean said lowly, voice shaking. “Don’t you dare say that unless you mean it, you son of a-”
Castiel knocked his hands away, and before Dean could really process what was happening, was kissing him.
Cas. Was kissing him.
For a moment, Dean froze in shock, feeling the angel’s dry lips slide across his, desperate and wanting. This, this wasn’t a dream. This was real. Real Cas was kissing him.
And it was awesome.
Dean parted his lips, flicking his tongue cautiously against Castiel’s closed ones, and the angel grunted in surprise, giving Dean the opportunity to slip inside.
Castiel tasted like Oadriax, alien and dangerous. He tasted like Earth, like the fields back in New Kansas. He tasted like Dean, and feelings, and home.
Castiel melted against Dean as the human threaded his fingers into the angel’s dark hair, tugging him closer. He was going to slide underneath Castiel’s skin, push himself into every space and curve of the angel’s body until there was nothing but them. There would be no angels, no demons, or humans. No hell, no heaven. Just the two of them.
Forever.
Castiel had listened to many of the tales the older females loved to tell one another when cooking.
He had listened to Gabriel’s proud boasts, and Balthazar’s rude tales.
He had seen courtship flights, and fights, and postures. He knew all there was to know about such things, but there was such a large difference between knowing and experiencing.
And what an experience it is.
“C’mon, Cas,” Dean’s voice rumbled against Castiel’s ear, low and rough, full of fire and smoke and sin. “Let me in.”
He hardly felt capable of movement, and Castiel jerked his wings, longing to comply. His feathers were damp with sweat and flaking dye, sliding against Dean’s bare chest where he pressed along Castiel’s back. Castiel’s felt boneless, his skin too hot and tight as Dean mouthed the back of his neck, teeth just shy of biting.
A knee nudging his bare thighs apart made Castiel shudder, hands holding him open and baring his body to the cool night air. Castiel arched his back, hips already shifting to accommodate the weight of Dean as he pressed the angel into the soft earth beneath them.
Castiel’s sweat-dampened hair stuck to his forehead as he panted into the moist air, face twisting with pleasure as Dean slid his tortuous way inside him again. Castiel had lost count of their couplings, so many, yet not enough, never enough. Blood boiled in his veins as he urged Dean on with undulations of his hips, small wounded grunts forced from his throat with each thrust.
Dean was gasping against the nape of Castiel’s neck, each hot gust of air in perfect time with the drive of his hips. But the human was tiring, just as Castiel was, Dean’s arms shaking as they wrapped around Castiel’s chest. His thrusts grew shallower, merely rocking deeply into Castiel as the angel gritted his teeth against the onslaught of sensation that raced along his skin, the fire that coiled low in his gut.
The Qaadah rose above them both, glittering leaves caressing their bare skin as they mated. As others had done before them.
Castiel dug his fingers into the dark dirt, seeking to anchor himself to the moment, the feeling. If he could only keep ahold of this memory, perhaps it would never end. Perhaps they could stay this way forever.
It was futile. Dean pulled the angel’s head back with one gentle hand, lips sliding slickly on the exposed column of Castiel’s throat as he thrust into the angel harder, pushing them both towards the edge.
Castiel could never escape Dean, never truly wanted to. Dean would only have to utter it, and Castiel would give him anything. He would give him the moon and stars if he could, Oadriax and Geiad herself, if the human only asked it of him.
He was utterly, and completely, lost. Had been the first time he had seen the human stumbling through the forest, helpless when he had placed his hands upon the human and given him life.
Completely fallen, when he had witnessed Dean’s dreams and heard his fears.
His body welcomed Dean’s touch, skin burning where Dean’s fingertips dug into his hips, where his lips mouthed along the line of his throat.
He would give anything to Dean. His body, his malprigzch, his life.
Pinned by Dean’s weight, Castiel’s wings still fluttered to the beat of Dean inside of him. The glow from the Qaadah framed Dean’s face as he pulled back to bite out a curse, and Castiel dropped his face back onto his braced forearms, fixing the image in his mind. Their union would be forever sealed into the Qaadah, to display to all, and Castiel felt a swell of pride.
