[FIC] Call Me Hopeless, But Not Romantic for artmetica
Gift Type: Fanfic
Title: Call Me Hopeless, But Not Romantic
Author: etcetera_kit
Recipient: artmetica
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 7166
Warnings: Torture, smut, language, incorrectly calculated driving distances
Spoilers: Definite spoilers for 7.01 and 7.02, but vague spoilers up to 7.08
Summary: Dean assumes Cas died when the Leviathan took over his vessel, but Crowley arrives and informs him that his birdies say otherwise. His life was never meant to be normal, but Crowley’s information sends him down a twisted road of redemption.
Author’s Notes: Thanks to my wolf pack, jilli_rose, for alpha and beta reading. I was thrown for a loop with no specific prompts, but I hope this hits some of your likes and that you enjoy it, artmetica! The title is borrowed from the Mayday Parade song of the same name.
“Cas is not alive. The Leviathan fucking killed him and then melted his vessel!”
“Well, I hear he’s not.”
“Listen to me, you little son of a bitch-“
“I don’t understand why you’re so tense, darling. This is supposed to be good news. Everyone knows you’re in love with that grubby little angel.”
“Crowley, if you open your mouth again-“
“Think about who you’re threatening. King of Hell, remember?”
“Dean, let’s think about this.”
Dean whirled around to face Sam. “No, Sam,” he ground out. “Let’s not think about this. Cas went completely off the rails and died, and now we’re going to listen to Crowley? How many times has this bastard screwed us over?”
Sam sighed. “I know how much you miss him.”
“I do not miss Crowley.”
“Cas, you moron!”
“I do not miss Cas!”
“Then why do you cuddle with his damn trench coat every night?”
“I do not.”
Crowley snickered. Dean turned back to him, glaring. The former crossroads demon just shrugged and smirked. “Denial is so adorable on you.”
“What do you know?” Sam asked.
The three of them were in Bobby’s basement. Or what was left of Bobby’s basement. The Leviathan melted the whole place really well, but Bobby had a few black boxes hidden with copies of ancient texts, rare artifacts and weapons-essentially, things that they were going to need if they had any chance of sending the Leviathan back where they belonged.
And all of this shit was Cas’ fault, so why did Crowley think he was interested in finding Cas? And why did everyone in the room think he was in love with Cas? Weirdoes. They obviously watched too much HBO. Or Glee. Possibly both.
“As you all know, I hate those dicks-“
“We know,” Dean groused.
“Then you also know that I have little birdies everywhere who tell me things.”
Sam put a hand on Dean’s arm. Dean had been about to take a swing at Crowley. Limey asshole always spent too much time talking and not enough time getting to the point. And apparently his Lance Armstrong of a brother had enough patience to deal with the antics. “And your spies told you what, exactly?” Sam prompted.
“We’ve been staking out a warehouse outside of Butte, Montana. Lots of Leviathan activity there. But we can’t really tell what they’re up to.” He gave them an address.
“And?”
Crowley had the nerve to look annoyed at Sam hurrying him to the point. “And,” he echoed. “One of my birdies got close enough to get a glimpse inside the warehouse. Lots of dungeons. Nasty business.” Crowley shuddered theatrically. “But before his eyes burned out, he saw an angel chained in one of the cells. Same vessel as our dear backstabbing angel, but they had some mojo going on that forced his wings to manifest.”
“Melted eyes?” Sam asked.
“Wings?” Dean commented at the same time.
Crowley shrugged again. “I wouldn’t worry about that. Low level minion’s eyes burned out. You and I would probably be fine. Takes a low level of grace for wings to manifest.”
Dean didn’t even want to know how Crowley knew that.
“Anyways,” Crowley continued. “Thought you two might like to know that. Despite all the drama, Dean still appears to be in love with him.”
“I am not.”
“Trench coat, darling. Your brother already ousted you.”
“I will kill you,” Dean spat through clenched teeth.
“You could try. But then who would keep rogue crossroads demons from going amuck on you?”
Dean really, really hated to admit that they were both right. Theoretically. He’d never analyzed his feelings about Cas, just assumed that the nerdy little angel would keep coming back and being around. He’d always been there to help them, always took their side, and even put up with all the insults that Dean hurled his way. And then he got himself tangled up with Crowley and a civil war that he couldn’t win.
And didn’t listen when Dean told him he was going down the wrong path.
He remembered Cas’ eyes right before they got him to put the majority of the souls back into Purgatory. Regret like that couldn’t be faked-and Dean knew, he’d tried. Cas really was sorry and knew how badly he fucked up. And right before they realized that the Leviathan had hung on inside of Cas, Dean knew that he wasn’t getting rid of the angel, because Cas was going to do anything to make things right with him (and to a lesser extent, Sam.)
For a microsecond, Dean had pictured a near future where Cas never went away and brought him bacon cheeseburgers and beer all the time. (Although Cas would probably start with flowers or something else equally as ridiculous that he saw on TV.) He’d help with hunts, fix the wall in Sam’s head, and Dean would eventually forgive him, because, hell, he hadn’t been lying when he said Cas was like a brother to him and was family.
Now all he had left was a fucking trench coat, along with Crowley and Sam who apparently knew the real extent of his feelings for Cas. If they knew, who the hell else knew?
Come on, he was Dean Winchester. He did not sleep with or fall in love with other dudes.
Except he did.
Fuck.
“Anyways, this has been fun. But I really need to dash. Minions to keep in line and all of that. You understand.”
And Crowley was gone.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between him and Sam for a couple of long seconds.
After what felt like several decades, Sam cleared his throat and said, “So, Butte?”
“Yeah,” Dean replied roughly.
“Want me to drive?”
“Fuck no.”
--------------------
Sioux Falls to Butte was a twelve hour drive. Dean made the trip in ten. Most of the drive was spent in silence, other than Sam asking the obligatory, “So do we have a plan?”
“We’re getting Cas out.”
“So what? We go get a ton of borax and go in the front door?”
“We’ve had worse plans.”
Sam let out a long-suffering sigh and pulled out his laptop and aircard. An hour later, he had done his nerd thing and pulled up the blueprints for the warehouse, owner records and a dozen other useful factoids for storming the castle, as it were. Dean supposed, since Sam was doing his whole Zen Lance Armstrong thing, he wasn’t as bitter about the wall in his head being torn down. The kid kept kicking at the wall, so Dean guessed that he was probably doing better knowing everything anyways. Hell, they’d all take turns punching Cas after they rescued him.
“The place used to be a meat packing plant, slaughterhouse, the whole nine yards,” Sam explained.
“In Montana?” Dean shrugged. “I guess mountain men need to hunt something.”
Sam continued like he hadn’t even heard the comment. “From the blueprints, I’d guess that the Leviathan converted some of the old holding pens into cells for prisoners. Crowley said that the demon saw into a window from the outside, which means that the holding pens are probably our best bet for a starting point.”
“Okay.”
His younger brother gave him a classic concerned bitchface. “Dean, are you all right? I mean, trying to break Cas out of this is almost like a suicide mission. Who knows why the Leviathan have him, but it can’t be good.”
“It’s Cas, Sam. We have to try.”
“No, I agree. It’s just-you’re very determined here.”
“Please do not bring up the trench coat.”
“You brought it up this time.”
Dean resisted the urge to stick his tongue out. He’d spent the last three months believing that Cas was dead and not that he knew differently… he didn’t give up on family. They were getting Cas back and they were taking him somewhere-the cabin near here or another one of Bobby’s hiding places. Hell, Bobby might even be interested in seeing Cas again (after they all got in line to punch him, of course.)
The rest of the drive was spent in true silence. Dean was busy driving on back roads like a maniac and Sam was trying to finish his Internet recon before his computer died. They pulled into Butte after midnight. The town was tiny-they’d driven through on some other Montana jobs. Like most small towns, everything closed by nine and there were a ton of Mom and Pop restaurants and tourist shops. And, because this was Montana, every restaurant had huckleberry something-pancakes, ice cream sundaes, pie… they’d need to get huckleberry something while they were here.
“The warehouse is on the edge of town,” Sam said quietly. He gave Dean simple driving directions to the outskirts of the tiny town. They passed the ridiculously small airport, his mind noted almost hysterically.
Since there was not much in Butte, finding a place to park and not be noticed by the Leviathan in the warehouse was a little difficult. But Dean found a place amongst some trees that would give them a good view of the warehouse.
“Seems to be quiet,” Sam commented after he fished some binoculars from the backseat and got a good view of the building.
“That’s never good.”
“I don’t know. Maybe they don’t know demons are spying on them.”
Dean frowned at Sam. “You really think they’re that arrogant?”
“Death said they were ancient. Maybe they don’t think angels or demons pose any sort of threat to them.”
“Why does everyone make that mistake?” Dean muttered.
“Yeah, they’re hunting us.” Sam snorted. “It’s almost flattering that they think we’re the threat and not the other supernatural things.”
“Whatever.”
Sam studied the building for a few more seconds. “There,” he said, pointing to the east side of the warehouse. “The holding pens were there, so if a demon saw in the window, then that’s the most likely place.”
