Fiction: Your Time Will Come - Supernatural - 1/2 - Dean/Castiel - R
Title: Your Time Will Come
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: R
Warnings: For violence
Spoilers: up to season four
Word Count: 11,800
Notes/Prompt(s): Written for the Renegade Angel Secret Angel exchange for aesc who wanted Castiel and Sam have to put aside their differences (I wonder if Sam still has some lingering resentment over Castiel being unable to heal Dean in 4.16?) to find/help Dean who has been captured/hurt/lost/whatever. Thanks to my beta readers L, and A and H. You were all invaluable. This story was written a few months back before Season 5 started, so my Lucifer is nothing like the one on the show. I'm rather proud of my Lucifer and I enjoyed writing him. I haven't had a chance to look this over for errors, so I apologize in advance for remaining mistakes.
Disclaimer: Supernatural is the property of Eric Kripke. No infringement is meant.
Summary: In which Dean rushes off to fight Lucifer. Sam tries to force Castiel to help. Castiel keeps saying it isn't time, and Bobby just thinks they're all crazy.
It had been three months since Lucifer rose.
Dean walked past the pillar with his gun ready. It was a trap. They all knew it was a trap. Sam had begged him not to go. Castiel had rushed off with a flurry of wings, possibly angry. Dean wasn't sure because he'd never seen the angel show much in the way of emotions. Bobby had threatened to tie him up, but Dean was stubborn and he wanted this over. Hell had come to earth, literally, and Dean was the reason. He'd also been told that he was the only one who could stop this.
Dean fired the shotgun at a crash to his left. His right hand screamed with pain. He was sure that he'd broken three of his fingers last time. He clenched his jaw and ignored the pain, and tried not to think about the fact that he was here alone. He tried to forget that he'd snuck away in the middle of the night after another huge argument with Sam.
*
They were still licking their wounds from the last encounter.
"That's insane, Dean!" Sam shouted. He flung his arms in the air and huffed a few times. Dean rolled his eyes and stuffed the shot gun in his duffle bag.
"You're always the one wanting to go off after demons," Dean said nonchalantly as he waved his own arms in mock imitation of his brother. Castiel stood silent, near the window with his back to them.
"There got to be another way," Sam frowned at Dean's antics. "Right?" He added, turning to Castiel. The angel was silent.
"There's no other way," Dean said, moving in closer to his brother. Their eyes locked, and Sam turned away. Dean forced him to meet his gaze. "This is it, Sammy," Dean said with much more bravado than he felt. "All other ways have been exhausted. He wants a fight and I have to bring it to him." Sam shook his head and looked away again. Dean could see the tears brimming in his brother's eyes and his heart ached at the thought that he was hurting him.
"We could let the angels take care of it," Sam muttered. "It's their fault," he added with bitterness. He glanced over at Castiel, whose shoulders hunched at the words.
They all went silent. Dean shook Sam's grip off, and paced across the room. Sam looked frantic. Castiel looked lost.
"Give me one day," Castiel finally said. He turned to face them, eyes filled with regret. Dean nodded and then Castiel was gone.
*
"Come out and face me like a man!" Dean shouted. He wasn't even sure there was anyone there, but there had to be because this was the end. This was the showdown and he was here and it would soon be over. Dean felt relief at this thought. He wanted it over. The world wasn't the world he knew anymore anyway, and he was to blame.
Dean leaned against a shattered wall. He stood in the convent where Lucifer had first risen. When a dark shadow flashed across the room, Dean fired his gun again. This time he hit his target, knocking whoever or whatever flat. Dean rushed toward the fallen figure, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Where is he?" he asked, cocking his weapon and training it on the man's forehead. A stream of black demon smoke pored out of the man's mouth at the ceiling. Dean stepped back and watched as the smoke vanished.
"I'm here," a soft voice behind him said. Dean spun around and aimed. The shotgun flew from his hands to smash against the far wall. Plaster and mortar exploded on impact.
Dean turned slowly to face the man. This time he wore a white suit. His white blond hair was perfectly groomed. Dean took a deep breath.
"You can stop chasing me now," Dean said with more bravado than he felt. This was after all freaking Lucifer, the king of hell, the man who had been in charge of the one place Dean hated most.
"I see that," Lucifer said, walking slowly toward Dean. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and slipped his hand into the inner pocket to pull out a pure black feather. They had discovered long ago that Lucifer was wicked and playful. Dean shuddered inside, but managed to hide his fear.
"Let's get this over with," Dean managed to say without his voice breaking into a million pieces. He was sure he'd crack. His heart was pounding in his chest fit to burst. Lucifer stopped right behind him and leaned forward.
"Shall we dance," he said into Dean's ear. Then everything went black.
*
"He fucking went," Sam said, franticly shoving every weapon he could think of in a duffle. He stomped across Bobby's living room, looking for anything else he could stuff inside the bag.
"I get that you're pissed," Bobby said as he tried to get between Sam and his single-minded mission. Sam stopped and glared at Bobby.
"I'm more than pissed," Sam said. He rushed forward when he spotted the ancient book he'd been reading just the other night. As he shuffled the pages, searching for that one passage he'd come across, Bobby grabbed hold of the book and tried to yank it from Sam's grasp. Sam yanked back, almost throwing Bobby on his ass.
"Sam," Bobby said.