Dean’s movements grew quicker, more desperate. Castiel’s tired arms gave out, but strong arms slid under him, lifting him up, as Dean’s hips cleaved him open from behind. Castiel’s wings fell slackly on either side of the human as Dean pulled the angel onto his lap, groaning as Castiel arched with pleasure.
Pinning one arm across the angel’s chest, Dean’s other hand grabbed blindly for Castiel’s wing, fingers tangling in the black feathers and yanking him towards a precipice. Castiel could see the fall, felt himself stumbling along its edge, and he opened his eyes, gazing up at the glowing tree around them.
“Dean,” his voice was strained, gasping and so unlike him. “Dean, I-”
“Yes,” Dean’s voice hissed in his ear, demanding and confident. The human’s fingers tugged hard as Dean pushed upwards with his hips, and Castiel was gone. He fell, unraveling as he spiraled into ecstasy. Enochian tumbled from his lips, punched from his lungs with each push of Dean against him.
He promised the human everything, a life, a family. He confessed his love with sharp syllables and guttural vowels.
Dean did not understand, but he would in time.
They were mated. They had an eternity together.
Castiel opened his glazed eyes to look upwards. Dean’s head was thrown back, his throat quivering with pleasure as he gasped his release into the air, and for a brief moment, Castiel thought he could see the shadows of Dean’s wings.
The screams seemed muted, less horrific as Dean ran through the smoke, gun creaking in his hands. He felt light, hardly caring when a demon tried to lash out at him, just destroying the creature with a smile. He didn’t care about this nightmare anymore.
Because he wasn’t facing it alone.
“Should’ve told me you were dropping by,” Dean said flippantly, hoisting his gun across one shoulder. “I would’ve cleaned the place up a little.”
Castiel landed amidst the carnage, but the angel’s gaze was serious. Huh, that made a weird change from their usual make out dream sessions.
“You showed me your father, once,” Castiel said quietly. “In light of, certain events, I would like to show you something as well.”
Dean felt a slight flare of curiosity. As far as dreams went, even with his weird ones, this was out of the ordinary.
“I, uh,” Dean came to a stop, boots splashing in the muck. Well what the hell, he had just had sex with real Cas, what harm would humoring dream Cas do?
“Okay.” Dean tilted his helmet back with a wink. “Alright, Cas. What did you have in mind?”
With a smile that made Dean’s heart lurch, Castiel reached out to press two fingers against Dean’s sweaty forehead. His stomach staggered sideways, the world spinning in a mess of colors as he seemed to hurtle through time and space.
But just as quickly, it was over.
Dean blinked in the bright sunlight, recognizing the green clearing that stretched around him. It was the place Cas had once dragged him to practice archery, though the vegetation was smaller, more cared for.
A woman sat amongst the flowers, her long blonde hair glinting in the sun. She wore a simple brown strap top and khaki’s, and she sat cross-legged, peering up at the sky, shielding her eyes with one hand.
Mary.
Dean’s lungs felt ripped from his chest, his heart barely beating. It had been so long he had forgotten what she had looked like, the color of her skin, the shape of her face. Her golden hair tumbled down her bare shoulders, one cheek smudged with mud. She looked a part of the forest, a siren of Oadriax, and Dean took a step forward, longing to call out to her.
A young angel was with her, a boy probably in his teens. He lay on his back, dark wings spread beneath him as he rested his head in Mary’s lap. Mary ran her fingers through his dark hair as they both gazed up towards the sky, speaking quietly.
“They’re out there, Castiel,” she spoke, and Dean jerked at her voice. “My sons.”
Cas.
Of course, Dean could see his eyes now, the color of his wings. Cas was smaller here, not as defined and his face rounder, but it was him.
Mary looked down at young-Cas with a smile. “I bet Sam’s probably around your age by now. In human years that is.”
Dean circled the two, hands shaking. They couldn’t see him, he knew that. This was just a dream, a glimpse into something that wasn’t real.
Cas craned his face to look up at Mary. “Do you miss them?”
Mary exhaled shakily, fingers still stroking through Cas’s hair. Much as she had once done to Dean, so many years ago. “Yes. Very much.”
Cas seemed to mull that over, frowning slightly. It was so very Cas that Dean almost laughed. “Why did you leave if you miss them so much?”
Mary paused at the question, fingers stilling and Dean held his breath, not wanting to miss a second.