“Okay. Let’s hope they haven’t decided to move Cas somewhere else.”
They’d stopped quickly sometime before Montana and stocked up on all the essentials with borax in them. Mostly laundry detergent, which Dean preferred because they weren’t covered in an acrid chemical smell, but were daisy fresh. (Or something like that.)
They got out of the car and went to the trunk. Sam had jokingly suggested squirt guns for the laundry detergent, and Dean had told him to shut-up and hurry up. Now, that didn’t seem like a bad plan. They each loaded a couple machetes and the detergent into a duffel bag. Dean brought a shotgun, just in case. He always felt better with a few guns, even though he knew that guns were worthless in a fight with a Leviathan.
The warehouse remained quiet as they walked up towards the east side. The place had probably been nice once, with sidewalks and landscaping. Now, most of the plants were dead and the sidewalk looked like it had gone a couple rounds with a sledgehammer, but the building still appeared to be in decent condition.
Christ, he wanted Cas back so badly he could taste it. When the Leviathan said Cas was dead, he just kind of accepted it as a raw, ugly truth. Like when Dad died, or Jo and Ellen, or Ash, or Rufus… he’d never even thought about those moments leading up to the Leviathan taking over Cas’ vessel. He’d been unconscious and stunned after sending the souls back, but then he healed his vessel and stood up. When the Leviathan took him into the lake, all Dean got was the trench coat, but there were no nasty bits, like a melted or exploded human had been wearing the coat. Cas was strong-not stronger than the Leviathan, but once they left his vessel, Dean should have believed that he’d be able to heal his vessel. Get away.
And Dean felt a huge pang of guilt, because, once again, he’d left Cas behind.
The security lights were on around the warehouse. They walked to the various windows-barred. Everything was higher up. They needed an access point.
“Dean.” He turned towards Sam. He pointed towards an emergency exit past the barred windows.
Better than nothing. They walked quickly along the side of the building to the door.
Which was open.
Okay, either the Leviathan were very secure with the knowledge that no one else knew about this particular hiding spot, or this was a trap and they had anticipated the whole thing. He hoped it was the latter. He’d settle for something in between. He was a huge schmuck because the latter was probably the case, and all three of them-him and Sam and Cas-were going to end up dead.
Must be Tuesday.
They moved into the building. Only the emergency lights were on in the hall, which was pretty good news-they didn’t have to use flashlights and attract attention to themselves. Most of the cells were empty, but the lights were on in one, and soft voices came from the cell. Dean frowned, the noises all too much like Hell.
“Please…”
“Shut-up. You brought this on yourself.”
“I can’t-“
“You are just a stupid, greedy angel. You know we’re older than you.”
The two gloating voices continued, right along with the cries of pain. God, they were in there doing… well, Dean could picture some things and each was worse than the last. He reached into his duffel bag to pull out the borax and watched Sam do the same from the corner of his eye.
They reached the cell door. The hall appeared clear and the only two Leviathan around seemed to be the ones in Cas’ cell.
Dean glanced around the corner of the door. Luckily, the Leviathan were occupied with… shit. They’d obviously forced Cas to reveal his wings-and had punctured his wings with meat hooks to suspend them across the room. Cas was chained to the floor by a collar. He was too thin and dirty and had been beaten more ways… but what those bastards had done to his wings. Dean was going to kill all of them.
He rushed into the room and splashed both Leviathan with the detergent. Sam followed, efficient beheading both. Two seconds and both were incapacitated.
Dean dropped the detergent and crossed the room to Cas. The angel appeared to be going in and out consciousness. “Hey,” he said, cupping Cas’ face between his hands. “Cas? Can you hear me?” Those blue eyes slowly lifted from the floor to his face.
“Dean?” Cas asked. “Are you real?”
“Very.” Dean glanced down the span of each of his wings. Cas wasn’t standing-he was slumped forward and his wings were very obviously carrying his weight. Cas needed to stand in order for them to get the meat hooks out. He ran a hand through Cas’ hair. “Come on, you need to stand so we can get you out of here.”
“I can’t,” Cas choked out, tears slipping down his cheeks. “It hurts too much.”
The angel was shirtless, but was still wearing the black slacks. One foot appeared swollen-Dean would have to strip him down later to assess all the damage. “Come on, Cas, grab my shoulders. I need you to be upright so Sam can get the hooks out.”
“I-“
Dean wrapped an arm around Cas’ waist and lifted him. He sobbed. Sam finished dousing the heads in detergent and joined them. He pulled one of the hooks free. Cas’ face was pressed against Dean’s neck and he only sobbed harder when the hooks came out.
“Hang in there,” Dean murmured. “We’ll get you someplace safe. You’ll be fine.”
Sam finished the hooks on one wing and moved to the other. Cas had moved one arm, so he was clinging to Dean, but the other arm he held against his chest. The collar of Dean’s shirt was soaked from tears and sweat, and he really didn’t care. Cas was a warm, solid weight, real and in his arms. Sam was working as quickly as he could, but Cas was shaking and the hooks had apparently been there for some time.
The moment the last hook came out, Cas slumped forward completely, wings folding against his back, his entire weight on Dean. “Sam,” Dean called. “Help me get him to the car.”
The place remained quiet while they hauled Cas to the car. The angel cried out as Dean laid him in the backseat and then climbed in with him. Sam grabbed the keys and slipped in the driver’s seat.
“Dean…”
Cas’ voice was weak and wrecked.
“It’s okay. It’s over.”
But he wasn’t sure that anything would ever be over.
--------------------
“We need to take him to a hospital!”
“And say what? His wings are infected?”
“We’ve got to do something, Dean! That infection isn’t just going away!”
“What are we supposed to do?”
“Find another angel. Joshua, maybe?” Sam threw up his hands and continued pacing in the living room of the small cabin in Nebraska.
“Come on, Sam. He smoked Raphael and we don’t know what he did when we were holed up at Bobby’s, so I don’t know if there is another angel to help him.”
Dean sank down onto the couch and looked at his hands. He didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t thought much further than getting Cas out. Turned out that his first scenario had been right-the Leviathan were convinced that no one knew about their Montana hide-out. They’d had to move Cas three times since then, and the angel got weaker each time. And the Leviathan were pissed about losing the live angel they had to torture and question.
Only ten days had passed, but each day felt like a century. Dean hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time, mostly in a chair near Cas. He spent most of his time trying to patch up Cas’ wings and assessing the rest of his injuries. The first night in Montana, Dean stripped Cas down and got a good look at his injuries. The worst damage was to his wings-the white feathers were gray from dirt and grime, with huge puncture wounds. Even the undamaged parts of the wings had places bare of feathers. Dean didn’t know much about wings, but that didn’t look good.
Cas also had a broken wrist and foot. His ribs were bruised, and he had cuts and bruises all over. Dean made Cas lay down on the bed in the cabin, on his stomach, his wings spread over each side of the bed. Cas was mostly beyond arguing and obviously in pain. He just listened to Dean’s soft orders. Dean frowned at the hand-shaped bruises on Cas’ hips.
“Cas, did they-“
He couldn’t even finish the sentence. And Cas’ soft sob was answer enough.
Bobby arrived a few hours after them. Dean just sat by Cas on the bed, gently trying to clean him up and work on wrapping his foot and wrist. He got some ice on the foot. He didn’t want to touch the wings until he, Bobby and Sam had a powwow. When Bobby showed up, he stood to talk to him. Cas grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t leave me alone,” he whispered.
It took twenty minutes for Dean to convince Cas he was just going into the next room and would be back in less than five minutes.
“Remember when he was hungover?” Sam asked, bringing Dean back to the present.
“Yeah. Took a liquor store to get him drunk and a whole bottle of aspirin to help with the hangover.”
“So human medicine worked, just he needed way more.”
“Yes.”
“We’re going to break into a hospital and get what?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to do some research.”
“Whatever.” Dean stood up.
The Nebraska cabin, unlike the one in Montana, had only two rooms-the main room with a couch, table and chairs, and kitchen, and the bedroom. Cas was in the bedroom. Dean just left Sam in the living room and went into the bedroom.
Cas was lying on the bed, on his stomach, wings spread out. He was wearing an old pair of Dean’s pajama bottoms. Since he couldn’t retract his wings into his vessel because they were too injured, Cas hadn’t been wearing a shirt. After the infection set in, he was feverish and alternately hot and cold. Dean had been wrapping blankets around his back and chest when he got cold. He also figured since he was so injured, he’d need to eat, drink and sleep. Which mostly proved true. Cas tended to be a little less feverish and had better days when he stayed hydrated and ate what Dean gave him.
“Hey,” Dean said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. He ran his fingers through Cas’ sweat-damp hair.
“Dean?” Cas tried to shift closer to him, wings rustling. As he moved, he made a low, pained noise.
“Come on. Don’t move.” He tried for a stern tone, but his words mostly came out as concerned. He shifted closer to Cas, letting the angel curl up against his leg, one wing practically in his lap.
“I’m hot,” Cas mumbled against the denim of his jeans.
“I know.”
Since the fever set in, Cas had been delirious half the time, having nightmares that ended with him screaming. They hadn’t been able to have a conversation with Cas about what to do about his wings-and when Cas was lucid, he was more likely to tell them to let him die.
“Man, you’ve got to give us something,” Dean said softly, fingers still running through Cas’ hair. “Sam’s about to plan a hospital heist to get some prescription grade medication. And since we’re back on the FBI’s radar, I don’t know if that’s such a hot idea.”
Cas made an unintelligible noise.
“Cas,” Dean continued. “I’m not leaving you behind again. You’re family-and we’ve all pulled some pretty fucked up shit. Just… I don’t want you to die. Not after all this.”
He’d told Cas the same thing every day-he just wondered when Cas would start to believe him.
And that was the real problem, wasn’t it? Cas was afraid that the moment he got better, he’d go back to being their back-up, the guy they only called when they were in a bind or needed extra muscle. Before the Apocalypse that never was, Cas had been Dean’s friend-and a damn good friend. He rebelled and fell for Dean, and, after all of that, he went back to Heaven and Dean didn’t bother trying to find him for a year.
“You’re practically a Winchester,” Dean whispered. “Hell, you are a Winchester. Just tell me how to fix this. You can stay here-I’ll hide you from whatever you’re afraid of.”
“I know,” Cas replied after a long moment.
“Cas-“
“Be quiet,” the angel said, with a hint of the old ‘I will smite your ass’ attitude back in his voice. “I need to pray.”
“Do you want me to go?”
“No.”
Cas settled down like he was sleeping. Dean wasn’t much for praying, unless it was a desperate cry for help (that usually went ignored) or to ask Cas for something, so he didn’t know the mechanics, but he guessed flat on one’s face was legitimate.
After a few minutes, Cas’ breathing evened out and Dean figured he really was sleeping. He pulled the blankets up around Cas and tucked him in, in case he got cold while he slept. He slipped out of the room.
Bobby had gotten back from the supply run, and he was looking over Sam’s shoulder at the computer screen.
“You find something?” he asked.
Sam looked up. “Is he asleep?”
“Said something about needing to pray, but I think he fell asleep in the middle.”
“Some prayer,” Bobby snorted.
“Yeah,” Dean replied, before nodding at the laptop. “Seriously. You find something.”
“There’re a couple of antibiotic treatments that doctors use for infected wounds.” Sam tapped a few keys. “I think there’s enough at Lincoln General.”
“Getting it is going to be a bitch, though,” Bobby added. “Only certain hospital staff can get to that kind of stuff and we’ll need fake IDs, the works. Could take a couple of days.”
The comment went unspoken-they weren’t sure if Cas had a few days.
“Do it,” Dean said. “When do we leave?”
Bobby gave him an almost exasperated expression. “Dean, you need to stay here with Cas.”
“If this can help him-“
“You’re the only one he listens to,” Bobby interrupted. “And the only one he talks to or responds to. So you stay here.” At Dean’s stunned look, he added, “What? You hadn’t noticed that?”
Honestly, no, he hadn’t noticed that, but since he’d spent every waking moment with Cas, how was he supposed to?
“We’ll take care of the drugs,” Sam said softly. “Can you go get Cas to drink some water?”
He’d have to wake Cas up, but, sure.
Since he’d been effectively dismissed from the hospital raid, he turned and went back into the bedroom. Cas was still asleep, fidgeting and murmuring. Dean just sighed and took his place on the edge of the bed again. Ten days and he felt like he’d aged ten years.
--------------------
When Cas woke up the next morning, all he said was, “Joshua says that Sam’s plan will work.”
“Did he say anything else?” Dean replied, voice rough from sleep.
Cas didn’t reply.
--------------------
“Okay, we need to find a vein.”
Since everything Dean knew about medicine came from Dr. Sexy, MD and from trying to patch himself up, he figured he’d punt to Sam on this one. (Although Sam’s knowledge probably came from ER and Nip/Tuck.) Bobby had been in the military at one point, so he probably had the best idea of what to do.
All of this would be going much better if Cas didn’t look terrified of the idea of a needle in his arm. The angel was lying face down in Dean’s lap, arms tucked under him, shaking so hard Dean could feel the tremors.
“No,” Cas was practically crying.
“Joshua said this would help,” Dean tried comforting him. “It’s not so bad.”
Bobby and Sam were jury-rigging the IV. Dean gently ran his fingers through his hair. He never got sympathy for being afraid of needles or much of anything else as a kid. So he learned to take the bad stuff and move on. Dean never imagined Cas would be afraid of anything, but they really had no idea exactly what the Leviathan did to Cas.
“Cas, just put your arm out,” Dean told him. “I’ll stay with you.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
Arguing with Cas was like arguing with a wall. He gently pulled one of Cas’ arms out from under his chest, surprised that Cas allowed himself to be manhandled. He turned Cas’ arm for Bobby and Sam to do their thing. He kept one hand in Cas’ hair and the other on the bicep of his outstretched arm, to help keep him in place.
In retrospect, Bobby did an excellent job of getting the IV in quickly and taping it down. In the moment, it took both Dean and Sam to hold Cas down.
Cas was openly sobbing against Dean when they were done, and Dean just held him close, trying to let him know that this was all right, he’d be fine soon.
The first IV drip seemed to take forever. Cas couldn’t relax and clung to Dean (probably so he wouldn’t rip the needle out.) Although, after the first one, Cas seemed less feverish and the wounds on his wings were not as swollen. Dean did the only thing he could think of-he sang Hey Jude while trying to rock Cas, even though they were in a relatively awkward position.
By end of the second round of antibiotics, the infection in the wings was nearly gone and Dean could see that in a few hours, those wounds would be healed completely.
Hoarse and exhausted, Dean finally fell into a fitful sleep.
--------------------
“The Leviathan are onto us again. Someone was following me at the grocery store.”
“I don’t know if we should move Cas, he’s still-“
“We have to. Or we’ll all be chew toys.”
“All right, fine. I’ll get him ready.”
--------------------
“Hello, Dean. I need to speak to Castiel.”
Dean jolted awake. They’d move to another one of Bobby’s hideouts-of which, he seemed to have a never-ending supply. (He suspected some of them were Rufus’ and, since Rufus had no will, Bobby had taken them over.) This time they were in Colorado. Bobby’s other suggestion had been Texas, but Dean couldn’t imagine the humidity would be good for Cas’ wings.
His wings had healed-the wounds were gone. The places where the wounds had been were still bare of feathers and the skin looked dry and chapped. Cas had explained that he needed to groom the wings, but that was difficult. Angels apparently helped each other with that part of the process. Dean had offered to help and Cas had told him no.
Three weeks since Crowley had joined them in Sioux Falls and sent them on the Cas hunt.
And Cas’ foot and wrist still weren’t completely healed.
Joshua was standing at the foot of the bed. Since Cas’ wings didn’t have gaping wounds, he would retract them into his vessel and had been only bringing them out to groom them. Dean hadn’t gone back to sleeping in his own bed after spending too many nights with a feverish Cas. And the angel hadn’t insisted he leave (although he probably would have protested if Dean did try to sleep somewhere else.) Sam and Bobby were keeping their mouths shut, which meant Dean got pretend that he and Cas were just friends for a little while.
“Alone, please, Dean.”
“Okay.” Dean sat up and shook Cas awake.
“Joshua?”
“I’ll be just outside if you need something,” Dean told Cas.
Cas nodded, looking sleep-worn and exhausted.
Dean slipped out of bed and went into the kitchen. He glanced at his watch-five-thirty in the morning. He put on a pot of coffee and waited while it brewed. Sam and Bobby were asleep upstairs. His stomach felt tight at the idea of Cas talking to Joshua. Granted, Cas hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone from Heaven and, if Dean was really honest with himself, anyone outside of him. He was fine with protecting Cas and Sam could definitely attest to him being overprotective, but Cas needed to come out of his shell and do something.
He glanced out the window. This time of year, snow was thick on the ground in Colorado. The last time he’d had a decent Christmas had been the year before he went to Hell and he practically had to browbeat Sam into going along with the tree and food and presents. Cas never was around to celebrate Christmas with them and, while none of the recent ones were that stellar, they still got a day off to celebrate and eat too much.
Dean could manage to put something together this year. They had an oven and cooking a turkey wasn’t rocket science. Between him, Sam and Bobby, they could come up with a meal. They couldn’t do presents, but who really needed presents?
He took a mug out of a cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee. The stuff was a cheap store brand and tasted a little like battery acid, but that might have been the pot.
“Dean?” Joshua was in the doorway of the room. “Can you join us, please?”
“Sure.” He pushed off the counter, coffee mug in hand and followed Joshua back into the bedroom.
Cas was sitting on the bed, knees drawn to his chest, the blankets pooled around him. He looked small and terrified. Dean wanted to pull him into his arms and fix this.