“It, it seemed like the right thing to do at the time,” Mary said slowly. She dropped her eyes back down to Castiel, and suddenly smiled, fingers darting to tickle the angel. “And I found you!”
Cas laughed loudly, squirming as his pinned wings flapped uselessly. The feathers looked softer, tufts of baby down still clinging to the emerging sleek black pin feathers.
“I’m glad you’re here,” the young angel said happily, and Dean’s chest constricted. “Do you, do you think I’ll meet them some day?”
Mary smiled, fingers resuming their gentle exploration of Cas’s scalp. “Maybe. One day, perhaps.”
“Mary!”
A strange voice called out, and Cas jerked, scrambling out of Mary’s lap. His wings jerked self-consciously as a male angel materialized out of the trees, striding towards the two with assured steps.
Dean didn’t recognize him. He was powerfully built like Michael, with a strong jaw and piercing blue eyes. His golden brown hair reminded Dean of Gabriel, his easy smile reminiscent of Balthazar. His wings were a glorious white, large and well groomed, and they flexed slightly as the angel halted in front of the two in the clearing.
“Father,” Cas cleared his throat, wringing his hands. “I wasn’t gone for long, I just. Mary was telling me-”
The male angel smiled, one pristine wing butting the youngster under the chin. “Yet another fledgling I have lost to your charms, Mary?”
Dean’s mother laughed, and Dean scrambled to remember the sound, to file it away in memory. “Zachariel, I’m sorry to keep your son. I always seem to get a bit lost in my stories.”
Cas’s father chuckled. “As always. Castiel.”
Young Cas straightened, wings flared. His father smiled at him indulgently, ruffling his hair with a broad hand. “Seek out Gabriel, my son. I believe he said something about ‘getting back at Balthazar’, and he needed assistance.”
Obediently, Cas nodded and hurried away. To the two adults, it looked as if he had left, but Dean could see the young angel hang back, darting behind a bush.
Trust Cas to not do what he was told.
Mary rose, dusting her legs down. She smiled, and Dean saw the sparkle in her eyes. There had been a time she had looked at John like that. At Dean.
“To what do I owe the honor, Zachariel?”
The angel paused in front of her, crossing his arms seriously.
“My older sons have warned me of you for years, Dr. Campbell. Lucifer in particular seems to think you are a, bad influence.” There was a smile playing around the angel’s lips, a sense of humor despite his pretend sternness.
Marry huffed, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been teaching Lucifer since he was a little pudgy thing with stubby wings. If he spent more time studying during my classes instead of coming up with wild stories, then he might actually be as good as Michael at English. Or, Geiad forbid, Gabriel.”
Zachariel chuckled, shaking his head. He reached out to take one of Mary’s hands in his, and Dean bristled.
“Lucifer is much like his mother, Geiad keep her soul safe,” he murmured. “No Mary, I needed to speak to you alone. I have heard some, troubling news.”
Mary looked up at him at that, squeezing the angels hand reassuringly. “I’ve heard the news at the base. But the war on Hel is over. I hardly think we’re in any danger here-”
Zachariel shook his head impatiently. “That is not what I meant. You know of whom I speak.”
Mary sighed, pulling away from the angel. “Azazel. You’re still worried about him?”
“Not about him,” Zachariel took a step forward, and his wings shifted uneasily. “I have seen the way he looks at you Mary. There is evil in him, and I fear for you.”
“I can take care of myself,” she ground stubbornly, and Dean managed a smile. That was the mother he remembered.
Zachariel seemed less amused. “Of that, I do not doubt. But he is not like us, Mary. I sense,” the angel frowned unhappily. “I sense a great deal of suffering and hatred within him, and it is tied to you. I do not want to see you hurt.”
Mary smiled, her eyes soft and understanding. “I know,” she murmured, stepping closer. “He scares me. I know he monitors everything I do.”
She dropped her arms helplessly, and Dean caught the pained look in her eyes. “I haven’t dared call home, in case that yellow bastard is listening in. Even when I found out John-”
She trailed off. Clearing her throat, she shook her head. “But there’s not a whole lot I can do. I just try and stay out of his way.”
Mary suddenly shimmered, the clearing dissolving as Dean looked around wildly.