“Dean,” Joshua said softly. “Heaven is in shambles. All who could ascend to become the next leader are trapped in the Cage or are dead.” He gave a sad smile. “You know that Crowley is keeping a tight grip on his demons while the Leviathan walk the Earth.”
“Can angels or demons stop the Leviathan?” Dean asked.
“Leviathan are ancient. They are older than angels and demons. We cannot allow them to take over Earth, but we also are not ready to fight them. We need to study them-some items you have already helped with. But we also need a leader.”
“Why not you?”
“I tend the Garden. And I speak to God. I am not the leader we need.”
Dean glanced to Cas, still almost catatonic. “And Cas is?”
“He’s broken, but not hopeless.” Joshua shook his head. “We all make the wrong choice at one time or another. We learn from those choices. Castiel does not need redemption from Heaven-that he already has. He needs redemption from his friends here.”
“What?” Dean gaped at Cas. He knew the angel had been having problems with Sam and Bobby, but Cas had to know they were all fine, right? Hell, he wouldn’t have saved Cas’ ass-and Sam wouldn’t have helped-if they didn’t care about him. “We’re fine, Cas, believe me.”
“Dean,” Joshua interrupted. “How much do you know about angel bonding?”
“About what?”
“I thought so.” Joshua’s expression turned bemused. He gave Cas a sharp look. “Shame on you for not telling him sooner.”
Dean figured he now looked like a fish out of water. “Bonding?”
“When angels bond with another-which can be another angel or a human-they usually leave a mark on their mate.” Joshua gestured towards the handprint scar on Dean’s shoulder. Without thinking, he reached up and covered the scar with his own hand. “There are other steps in the process, but Castiel can tell you more about those.”
“Oh.” Huh. Bonding?
“I must get back.” He turned to Cas. “I hope to see you soon, brother.”
And Joshua was gone.
Dean stared at Cas. “Bonding?”
Cas finally looked up, lowering his arms and pushing his legs forward. “I didn’t think you’d want it, so I never finished the process.”
“You ever think to ask me what I want?” Dean asked, stepping towards the bed.
“I thought you wanted a normal life with Lisa and Ben,” Cas replied in a small voice.
“My life is never going to be normal.” He sat down on the bed next to Cas. The angel tensed, but didn’t move away. He slipped an arm around Cas’ waist, pulling him even closer. “You know, I used to think about you all the time, in that year when I was with them.” He whispered directly in Cas’ ear, “I used to have some really hot dreams about you.”
Cas gasped.
Dean pressed a kiss to his neck, before pulling back. “So what does the rest of this bonding process involve?”
“You have to help me groom my wings-“
“Told you that you needed help.”
“And we…” Cas trailed off, actually blushing.
“Have sex?” Dean supplied.
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t sound too difficult.”
“Dean,” Cas’ eyes were wide and pleading. “Being bonded to an angel, it’s like marriage, but for eternity.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Cas echoed.
“Look, I already told you that my life will never be normal. I think I finally realized when Sam and I were driving to that warehouse that I love you. Hell, I’ve spent the past five months either royally pissed off at you or wishing you were here. I think that counts for something.”
“Dean-“
“Stop talking and stop trying to change my mind.”
Dean stopped any further protests by kissing Cas. His lips were warm and soft, and he made a soft needy noise. And, God, he had a fantastic mouth and he was a quick learner. Dean pulled Cas completely into his lap, so the angel had one leg on either side of his hips.
“Let’s work on your wings,” Dean said, breathless, as he pulled away. Cas’ cheeks were flushed and his lips were kiss-swollen. He’d never looked better. “Then we’ll get to the good stuff.”
-------------------
The sun was shining warmly through the bedroom window and snow covered the ground outside. Bobby had finally run out of cabins in the woods, so they had taken the dive and rented a furnished cabin at a state park, using the ‘Smith’ IDs, naturally. They were still in Colorado, but far enough away from the original cabin that they were pretty sure the Leviathan weren’t on their trail. The heater in the room worked sporadically, off enough to make him shiver deliciously and snuggle closer to Cas. He did just that, rolling over and wrapping an arm around Cas’ waist. Cas sighed and settled against him.
“Good morning,” he murmured in Cas’ ear.
Nearly a month had passed since they rescued Cas from the warehouse-the angel was almost back to the normal. His wrist still bothered him, so Dean had been making him keep that wrapped. Cas still slept and ate-basically functioned as a human. Part of Dean wasn’t sure if he really needed to, or if the façade of being human was safer than facing what might be in Heaven. He hadn’t pushed the issue. Cas had been through major hell, and pissed off a lot of people-Dean would have changed his name and moved to Tahiti by now. Just that Cas was still here was something.
At least Cas had agreed to finish the bonding.
Dean grinned sappily just thinking about that. Shortly after Joshua left, Dean talked Cas into bringing out his wings. Cas had been doing a pretty crappy job by himself-Dean knew that. But he loved that Cas’ voice turned rough and wrecked when he talked him through the process. Which was little more than coating his hands in Cas’ oil and running them through his feathers, straightening the feathers in the process.
Cas’ mewled helplessly when he touched his oil glands, but practically keened when he ran his hands through the feathers.
And the sex… well, that was a bonus.
“Dean,” Cas said softly, sounding half-asleep.
They stayed quiet for a few moments, just their even breathing in the morning sunlight. Cas shifted restlessly against him.
“Cas?” Dean mumbled. “What’s up?” He pressed a kiss to his temple.
“Nothing.”
Dean pushed him away a little, so he could see his face. His ran a hand through his hair, before gently using his thumb to stroke his lower lip. “You sure? You thinking about Joshua or something?”
“No.”
That was a lie, but Dean didn’t call him on it. He just pulled him closer, breathing in his scent, like clean air and the ocean. Fortunately, since they completed the bonding process-and Dean didn’t really feel different-he’d learned how to distract Cas. “Look, don’t worry about it.” He smirked, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “You feel up to finishing what you started last night?”
Dean pushed Cas down into the bed. He went without question, his body already hot and flushed. Dean kissed him, wet and messy, with clashing teeth and tongues, and he tasted like coffee and mint and something else that was ineffably Cas, akin to cinnamon and apple pie. He smirked again when the made a helpless noise in the back of his throat. Dean broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to Cas’. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”
“Dean-“
“Shhh.”
He gently rearranged them on the bed, so he could kneel between Cas’ legs. He moved down his body, pressing a soothing kiss near his belly button. His hands gently massaged his thighs. Dean moved lower, lips brushing the inside of his thigh and then moving to his hip, sucking a mark on the skin. Cas let out a moan of pleasure. Dean had Cas where he wanted him-the angel desperately wanted him to touch his cock, which was hard, aching and leaking against his stomach. He practically keened when Dean’s lips left his hip and his fingers brushed his balls.
“Dean!” he cried, when the other man slid two fingers into his hole, already loose and slick.
“Jesus, Cas,” Dean breathed. “You’re still stretched and wet from last night.” He pushed his legs further apart. “You are so hot like this.”
“More,” he moaned.
Dean didn’t reply to that. He simply reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the bottle of lube. He flicked open the cap, the snick loud in the quiet morning. He poured some on his cock before closing the bottle and throwing it to the side. He lined up his cock and pushed in. Cas gasped, his body arching reactively into Dean’s.
He set the pace, fast and brutal. Dean hit his prostate on every thrust, the stabs of pleasure almost overwhelming.
Without warning, his orgasm overtook him and he came with a cry, spilling between his and Dean’s bodies. Dean followed him shortly after, hot inside him.
The few moments after were quiet and still, save for their labored breathing. Dean pulled out and Cas winced, but curled into him as Dean settled next to him. Dean wrapped both arms around him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I love you,” he murmured.
“I love you, too,” Cas replied.
After a few more moments of silence, Cas suddenly said, “I’m staying here.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Cas, think about this. You heard Joshua and, as much as I’d love to just stay in bed with you all day, we both know-“
Cas silenced him, laying a finger on his lips. “I know what you’re thinking and I can’t go back. Not yet.”
“Will you ever be ready?”
“I don’t know.”
“Cas, sometimes you don’t feel ready for something ever and you just have to-“
“I know.”
--------------------
By New Year’s, Dean had a full-fledged angel boyfriend who was helping rebuild Heaven and managed to be home-or the motel of the week-for dinner every night.
--------------------
They decided to lay low during spring break in Miami-the angels had been slowly smoking the Leviathan with some new and improved Heaven weapons. Crowley kept all the demons in Hell and to their tasks, not wanting Cas to get pissy with him now that he was back in Heaven. Bobby was hiding in the hotel and they were on the beach.
Sam asked, “So when is the wedding?”
“Huh?”
“You and Cas. When’s the wedding?”
“I think we’re already sort of married.”
“Oh. Congrats.” Sam paused before asking, “So is he joining us here?”
“Hell, yes. I bought him a bathing suit and everything.”
“Am I going to need eye bleach?”
“You won’t see it.”
“Thank God. Good to see you’re still a romantic.”
“Hey, call me hopeless, but not romantic.”
Yeah, so he had his brother, Leviathan were being destroyed or shoved back into Purgatory, and he had Cas… life was good.
Fin.
Title: Call Me Hopeless, But Not Romantic
Author: etcetera_kit
Recipient: artmetica
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 7166
Warnings: Torture, smut, language, incorrectly calculated driving distances
Spoilers: Definite spoilers for 7.01 and 7.02, but vague spoilers up to 7.08
Summary: Dean assumes Cas died when the Leviathan took over his vessel, but Crowley arrives and informs him that his birdies say otherwise. His life was never meant to be normal, but Crowley’s information sends him down a twisted road of redemption.
Author’s Notes: Thanks to my wolf pack, jilli_rose, for alpha and beta reading. I was thrown for a loop with no specific prompts, but I hope this hits some of your likes and that you enjoy it, artmetica! The title is borrowed from the Mayday Parade song of the same name.
“Cas is not alive. The Leviathan fucking killed him and then melted his vessel!”
“Well, I hear he’s not.”
“Listen to me, you little son of a bitch-“
“I don’t understand why you’re so tense, darling. This is supposed to be good news. Everyone knows you’re in love with that grubby little angel.”
“Crowley, if you open your mouth again-“
“Think about who you’re threatening. King of Hell, remember?”
“Dean, let’s think about this.”
Dean whirled around to face Sam. “No, Sam,” he ground out. “Let’s not think about this. Cas went completely off the rails and died, and now we’re going to listen to Crowley? How many times has this bastard screwed us over?”
Sam sighed. “I know how much you miss him.”
“I do not miss Crowley.”
“Cas, you moron!”
“I do not miss Cas!”
“Then why do you cuddle with his damn trench coat every night?”
“I do not.”
Crowley snickered. Dean turned back to him, glaring. The former crossroads demon just shrugged and smirked. “Denial is so adorable on you.”
“What do you know?” Sam asked.
The three of them were in Bobby’s basement. Or what was left of Bobby’s basement. The Leviathan melted the whole place really well, but Bobby had a few black boxes hidden with copies of ancient texts, rare artifacts and weapons-essentially, things that they were going to need if they had any chance of sending the Leviathan back where they belonged.
And all of this shit was Cas’ fault, so why did Crowley think he was interested in finding Cas? And why did everyone in the room think he was in love with Cas? Weirdoes. They obviously watched too much HBO. Or Glee. Possibly both.
“As you all know, I hate those dicks-“
“We know,” Dean groused.
“Then you also know that I have little birdies everywhere who tell me things.”
Sam put a hand on Dean’s arm. Dean had been about to take a swing at Crowley. Limey asshole always spent too much time talking and not enough time getting to the point. And apparently his Lance Armstrong of a brother had enough patience to deal with the antics. “And your spies told you what, exactly?” Sam prompted.
“We’ve been staking out a warehouse outside of Butte, Montana. Lots of Leviathan activity there. But we can’t really tell what they’re up to.” He gave them an address.
“And?”
Crowley had the nerve to look annoyed at Sam hurrying him to the point. “And,” he echoed. “One of my birdies got close enough to get a glimpse inside the warehouse. Lots of dungeons. Nasty business.” Crowley shuddered theatrically. “But before his eyes burned out, he saw an angel chained in one of the cells. Same vessel as our dear backstabbing angel, but they had some mojo going on that forced his wings to manifest.”
“Melted eyes?” Sam asked.
“Wings?” Dean commented at the same time.
Crowley shrugged again. “I wouldn’t worry about that. Low level minion’s eyes burned out. You and I would probably be fine. Takes a low level of grace for wings to manifest.”
Dean didn’t even want to know how Crowley knew that.
“Anyways,” Crowley continued. “Thought you two might like to know that. Despite all the drama, Dean still appears to be in love with him.”
“I am not.”
“Trench coat, darling. Your brother already ousted you.”
“I will kill you,” Dean spat through clenched teeth.
“You could try. But then who would keep rogue crossroads demons from going amuck on you?”
Dean really, really hated to admit that they were both right. Theoretically. He’d never analyzed his feelings about Cas, just assumed that the nerdy little angel would keep coming back and being around. He’d always been there to help them, always took their side, and even put up with all the insults that Dean hurled his way. And then he got himself tangled up with Crowley and a civil war that he couldn’t win.
And didn’t listen when Dean told him he was going down the wrong path.
He remembered Cas’ eyes right before they got him to put the majority of the souls back into Purgatory. Regret like that couldn’t be faked-and Dean knew, he’d tried. Cas really was sorry and knew how badly he fucked up. And right before they realized that the Leviathan had hung on inside of Cas, Dean knew that he wasn’t getting rid of the angel, because Cas was going to do anything to make things right with him (and to a lesser extent, Sam.)
For a microsecond, Dean had pictured a near future where Cas never went away and brought him bacon cheeseburgers and beer all the time. (Although Cas would probably start with flowers or something else equally as ridiculous that he saw on TV.) He’d help with hunts, fix the wall in Sam’s head, and Dean would eventually forgive him, because, hell, he hadn’t been lying when he said Cas was like a brother to him and was family.
Now all he had left was a fucking trench coat, along with Crowley and Sam who apparently knew the real extent of his feelings for Cas. If they knew, who the hell else knew?
Come on, he was Dean Winchester. He did not sleep with or fall in love with other dudes.
Except he did.
Fuck.
“Anyways, this has been fun. But I really need to dash. Minions to keep in line and all of that. You understand.”
And Crowley was gone.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between him and Sam for a couple of long seconds.
After what felt like several decades, Sam cleared his throat and said, “So, Butte?”
“Yeah,” Dean replied roughly.
“Want me to drive?”
“Fuck no.”
--------------------
Sioux Falls to Butte was a twelve hour drive. Dean made the trip in ten. Most of the drive was spent in silence, other than Sam asking the obligatory, “So do we have a plan?”
“We’re getting Cas out.”
“So what? We go get a ton of borax and go in the front door?”
“We’ve had worse plans.”
Sam let out a long-suffering sigh and pulled out his laptop and aircard. An hour later, he had done his nerd thing and pulled up the blueprints for the warehouse, owner records and a dozen other useful factoids for storming the castle, as it were. Dean supposed, since Sam was doing his whole Zen Lance Armstrong thing, he wasn’t as bitter about the wall in his head being torn down. The kid kept kicking at the wall, so Dean guessed that he was probably doing better knowing everything anyways. Hell, they’d all take turns punching Cas after they rescued him.
“The place used to be a meat packing plant, slaughterhouse, the whole nine yards,” Sam explained.
“In Montana?” Dean shrugged. “I guess mountain men need to hunt something.”
Sam continued like he hadn’t even heard the comment. “From the blueprints, I’d guess that the Leviathan converted some of the old holding pens into cells for prisoners. Crowley said that the demon saw into a window from the outside, which means that the holding pens are probably our best bet for a starting point.”
“Okay.”
His younger brother gave him a classic concerned bitchface. “Dean, are you all right? I mean, trying to break Cas out of this is almost like a suicide mission. Who knows why the Leviathan have him, but it can’t be good.”
“It’s Cas, Sam. We have to try.”
“No, I agree. It’s just-you’re very determined here.”
“Please do not bring up the trench coat.”
“You brought it up this time.”
Dean resisted the urge to stick his tongue out. He’d spent the last three months believing that Cas was dead and not that he knew differently… he didn’t give up on family. They were getting Cas back and they were taking him somewhere-the cabin near here or another one of Bobby’s hiding places. Hell, Bobby might even be interested in seeing Cas again (after they all got in line to punch him, of course.)
The rest of the drive was spent in true silence. Dean was busy driving on back roads like a maniac and Sam was trying to finish his Internet recon before his computer died. They pulled into Butte after midnight. The town was tiny-they’d driven through on some other Montana jobs. Like most small towns, everything closed by nine and there were a ton of Mom and Pop restaurants and tourist shops. And, because this was Montana, every restaurant had huckleberry something-pancakes, ice cream sundaes, pie… they’d need to get huckleberry something while they were here.
“The warehouse is on the edge of town,” Sam said quietly. He gave Dean simple driving directions to the outskirts of the tiny town. They passed the ridiculously small airport, his mind noted almost hysterically.
Since there was not much in Butte, finding a place to park and not be noticed by the Leviathan in the warehouse was a little difficult. But Dean found a place amongst some trees that would give them a good view of the warehouse.
“Seems to be quiet,” Sam commented after he fished some binoculars from the backseat and got a good view of the building.
“That’s never good.”
“I don’t know. Maybe they don’t know demons are spying on them.”
Dean frowned at Sam. “You really think they’re that arrogant?”
“Death said they were ancient. Maybe they don’t think angels or demons pose any sort of threat to them.”
“Why does everyone make that mistake?” Dean muttered.
“Yeah, they’re hunting us.” Sam snorted. “It’s almost flattering that they think we’re the threat and not the other supernatural things.”
“Whatever.”
Sam studied the building for a few more seconds. “There,” he said, pointing to the east side of the warehouse. “The holding pens were there, so if a demon saw in the window, then that’s the most likely place.”