No! He, he had to see more, had to find out what had happened.
But the dream was dissolving, colors swirling into grey as Dean was yanked sideways again. He could still see young Cas through the chaos, just visible through the trees.
The angel had been hiding in the bush eavesdropping, but he had been discovered. A younger looking Balthazar had erupted from the foliage, dragging his brother away from his hiding place.
As Mary and Zachariel faded from view, Dean suddenly understood what was happening, why this seemed so real and odd. It wasn’t a dream he had been watching.
It was a memory.
Everything slipped away, and Dean was cast into darkness.
When he came to, crouched low and lungs heaving, Dean recognized the pier from the first dream Castiel had taken him to. A younger version of Dean and Sam still sat at the end of the wooden pier, fishing for eternity in the crystal clear water.
Castiel materialized beside him, the right Castiel this time, with stubble and grave eyes.
“She was the closest thing to a mother I had ever known,” the angel admitted. “That, that was the last time I saw her.”
Dean didn’t even question what was happening, how the angel seemed so self-aware in what should be a dream. He got to his feet, stomach churning. “What happened, Cas? How did she die?”
Castiel shrugged unhappily, looking out towards the young boys at the end of the pier. “I wish I could give you that knowledge, Dean. I merely know that she was working in one the labs and there was a fire.”
His wings puffed sadly. “My father tried to save her. He, perished as well.”
Dean remembered the male angel, Zachariel. He felt a surge of gratitude towards the angel he had never known, gratitude that at least, Mary hadn’t died alone.
He managed a weak smile, bracing himself against one of the scratchy wooden poles of the pier. “Mom always used to say angels were watching over us. I guess she was right huh?”
Castiel looked towards him. “I suppose she was. She was a wonderful woman, Dean. I miss her greatly.”
Dean glanced away. All those years of wondering why his mother had left, and all that time she had found another family. Another son.
The angel took a step forward, reaching out to take Dean’s hand in his. “I wanted you to see her again, if only for a minute. That is my gift to you, as small as it is.”
Dean stared down at their clasped hands. It had hurt, to see her. To see her so happy without them. Without Dean.
Castiel was looking at him anxiously.
Dean couldn’t hate him. Couldn’t hate Mary, as much as he wanted to. Dean had fallen for the same things on Oadriax his mother had, the same angels and life. Earth could never truly compare to it.
Dean couldn't blame her for leaving. Not when this was out there waiting for her. He was just grateful he had found the same happiness she had.
Dean pulled Castiel close, dragging the angel into a deep kiss that he hoped got his true feelings across.
Thank you. I’m sorry.
When he pulled away, Castiel’s eyes were glazed, lips swollen. Dean touched his cheek.
“You’re really here aren’t you?” he asked quietly. “This isn’t just a weird dream. You’re really here. Have been all along.”
Castiel avoided his eyes. “It is a talent few of us have. We call it maninsi. Mind walking. It is, frightening, to my siblings. They do not understand it.”
Dean snorted. “I don’t think I really do either.”
Castiel moved closer, and Dean opened his arms automatically. The angel tucked his face into the safety of Dean’s neck, wings folding around them.
“When I saved your life, I created a bond,” Castiel murmured against Dean’s throat, hand sliding to Dean’s shoulder. The mark was fading, more and more each day as a different bond was forged between them. “It was unintentional but, I do not regret it.”
Dean chuckled, cheek resting against the angel’s wild hair. “So all this time we were making out and shit in my dreams, then dancing around each other during the day…”
Castiel stiffened, expecting anger. Maybe Dean should be angry, but he couldn’t find it within himself. Instead he only felt relief. Relief that Cas had really seen all the skeletons in Dean’s closet, and hadn’t cared.
Dean laughed, squeezing Castiel tighter. “We could have been having awesome alien sex for weeks, Cas!”
“My apologies,” Castiel grinned against his collarbone. “I suppose we will have much to catch up on.”
Dean nodded resolutely, giving the angel’s wings a playful smack. “You bet your ass, angel boy. I am gonna, -mmph!”
Castiel cut him off with a kiss, and Dean arched an eyebrow, pulling away slightly. “So that’s how it’s going to be? You just kiss me whenever you want me to shut up?”