“Okay. Let’s hope they haven’t decided to move Cas somewhere else.”
They’d stopped quickly sometime before Montana and stocked up on all the essentials with borax in them. Mostly laundry detergent, which Dean preferred because they weren’t covered in an acrid chemical smell, but were daisy fresh. (Or something like that.)
They got out of the car and went to the trunk. Sam had jokingly suggested squirt guns for the laundry detergent, and Dean had told him to shut-up and hurry up. Now, that didn’t seem like a bad plan. They each loaded a couple machetes and the detergent into a duffel bag. Dean brought a shotgun, just in case. He always felt better with a few guns, even though he knew that guns were worthless in a fight with a Leviathan.
The warehouse remained quiet as they walked up towards the east side. The place had probably been nice once, with sidewalks and landscaping. Now, most of the plants were dead and the sidewalk looked like it had gone a couple rounds with a sledgehammer, but the building still appeared to be in decent condition.
Christ, he wanted Cas back so badly he could taste it. When the Leviathan said Cas was dead, he just kind of accepted it as a raw, ugly truth. Like when Dad died, or Jo and Ellen, or Ash, or Rufus… he’d never even thought about those moments leading up to the Leviathan taking over Cas’ vessel. He’d been unconscious and stunned after sending the souls back, but then he healed his vessel and stood up. When the Leviathan took him into the lake, all Dean got was the trench coat, but there were no nasty bits, like a melted or exploded human had been wearing the coat. Cas was strong-not stronger than the Leviathan, but once they left his vessel, Dean should have believed that he’d be able to heal his vessel. Get away.
And Dean felt a huge pang of guilt, because, once again, he’d left Cas behind.
The security lights were on around the warehouse. They walked to the various windows-barred. Everything was higher up. They needed an access point.
“Dean.” He turned towards Sam. He pointed towards an emergency exit past the barred windows.
Better than nothing. They walked quickly along the side of the building to the door.
Which was open.
Okay, either the Leviathan were very secure with the knowledge that no one else knew about this particular hiding spot, or this was a trap and they had anticipated the whole thing. He hoped it was the latter. He’d settle for something in between. He was a huge schmuck because the latter was probably the case, and all three of them-him and Sam and Cas-were going to end up dead.
Must be Tuesday.
They moved into the building. Only the emergency lights were on in the hall, which was pretty good news-they didn’t have to use flashlights and attract attention to themselves. Most of the cells were empty, but the lights were on in one, and soft voices came from the cell. Dean frowned, the noises all too much like Hell.
“Please…”
“Shut-up. You brought this on yourself.”
“I can’t-“
“You are just a stupid, greedy angel. You know we’re older than you.”
The two gloating voices continued, right along with the cries of pain. God, they were in there doing… well, Dean could picture some things and each was worse than the last. He reached into his duffel bag to pull out the borax and watched Sam do the same from the corner of his eye.
They reached the cell door. The hall appeared clear and the only two Leviathan around seemed to be the ones in Cas’ cell.
Dean glanced around the corner of the door. Luckily, the Leviathan were occupied with… shit. They’d obviously forced Cas to reveal his wings-and had punctured his wings with meat hooks to suspend them across the room. Cas was chained to the floor by a collar. He was too thin and dirty and had been beaten more ways… but what those bastards had done to his wings. Dean was going to kill all of them.
He rushed into the room and splashed both Leviathan with the detergent. Sam followed, efficient beheading both. Two seconds and both were incapacitated.
Dean dropped the detergent and crossed the room to Cas. The angel appeared to be going in and out consciousness. “Hey,” he said, cupping Cas’ face between his hands. “Cas? Can you hear me?” Those blue eyes slowly lifted from the floor to his face.
“Dean?” Cas asked. “Are you real?”
“Very.” Dean glanced down the span of each of his wings. Cas wasn’t standing-he was slumped forward and his wings were very obviously carrying his weight. Cas needed to stand in order for them to get the meat hooks out. He ran a hand through Cas’ hair. “Come on, you need to stand so we can get you out of here.”
“I can’t,” Cas choked out, tears slipping down his cheeks. “It hurts too much.”
The angel was shirtless, but was still wearing the black slacks. One foot appeared swollen-Dean would have to strip him down later to assess all the damage. “Come on, Cas, grab my shoulders. I need you to be upright so Sam can get the hooks out.”
“I-“
Dean wrapped an arm around Cas’ waist and lifted him. He sobbed. Sam finished dousing the heads in detergent and joined them. He pulled one of the hooks free. Cas’ face was pressed against Dean’s neck and he only sobbed harder when the hooks came out.
“Hang in there,” Dean murmured. “We’ll get you someplace safe. You’ll be fine.”
Sam finished the hooks on one wing and moved to the other. Cas had moved one arm, so he was clinging to Dean, but the other arm he held against his chest. The collar of Dean’s shirt was soaked from tears and sweat, and he really didn’t care. Cas was a warm, solid weight, real and in his arms. Sam was working as quickly as he could, but Cas was shaking and the hooks had apparently been there for some time.
The moment the last hook came out, Cas slumped forward completely, wings folding against his back, his entire weight on Dean. “Sam,” Dean called. “Help me get him to the car.”
The place remained quiet while they hauled Cas to the car. The angel cried out as Dean laid him in the backseat and then climbed in with him. Sam grabbed the keys and slipped in the driver’s seat.
“Dean…”
Cas’ voice was weak and wrecked.
“It’s okay. It’s over.”
But he wasn’t sure that anything would ever be over.
--------------------
“We need to take him to a hospital!”
“And say what? His wings are infected?”
“We’ve got to do something, Dean! That infection isn’t just going away!”
“What are we supposed to do?”
“Find another angel. Joshua, maybe?” Sam threw up his hands and continued pacing in the living room of the small cabin in Nebraska.
“Come on, Sam. He smoked Raphael and we don’t know what he did when we were holed up at Bobby’s, so I don’t know if there is another angel to help him.”
Dean sank down onto the couch and looked at his hands. He didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t thought much further than getting Cas out. Turned out that his first scenario had been right-the Leviathan were convinced that no one knew about their Montana hide-out. They’d had to move Cas three times since then, and the angel got weaker each time. And the Leviathan were pissed about losing the live angel they had to torture and question.
Only ten days had passed, but each day felt like a century. Dean hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time, mostly in a chair near Cas. He spent most of his time trying to patch up Cas’ wings and assessing the rest of his injuries. The first night in Montana, Dean stripped Cas down and got a good look at his injuries. The worst damage was to his wings-the white feathers were gray from dirt and grime, with huge puncture wounds. Even the undamaged parts of the wings had places bare of feathers. Dean didn’t know much about wings, but that didn’t look good.
Cas also had a broken wrist and foot. His ribs were bruised, and he had cuts and bruises all over. Dean made Cas lay down on the bed in the cabin, on his stomach, his wings spread over each side of the bed. Cas was mostly beyond arguing and obviously in pain. He just listened to Dean’s soft orders. Dean frowned at the hand-shaped bruises on Cas’ hips.
“Cas, did they-“
He couldn’t even finish the sentence. And Cas’ soft sob was answer enough.
Bobby arrived a few hours after them. Dean just sat by Cas on the bed, gently trying to clean him up and work on wrapping his foot and wrist. He got some ice on the foot. He didn’t want to touch the wings until he, Bobby and Sam had a powwow. When Bobby showed up, he stood to talk to him. Cas grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t leave me alone,” he whispered.
It took twenty minutes for Dean to convince Cas he was just going into the next room and would be back in less than five minutes.
“Remember when he was hungover?” Sam asked, bringing Dean back to the present.
“Yeah. Took a liquor store to get him drunk and a whole bottle of aspirin to help with the hangover.”
“So human medicine worked, just he needed way more.”
“Yes.”
“We’re going to break into a hospital and get what?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to do some research.”
“Whatever.” Dean stood up.
The Nebraska cabin, unlike the one in Montana, had only two rooms-the main room with a couch, table and chairs, and kitchen, and the bedroom. Cas was in the bedroom. Dean just left Sam in the living room and went into the bedroom.
Cas was lying on the bed, on his stomach, wings spread out. He was wearing an old pair of Dean’s pajama bottoms. Since he couldn’t retract his wings into his vessel because they were too injured, Cas hadn’t been wearing a shirt. After the infection set in, he was feverish and alternately hot and cold. Dean had been wrapping blankets around his back and chest when he got cold. He also figured since he was so injured, he’d need to eat, drink and sleep. Which mostly proved true. Cas tended to be a little less feverish and had better days when he stayed hydrated and ate what Dean gave him.
“Hey,” Dean said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. He ran his fingers through Cas’ sweat-damp hair.
“Dean?” Cas tried to shift closer to him, wings rustling. As he moved, he made a low, pained noise.
“Come on. Don’t move.” He tried for a stern tone, but his words mostly came out as concerned. He shifted closer to Cas, letting the angel curl up against his leg, one wing practically in his lap.
“I’m hot,” Cas mumbled against the denim of his jeans.
“I know.”
Since the fever set in, Cas had been delirious half the time, having nightmares that ended with him screaming. They hadn’t been able to have a conversation with Cas about what to do about his wings-and when Cas was lucid, he was more likely to tell them to let him die.
“Man, you’ve got to give us something,” Dean said softly, fingers still running through Cas’ hair. “Sam’s about to plan a hospital heist to get some prescription grade medication. And since we’re back on the FBI’s radar, I don’t know if that’s such a hot idea.”
Cas made an unintelligible noise.
“Cas,” Dean continued. “I’m not leaving you behind again. You’re family-and we’ve all pulled some pretty fucked up shit. Just… I don’t want you to die. Not after all this.”
He’d told Cas the same thing every day-he just wondered when Cas would start to believe him.
And that was the real problem, wasn’t it? Cas was afraid that the moment he got better, he’d go back to being their back-up, the guy they only called when they were in a bind or needed extra muscle. Before the Apocalypse that never was, Cas had been Dean’s friend-and a damn good friend. He rebelled and fell for Dean, and, after all of that, he went back to Heaven and Dean didn’t bother trying to find him for a year.
“You’re practically a Winchester,” Dean whispered. “Hell, you are a Winchester. Just tell me how to fix this. You can stay here-I’ll hide you from whatever you’re afraid of.”
“I know,” Cas replied after a long moment.
“Cas-“
“Be quiet,” the angel said, with a hint of the old ‘I will smite your ass’ attitude back in his voice. “I need to pray.”
“Do you want me to go?”
“No.”
Cas settled down like he was sleeping. Dean wasn’t much for praying, unless it was a desperate cry for help (that usually went ignored) or to ask Cas for something, so he didn’t know the mechanics, but he guessed flat on one’s face was legitimate.
After a few minutes, Cas’ breathing evened out and Dean figured he really was sleeping. He pulled the blankets up around Cas and tucked him in, in case he got cold while he slept. He slipped out of the room.
Bobby had gotten back from the supply run, and he was looking over Sam’s shoulder at the computer screen.
“You find something?” he asked.
Sam looked up. “Is he asleep?”
“Said something about needing to pray, but I think he fell asleep in the middle.”
“Some prayer,” Bobby snorted.
“Yeah,” Dean replied, before nodding at the laptop. “Seriously. You find something.”
“There’re a couple of antibiotic treatments that doctors use for infected wounds.” Sam tapped a few keys. “I think there’s enough at Lincoln General.”
“Getting it is going to be a bitch, though,” Bobby added. “Only certain hospital staff can get to that kind of stuff and we’ll need fake IDs, the works. Could take a couple of days.”
The comment went unspoken-they weren’t sure if Cas had a few days.
“Do it,” Dean said. “When do we leave?”
Bobby gave him an almost exasperated expression. “Dean, you need to stay here with Cas.”
“If this can help him-“
“You’re the only one he listens to,” Bobby interrupted. “And the only one he talks to or responds to. So you stay here.” At Dean’s stunned look, he added, “What? You hadn’t noticed that?”
Honestly, no, he hadn’t noticed that, but since he’d spent every waking moment with Cas, how was he supposed to?
“We’ll take care of the drugs,” Sam said softly. “Can you go get Cas to drink some water?”
He’d have to wake Cas up, but, sure.
Since he’d been effectively dismissed from the hospital raid, he turned and went back into the bedroom. Cas was still asleep, fidgeting and murmuring. Dean just sighed and took his place on the edge of the bed again. Ten days and he felt like he’d aged ten years.
--------------------
When Cas woke up the next morning, all he said was, “Joshua says that Sam’s plan will work.”
“Did he say anything else?” Dean replied, voice rough from sleep.
Cas didn’t reply.
--------------------
“Okay, we need to find a vein.”
Since everything Dean knew about medicine came from Dr. Sexy, MD and from trying to patch himself up, he figured he’d punt to Sam on this one. (Although Sam’s knowledge probably came from ER and Nip/Tuck.) Bobby had been in the military at one point, so he probably had the best idea of what to do.
All of this would be going much better if Cas didn’t look terrified of the idea of a needle in his arm. The angel was lying face down in Dean’s lap, arms tucked under him, shaking so hard Dean could feel the tremors.
“No,” Cas was practically crying.
“Joshua said this would help,” Dean tried comforting him. “It’s not so bad.”
Bobby and Sam were jury-rigging the IV. Dean gently ran his fingers through his hair. He never got sympathy for being afraid of needles or much of anything else as a kid. So he learned to take the bad stuff and move on. Dean never imagined Cas would be afraid of anything, but they really had no idea exactly what the Leviathan did to Cas.
“Cas, just put your arm out,” Dean told him. “I’ll stay with you.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
Arguing with Cas was like arguing with a wall. He gently pulled one of Cas’ arms out from under his chest, surprised that Cas allowed himself to be manhandled. He turned Cas’ arm for Bobby and Sam to do their thing. He kept one hand in Cas’ hair and the other on the bicep of his outstretched arm, to help keep him in place.
In retrospect, Bobby did an excellent job of getting the IV in quickly and taping it down. In the moment, it took both Dean and Sam to hold Cas down.
Cas was openly sobbing against Dean when they were done, and Dean just held him close, trying to let him know that this was all right, he’d be fine soon.
The first IV drip seemed to take forever. Cas couldn’t relax and clung to Dean (probably so he wouldn’t rip the needle out.) Although, after the first one, Cas seemed less feverish and the wounds on his wings were not as swollen. Dean did the only thing he could think of-he sang Hey Jude while trying to rock Cas, even though they were in a relatively awkward position.
By end of the second round of antibiotics, the infection in the wings was nearly gone and Dean could see that in a few hours, those wounds would be healed completely.
Hoarse and exhausted, Dean finally fell into a fitful sleep.
--------------------
“The Leviathan are onto us again. Someone was following me at the grocery store.”
“I don’t know if we should move Cas, he’s still-“
“We have to. Or we’ll all be chew toys.”
“All right, fine. I’ll get him ready.”
--------------------
“Hello, Dean. I need to speak to Castiel.”
Dean jolted awake. They’d move to another one of Bobby’s hideouts-of which, he seemed to have a never-ending supply. (He suspected some of them were Rufus’ and, since Rufus had no will, Bobby had taken them over.) This time they were in Colorado. Bobby’s other suggestion had been Texas, but Dean couldn’t imagine the humidity would be good for Cas’ wings.
His wings had healed-the wounds were gone. The places where the wounds had been were still bare of feathers and the skin looked dry and chapped. Cas had explained that he needed to groom the wings, but that was difficult. Angels apparently helped each other with that part of the process. Dean had offered to help and Cas had told him no.
Three weeks since Crowley had joined them in Sioux Falls and sent them on the Cas hunt.
And Cas’ foot and wrist still weren’t completely healed.
Joshua was standing at the foot of the bed. Since Cas’ wings didn’t have gaping wounds, he would retract them into his vessel and had been only bringing them out to groom them. Dean hadn’t gone back to sleeping in his own bed after spending too many nights with a feverish Cas. And the angel hadn’t insisted he leave (although he probably would have protested if Dean did try to sleep somewhere else.) Sam and Bobby were keeping their mouths shut, which meant Dean got pretend that he and Cas were just friends for a little while.
“Alone, please, Dean.”
“Okay.” Dean sat up and shook Cas awake.
“Joshua?”
“I’ll be just outside if you need something,” Dean told Cas.
Cas nodded, looking sleep-worn and exhausted.
Dean slipped out of bed and went into the kitchen. He glanced at his watch-five-thirty in the morning. He put on a pot of coffee and waited while it brewed. Sam and Bobby were asleep upstairs. His stomach felt tight at the idea of Cas talking to Joshua. Granted, Cas hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone from Heaven and, if Dean was really honest with himself, anyone outside of him. He was fine with protecting Cas and Sam could definitely attest to him being overprotective, but Cas needed to come out of his shell and do something.
He glanced out the window. This time of year, snow was thick on the ground in Colorado. The last time he’d had a decent Christmas had been the year before he went to Hell and he practically had to browbeat Sam into going along with the tree and food and presents. Cas never was around to celebrate Christmas with them and, while none of the recent ones were that stellar, they still got a day off to celebrate and eat too much.
Dean could manage to put something together this year. They had an oven and cooking a turkey wasn’t rocket science. Between him, Sam and Bobby, they could come up with a meal. They couldn’t do presents, but who really needed presents?
He took a mug out of a cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee. The stuff was a cheap store brand and tasted a little like battery acid, but that might have been the pot.
“Dean?” Joshua was in the doorway of the room. “Can you join us, please?”
“Sure.” He pushed off the counter, coffee mug in hand and followed Joshua back into the bedroom.
Cas was sitting on the bed, knees drawn to his chest, the blankets pooled around him. He looked small and terrified. Dean wanted to pull him into his arms and fix this.
“Dean,” Joshua said softly. “Heaven is in shambles. All who could ascend to become the next leader are trapped in the Cage or are dead.” He gave a sad smile. “You know that Crowley is keeping a tight grip on his demons while the Leviathan walk the Earth.”