Castiel smiled at him, bright and genuine. “I will kiss you every moment I can, Dean Winchester.”
Dean spluttered, embarrassed, and the angel pressed a chaste kiss against Dean’s cheek.
“As they say on Earth,” Castiel smirked. “Deal with it.”
Dean’s laughter seemed as part of the sunny lake as the boys at the pier, the man’s happiness a tangible weight in the air as Castiel tried to kiss the life out of him.
Dean jerked awake, the pier dissolving before him as the ground shuddered beneath his cheek. A deep metallic whine whumped through the air above them, and with a bitten off curse Dean scrambled to all fours. Above him, a shadow blotted out the morning sun, hanging heavy and ugly in the blue sky.
Castiel was already awake, dragging on his leggings as he stared up at the sky with horror, the blue paint smudged across his cheeks from Dean’s lips. The angel’s wings were a mess of white powder, from Dean’s ceremony paint.
“Dean, the sky,” Castiel gasped. “It’s, it’s monstrous.”
Dean grabbed his jeans, hopping into them awkwardly. He recognized the heavy craft rolling by overhead, the logo that caught the sun along the hull.
A Roman Enterprises B-class warbird. She squatted in the sky, a mess of ugly dull metal. Birds went scattering from the canopy as she flew overhead, and Dean recognized the swell of her cargo hold, knew exactly what type of ship she was.
A destroyer. Her cargo could fit over twenty explosive missiles. Just a few could level a city.
Dean yanked his jeans on all the way, stumbling amongst the now silent tendrils of the tree.
“That’s a warbird Cas!” he shouted, grabbing his boots. “She has enough fire power to take out cities, let alone a forest!”
The angel got to his feet, wings jerking worriedly as he stared up at the dark sky. “It is not alone.”
Other shapes glinted in the sun, droning loudly behind and alongside the hulking warbird. Helicrafts by the look of them, a whole battalion of ill intent.
But why were they here? Dean thought wildly, jamming his feet into his boots. He still had another month before his time was up, Crowley had assured him of that, and the red eyed demon was one of the few who could authorize the crafts to fly. Him and-
Dean froze. Of course.
“Azazel,” Dean spat, glaring venomously at the huge craft as she moved by. “That slimy bastard!”
Castiel eyed the sky worriedly. “Dean, they’re heading for the home tree. They’re, Geiad help us, they’re heading for the home tree!”
The angel took off, shoving the veins aside as he ran into the forest. Dean swore, taking off after him and struggling to keep up. The craft were moving slow overhead, and Dean raced behind Castiel’s disappearing shape in an attempt to stay ahead of them. Leaves slapped against their arms, flowers crushed beneath their pounding feet.
The buzz of the helicraft had roused the angels sleeping around the home tree, all sluggish and hung-over from the party the night before. As Dean and Castiel cleared the forest, Dean spotted Sam in the stirring crowd, looking around in confusion as Gabriel uncurled from his side.
Castiel ran forward, arms waving.
“Michael!” he shouted. “Michael there-”
His shout was drowned out by the whirring of the warbird as she swung into view overhead, and the angels shrieked , most scrambling towards the safety of the home tree. Dean was swept up in the panic, losing sight of Castiel until the angel grabbed his arm, tugging him aside with him.
“Dean why are they here?” Castiel was as scared as the rest of them, and Dean could only shake his head dumbly as the angel pulled him towards the safety of the tree.
“I, I don’t know, Cas!”
All the angels pressed into the cavity of the tree, shouting and crying out in alarm. Sam pushed his way through the crowd, squeezing in beside Dean.
“What the hell is going on, Dean?” his brother asked, Bobby stumbling behind. “What the hell are our craft doing here?”
Bobby glanced out towards the foreboding sky.
“This can’t mean nothin’ good,” the scientist muttered worriedly, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. “Crowley would’ve never authorized this, it’s gotta be Az-”
“Silence! Brothers and sisters, please!”
Michael’s voice boomed out, even over the whirring outside, and the angels fell quiet, turning towards their leader desperately.
“The humans!” one cried out. “They’ve come to kill us!”
“Hush,” Raphael growled, alighting beside her mate along the stairs. “Such nonsense. The humans mean us no ill will.”