“Can angels or demons stop the Leviathan?” Dean asked.
“Leviathan are ancient. They are older than angels and demons. We cannot allow them to take over Earth, but we also are not ready to fight them. We need to study them-some items you have already helped with. But we also need a leader.”
“Why not you?”
“I tend the Garden. And I speak to God. I am not the leader we need.”
Dean glanced to Cas, still almost catatonic. “And Cas is?”
“He’s broken, but not hopeless.” Joshua shook his head. “We all make the wrong choice at one time or another. We learn from those choices. Castiel does not need redemption from Heaven-that he already has. He needs redemption from his friends here.”
“What?” Dean gaped at Cas. He knew the angel had been having problems with Sam and Bobby, but Cas had to know they were all fine, right? Hell, he wouldn’t have saved Cas’ ass-and Sam wouldn’t have helped-if they didn’t care about him. “We’re fine, Cas, believe me.”
“Dean,” Joshua interrupted. “How much do you know about angel bonding?”
“About what?”
“I thought so.” Joshua’s expression turned bemused. He gave Cas a sharp look. “Shame on you for not telling him sooner.”
Dean figured he now looked like a fish out of water. “Bonding?”
“When angels bond with another-which can be another angel or a human-they usually leave a mark on their mate.” Joshua gestured towards the handprint scar on Dean’s shoulder. Without thinking, he reached up and covered the scar with his own hand. “There are other steps in the process, but Castiel can tell you more about those.”
“Oh.” Huh. Bonding?
“I must get back.” He turned to Cas. “I hope to see you soon, brother.”
And Joshua was gone.
Dean stared at Cas. “Bonding?”
Cas finally looked up, lowering his arms and pushing his legs forward. “I didn’t think you’d want it, so I never finished the process.”
“You ever think to ask me what I want?” Dean asked, stepping towards the bed.
“I thought you wanted a normal life with Lisa and Ben,” Cas replied in a small voice.
“My life is never going to be normal.” He sat down on the bed next to Cas. The angel tensed, but didn’t move away. He slipped an arm around Cas’ waist, pulling him even closer. “You know, I used to think about you all the time, in that year when I was with them.” He whispered directly in Cas’ ear, “I used to have some really hot dreams about you.”
Cas gasped.
Dean pressed a kiss to his neck, before pulling back. “So what does the rest of this bonding process involve?”
“You have to help me groom my wings-“
“Told you that you needed help.”
“And we…” Cas trailed off, actually blushing.
“Have sex?” Dean supplied.
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t sound too difficult.”
“Dean,” Cas’ eyes were wide and pleading. “Being bonded to an angel, it’s like marriage, but for eternity.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Cas echoed.
“Look, I already told you that my life will never be normal. I think I finally realized when Sam and I were driving to that warehouse that I love you. Hell, I’ve spent the past five months either royally pissed off at you or wishing you were here. I think that counts for something.”
“Dean-“
“Stop talking and stop trying to change my mind.”
Dean stopped any further protests by kissing Cas. His lips were warm and soft, and he made a soft needy noise. And, God, he had a fantastic mouth and he was a quick learner. Dean pulled Cas completely into his lap, so the angel had one leg on either side of his hips.
“Let’s work on your wings,” Dean said, breathless, as he pulled away. Cas’ cheeks were flushed and his lips were kiss-swollen. He’d never looked better. “Then we’ll get to the good stuff.”
-------------------
The sun was shining warmly through the bedroom window and snow covered the ground outside. Bobby had finally run out of cabins in the woods, so they had taken the dive and rented a furnished cabin at a state park, using the ‘Smith’ IDs, naturally. They were still in Colorado, but far enough away from the original cabin that they were pretty sure the Leviathan weren’t on their trail. The heater in the room worked sporadically, off enough to make him shiver deliciously and snuggle closer to Cas. He did just that, rolling over and wrapping an arm around Cas’ waist. Cas sighed and settled against him.
“Good morning,” he murmured in Cas’ ear.
Nearly a month had passed since they rescued Cas from the warehouse-the angel was almost back to the normal. His wrist still bothered him, so Dean had been making him keep that wrapped. Cas still slept and ate-basically functioned as a human. Part of Dean wasn’t sure if he really needed to, or if the façade of being human was safer than facing what might be in Heaven. He hadn’t pushed the issue. Cas had been through major hell, and pissed off a lot of people-Dean would have changed his name and moved to Tahiti by now. Just that Cas was still here was something.
At least Cas had agreed to finish the bonding.
Dean grinned sappily just thinking about that. Shortly after Joshua left, Dean talked Cas into bringing out his wings. Cas had been doing a pretty crappy job by himself-Dean knew that. But he loved that Cas’ voice turned rough and wrecked when he talked him through the process. Which was little more than coating his hands in Cas’ oil and running them through his feathers, straightening the feathers in the process.
Cas’ mewled helplessly when he touched his oil glands, but practically keened when he ran his hands through the feathers.
And the sex… well, that was a bonus.
“Dean,” Cas said softly, sounding half-asleep.
They stayed quiet for a few moments, just their even breathing in the morning sunlight. Cas shifted restlessly against him.
“Cas?” Dean mumbled. “What’s up?” He pressed a kiss to his temple.
“Nothing.”
Dean pushed him away a little, so he could see his face. His ran a hand through his hair, before gently using his thumb to stroke his lower lip. “You sure? You thinking about Joshua or something?”
“No.”
That was a lie, but Dean didn’t call him on it. He just pulled him closer, breathing in his scent, like clean air and the ocean. Fortunately, since they completed the bonding process-and Dean didn’t really feel different-he’d learned how to distract Cas. “Look, don’t worry about it.” He smirked, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “You feel up to finishing what you started last night?”
Dean pushed Cas down into the bed. He went without question, his body already hot and flushed. Dean kissed him, wet and messy, with clashing teeth and tongues, and he tasted like coffee and mint and something else that was ineffably Cas, akin to cinnamon and apple pie. He smirked again when the made a helpless noise in the back of his throat. Dean broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to Cas’. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”
“Dean-“
“Shhh.”
He gently rearranged them on the bed, so he could kneel between Cas’ legs. He moved down his body, pressing a soothing kiss near his belly button. His hands gently massaged his thighs. Dean moved lower, lips brushing the inside of his thigh and then moving to his hip, sucking a mark on the skin. Cas let out a moan of pleasure. Dean had Cas where he wanted him-the angel desperately wanted him to touch his cock, which was hard, aching and leaking against his stomach. He practically keened when Dean’s lips left his hip and his fingers brushed his balls.
“Dean!” he cried, when the other man slid two fingers into his hole, already loose and slick.
“Jesus, Cas,” Dean breathed. “You’re still stretched and wet from last night.” He pushed his legs further apart. “You are so hot like this.”
“More,” he moaned.
Dean didn’t reply to that. He simply reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the bottle of lube. He flicked open the cap, the snick loud in the quiet morning. He poured some on his cock before closing the bottle and throwing it to the side. He lined up his cock and pushed in. Cas gasped, his body arching reactively into Dean’s.
He set the pace, fast and brutal. Dean hit his prostate on every thrust, the stabs of pleasure almost overwhelming.
Without warning, his orgasm overtook him and he came with a cry, spilling between his and Dean’s bodies. Dean followed him shortly after, hot inside him.
The few moments after were quiet and still, save for their labored breathing. Dean pulled out and Cas winced, but curled into him as Dean settled next to him. Dean wrapped both arms around him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I love you,” he murmured.
“I love you, too,” Cas replied.
After a few more moments of silence, Cas suddenly said, “I’m staying here.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Cas, think about this. You heard Joshua and, as much as I’d love to just stay in bed with you all day, we both know-“
Cas silenced him, laying a finger on his lips. “I know what you’re thinking and I can’t go back. Not yet.”
“Will you ever be ready?”
“I don’t know.”
“Cas, sometimes you don’t feel ready for something ever and you just have to-“
“I know.”
--------------------
By New Year’s, Dean had a full-fledged angel boyfriend who was helping rebuild Heaven and managed to be home-or the motel of the week-for dinner every night.
--------------------
They decided to lay low during spring break in Miami-the angels had been slowly smoking the Leviathan with some new and improved Heaven weapons. Crowley kept all the demons in Hell and to their tasks, not wanting Cas to get pissy with him now that he was back in Heaven. Bobby was hiding in the hotel and they were on the beach.
Sam asked, “So when is the wedding?”
“Huh?”
“You and Cas. When’s the wedding?”
“I think we’re already sort of married.”
“Oh. Congrats.” Sam paused before asking, “So is he joining us here?”
“Hell, yes. I bought him a bathing suit and everything.”
“Am I going to need eye bleach?”
“You won’t see it.”
“Thank God. Good to see you’re still a romantic.”
“Hey, call me hopeless, but not romantic.”
Yeah, so he had his brother, Leviathan were being destroyed or shoved back into Purgatory, and he had Cas… life was good.
Fin.