Lucifer struggled to the head of the crowd, glaring up at Michael with contempt. “Do you see now brother? The humans have signaled their machines to destroy us!”
He turned to point accusingly towards Dean, eyes glittering with malice. “They were sent as spies, to destroy and corrupt us from within!”
Several angels cried out in agreement, and Dean felt a flare of panic as he was jostled. It was Castiel who put an end to it, snapping his wings out and pushing his brethren away from the humans.
“Silence!” he roared, and the angels around him stared. “I do not believe that, and you do not either!”
Lucifer sneered over at him, shoving several angels away with his wings. “What does the abomination know? Look at you Castiel, covered in filth. You took the human to the Qaadah! You are as much as traitor as he is!”
Curious eyes all turned towards them, and Dean cringed, aware of what he and Castiel must look; Dean’s paint smudged all down the angel’s wings, Castiel’s blue face paint smudged across Dean’s throat and chest.
He might as well wear a glaring sign stating: Totally banged your brother. Sorry.
Uriel looked furious, wings shaking as he shoved through the crowd. Castiel didn’t back down, tilting his chin upwards furiously as he stared Lucifer down.
“I have nothing to say to you,” he ground. “My life is my own. Dean is a Ne’gassagen. He would not harm us.”
“Lies!” Lucifer spat, wings arching. Dean’s stomach dropped as the blonde stared right at him, self-assured and sneering.
“He is no warrior, Castiel. He is a marine. A brainless soldier who receives orders from a demon!”
There were angry murmurs then. There was no love lost between the angels and the few demons they had encountered.
Lucifer smiled cruelly. “He follows orders, Castiel. And his orders were to infiltrate our home and destroy us!”
The angry muttering grew louder. Castiel’s wings twitched, but he stayed where he was. “I do not care about your hatred for humans, Lucifer!” he shouted back. “Dean is one of us, he would not destroy us!”
“Oh is that so, little brother?” Lucifer laughed. “If you’re so sure, ask him! Ask him what the demon has asked him to do!”
“I do not need to!” Castiel fired back, and Dean felt a surge of pride. “I trust Dean.”
Lucifer snorted. “As our Father trusted Mary?”
There was a ripple of gasps all around them, and Dean heard Bobby mutter a low curse. Lucifer advanced on Castiel, triumphant.
“Ask him, Castiel. Ask him if he follows orders from the very same demon who helped kill our father.”
There was an outcry now, angels speaking out together, a chorus of mistrust and unease. Castiel was shaking, but stayed where he was as Lucifer advanced.
“You know nothing,” Castiel ground, eyes furious. “Father died saving Mary from a fire. It was honorable and-”
Lucifer laughed, a vicious and hateful sound. “Honorable? Our father was murdered and you are following him down the same path!”
The elder baltoh leaned forward, into Castiel’s face, noses almost brushing. Castiel froze, his wings stock still.
“Your, human, was ordered to infiltrate us to gain our trust,” Lucifer said lowly. “Then he would make us move, so the humans could harvest their precious mineral. Ask him, Castiel. Prove me wrong.”
Angry shouts rang out, angels arguing with one another. Dean was frozen to the spot as Castiel slowly turned, his eyes devastated as he searched Dean’s face.
“Dean,” the angel’s voice trembled and Dean felt like curling up in a ball and dying. “Dean, tell me this isn’t true.”
“I, I,” Words deserted him. Azazel’s laughing eyes danced in front of Dean’s own, triumphant and cruel.
“Dean!” Castiel’s voice was anguished, and the angel reached forward to grab his shoulders. “Tell me it isn’t true!”
His hesitation was all the confirmation Lucifer needed. The angel turned away with a loud cry, arms thrown high.
“They’ll kill us all!” Lucifer shouted, fanning the flames of panic that spread through the crowd. “We have to run, escape while we can!”
“Wait!” Sam shouted over the din as Dean stood there dumbly, staring at Castiel. “There’s been some mistake. Just, just let us talk to them-”
“Enough!” Michael bellowed, wings beating the air in an attempt to gain order. “If this is true, we must move the clan, move them tow-”
There was a sudden crackle of static, and a group of young angels began crying as a loud voice cracked over an intercom from above.
“Attention all angels. Clear the vicinity. This tree has been claimed by the Roman Enterprise and will be demolished. I repeat, clear the vicinity.”
Bobby looked furious, jaw clenched and eyes wild.
“I’m gonna kill him,” he growled. “That back stabbin’, yellow eyed son of a bitch, I’m gonna kill-”
Something metallic clinked just outside the tree and Sam craned his head over the crowd to see, gently pushing several angels out of the way. His eyes suddenly widened.
“Smoke bombs!” he yelled, already starting to push the angels around him towards the exit. “Everybody out, smoke bo-”
Azazel blew on his steaming mug of coffee, grinning down at the scene below. The smoke bombs had the desired effect, sending the angels spilling out onto the grass around their precious home tree, coughing.
So pathetic. Little savages who clung to an ancient way of life that had no place in the new world. His eyes trailed across the flood of angels that poured from the tree, sharp eyes searching for one figure in particular.
“Say it again,” he ordered, and the pilot nodded, repeating the warning over the intercom. Azazel could see Bobby Singer waving up at him, face twisted and mouth wide. Shouting no doubt. The man was always shouting.
Azazel took another sip of his coffee, relishing the hot burn against his tongue. He thought about radioing back to base to see how Alistair was doing, but found he couldn’t care less. Whether the black eye managed to do his part of the plan or not, was of little consequence.
Azazel had bigger fish to fry.
“Well,” he leant forward to smile down at the confused creatures below. “I guess they don’t want to move.”
The black eyed pilot twisted in his harness. “Sir?”
“Fire, Captain,” the black eye hesitated, and Azazel’s eyes flashed. “I gave you an order. Fire.”
Slowly, the demon nodded. “Yes, sir. Ready all units, commencing incineration sequence in five…four…”
Azazel leant back, smiling.
Winchester wouldn’t know what hit him. Not until Azazel wanted him to. Hopefully that little shit Lucifer had done his part, and by the looks of the panicked crowd below, he had.
Awesome.
Azazel chuckled, clapping a hand to the wincing pilot’s shoulder.
“Let’s get this party started!”
For a stupid moment, Dean thought maybe he was dreaming. Maybe this was just another fucked up dream of his that he’d wake up from any minute, and laugh about with Cas later.
The first missiles tore into the main tree trunk, chunks of bark splintering into lethal shards. A blast of heat rolled over them all, the initial shockwave flinging them backwards. Fledglings were screaming. Adults shouted as black smoke spewed from the tree, flames licking along the ancient bark.
Angels in the nests above perished instantly, though some managed to escape the fires and take to the skies before the second round of missiles tore into the tree. The earth rumbled with shock, the home tree creaking and crackling as fire engulfed it whole. A slew of flame rained down from above, setting the Levithmong field ablaze. The creatures stampeded around in a blind panic, several screaming in agony as flames stripped the flesh from their bones.
It was chaos, and Dean stood in the middle of it dumbly, frozen to the spot as horror raged around him.
A young female bumped into him, and Dean stumbled, turning his shocked gaze up at the tree as it smoldered with orange flames. He could feel the heat, searing against his skin, and for a moment all he could see was red dirt and blood.
Sam suddenly shoved him hard, forcing Dean to start running.
“Run Dean!” Sam shouted at him, ash streaked across his face. “It’s going to collapse! For God’s sake, run!”
Bobby hung on grimly to Dean’s arms as they struggled to get through the smoke. It poured from the tree in a thick cloud, smothering and dark. Angels cried out all around them, disorientated and frightened, and Dean struggled briefly, trying to head back.
“I can’t, Cas-”
Sam shoved him forward. “He’ll be fine, Dean. Just keep moving!”
They all stumbled as the ground shook beneath them. The home tree groaned with a tangible pain, the wood around its base snapping. The sound was deafening, and leaves coupled with splinters of wood rained down on them, stinging as badly as the smoke.
Then, with a splitting crack, the tree began to move.
The huge trunk blotted out the sun as it fell, crashing down through the billows of smoke with a grinding shriek as if, the tree itself was crying out in pain. Sam forced Dean and Bobby down onto their bellies, taking cover in the forest where some of the smaller trees might shelter them.
Dean ducked his head low, side jammed up against Sam. Bobby was shouting, cursing as the tree came down in a shower of flames right above them. Dean braced himself for it, for the horrible death that surely had to follow, sparing a hopeful thought that Cas was safe somewhere.
But the forest stood strong, and the massive home tree finally ground to a halt above them, shifting into silence as its bark snapped and crackled where it lay supported by the smaller trees.
Everything fell quiet.
Dean slowly raised his head, shooting a terrified look towards Sam. His brother was okay, wincing as he uncurled from his crouched position. Bobby was panting, tears tracking through the soot on his cheeks as he looked up at the dead tree with horror.
Then the screams began.
“Cas! Cas!”
Castiel could hear Dean’s shouts, but did he not return them.
His heart felt like it was cracking in two, shattering into a million tiny shards that stabbed him, burrowing their sharp corners into his ribs. His shaking fingers traced the skin beneath his hands, as angels ran past him.
Screaming, always screaming.
Smoke made the air unbearable, his lungs spasming in his chest, but Castiel remained where he was, head downcast and tears digging tracks through the soot coating his face. Ash rained down from the sky, and Castiel’s filthy wings struggled to protect the slumped figure in front of him, to protect a brother who had always protected him.
Balthazar lay still, his face slack and relaxed as Castiel touched him, fingers still searching for a pulse despite finding none already.
His brother had pushed him out of the way as the home tree had come crashing down, rolling Castiel into a small groove in the earth where a log had lain. The action had saved Castiel’s life, but it had cost Balthazar his own.
He was pinned, lower body hidden by a heavy branch. Balthazar’s wings were spread serenely beneath him, and Castiel smoothed the feathers down with shaking fingers.
“Noasmi lit Geiad, esiasch,” he whispered. “Olani hoath ol.”
(Be with God, brother. I love you.)
Boots were moving towards him, Dean’s tones growing more panicked.
“Cas! Castiel! Where are- Cas!”
Castiel squeezed his eyes shut against the wave of grief that threatened to overwhelm him as Dean emerged from the smoke. He hated the joy he felt that Dean was safe, hated what the human had done to him so callously.
“Get back,” he growled, voice hoarse from the smoke in the air. “Get back!”
Dean paused, seeing Balthazar. His face fell, and Castiel longed to run to him, longed to wrap himself in the arms he had only just begun to know.
The anger in him grew.
Dean started forward again, hands spread and pleading. “Cas, please, let me-”
“Stay away from me!” Castiel’s voice cracked, wings trembling. “This, this is your fault! You, you did this!”
Dean looked devastated, and Castiel bowed his head in anguish.
“Cas, please,” Dean’s voice was pained, begging, but Castiel steeled himself, wings flaring aggressively.
“Leave!” he shouted, tears in his eyes. “Leave, Dean! I wish I had never met you.”
Castiel’s grief was too consuming, his anger blinding. His voice spoke without his permission, and he nearly choked on his words.
“I wish, I wish I had never saved you,” he muttered bitterly, vision blurring. “I should have let you die.”
He could sense the effect on Dean, the human recoiling as if Castiel had dealt him a physical blow. He might as well have, the pain that lanced through Castiel’s chest was real enough.
Dean swallowed heavily, but he tried again, taking a step forward. “Cas, just let me help, I, I can explain-”
Castiel raised his head, numbing his heart against the broken look Dean gave him. “You’ve done enough,” Castiel spat bitterly. “Leave!”
“Dean!” Sam appeared, grabbing his brother and pulling him away. “Dean, we gotta go! Azazel is going to deploy ground troops!”
At Dean’s lack of response, Sam shook him. “Dean we have to go.”
Dean pushed him away, still looking at Castiel.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sam,” he said gruffly, and Castiel felt his heart break all over again. “We, we have to help…”
The wounded sound that clawed its way from Castiel’s throat was one he had never heard before.
“Leave!” he screamed, and Sam stumbled back a pace, horrified as he noticed Castiel. “I never want to see you again! Dean, leave!”
Castiel refused to face the Winchesters any longer. With a moan, he bowed his torso low over Balathazar’s body, bitten off wails of grief torn from his throat as he rocked the brother he had loved so dearly. He didn’t watch Dean leave, forcibly dragged by Sam, the angel too consumed with the death and destruction of his home that now lay in ruins around him.
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