"No!" Sam flung the book across the room, frustration and anger burning in his chest. "No! I'm fucking furious. Where the fuck does he get off running away like this?" Sam could feel the tears burning in his eyes. His hair swirled around his head and black wings filled the room. Castiel suddenly appeared before them. Sam rushed forward and pushed the angel. Castiel stood his ground and Sam grabbed at his trench coat. "Where were you?" He wanted to shout. He wanted to scream.
Castiel looked to Bobby then back to Sam, his cool expression unchanged.
"Dean slipped away in the middle of the night," Bobby said with his head lowered. "He's gone."
"I know," Castiel said. His tone was so matter-of-fact that Sam wanted to punch him right in his smug face, but he already knew that would get him nowhere, so instead he released his grip on the trench coat and stepped away from Castiel. He didn't hide his disgust.
"You knew and you did nothing to stop him," Sam said as more of an accusation than question. Castiel folded his arms behind his back and stared down at the floor.
"I couldn't do anything to stop him. There was something more pressing..."
Sam loomed over the smaller man.
"What the fuck is more pressing than Dean!" he shouted. Bobby moved in between them and pushed Sam away.
"Fighting isn't getting us anywhere," Bobby said to Sam.
"Then we should go," Sam said as he went to continue his task of packing weapons.
"No," Castiel said. Sam stopped and stared at the angel, stunned at the reply.
"What do you mean, no?" he asked. He was across the room in Castiel's space again, their noses almost touching. Castiel stared up at Sam, defiance in his stance.
"No," Castiel said. "We do nothing. I can't..." He was the first to break eye contact.
"What do you mean no?" Sam growled. His jaw twitched as he ground his teeth in frustration. He reached up then lowered his hand, impotent to do anything but stand there. The words echoed in his mind. Dean's last words echoed in his mind.
"It pains me just as much as you," Castiel finally said after a long silence.
"You sat and watched him suffer in pain once before," Sam said, remembering the time Dean had been beaten almost to death by Alastair and Castiel's refusal to help heal Dean then. "You refused to help him then, and I will be fucking damned if you refuse again. We are going after my brother and if you would rather cower…" Castiel flinched at the word. "...cower here while Dean dies, I am fucking done with you for good." Sam's whole body was tense now, every muscle screaming, and every nerve frayed to the last strand. He leaned forward and shoved his face in Castiel's.
"Sam," Castiel said, and though he had nothing to fear, he leaned away from Sam, his body bent back. His eyes were wide and locked on Sam's.
"Get the fuck out of my face," Sam whispered.
*
He woke to darkness. Dean tried to sit up, but discovered quickly that he was restrained. Once his eyes had adjusted to the darkness and the groggy feeling had worn off, he also realized that he was tied down to something soft.
Dean lifted his head up and looked around the darkened room to find that the something soft he was bound to was actually a hospital bed. The bed was stripped down with no pillow and he was tied down so tight that his wrists hurt. His arms and legs were spread wide and his jacket lay on a chair beside the bed. He wore only jeans and a t-shirt. When he leaned his head as far to the left as he could, he saw his boots on the floor and his flannel shirt lay in a crumpled heap beside them. Dean strained against his bonds, testing them.
"Welcome back, sleeping beauty," Lucifer said. The voice was coming from behind Dean. Dean craned his head to try to see where he was, but couldn't.
"You sly dog," Dean said. "I should have known you were into bondage." He continued to struggle, despite the ropes cutting off his circulation. When a hand trailed down his left arm, Dean struggled harder.
"I'm into everything," Lucifer purred. He leaned in close to Dean's ear and chuckled.
"Cool, then you won't mind letting me go, because I'd sure be into that," Dean replied. Lucifer straightened and seemed to contemplate Dean's request. Dean watched as he walked to the foot of the bed and stopped.
"I really like you, Dean Winchester," Lucifer said, tapping his bottom lip with an index finger. "You're...spunky and kind of cute."
Dean flinched at the words. They seemed so wrong coming out of this man's mouth.
"Here's the thing," Lucifer said, moving to stand beside Dean. "I don't want to let you go. I need you."
"I'm flattered," Dean said. "Really, but I don't swing that way."
*
He was strong. He was too strong for Dean to push away, but Dean didn't want to push Castiel away. Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel and rubbed up against his length. They were standing against a rough brick wall, and it was a dark cool night. The kiss hadn't totally been out of left field. Dean sort of suspected that Castiel had started to develop those kinds of feelings for him. It wasn't anything overt. It was the little things Castiel did or said. Dean could ignore the clues because there was no harm in crushing on a guy. After all, Dean was hot. He'd had guys hit on him before in the past.
Despite the little signs, when Castiel had grabbed hold of Dean, and thrown him up against the wall, Dean's first thought wasn't of kissing. He wondered what danger they had inadvertently stumbled on. When Castiel had locked lips with Dean, the wondering stopped. The kiss was weird and not because it was a guy kissing him, or because the guy wasn't even him himself, or even because the kiss came from an angel. It was weird because at first, Castiel sort of just pressed their mouths together. Dean thought that was because of lack of experience, but then when the kiss softened and Castiel pushed his tongue past Dean's lips to part them like he'd done this a million times, Dean opened his eyes, shocked that his dick had twitched in his pants.
Castiel's eyes were closed, and the look on his face was one of full concentration, like Dean was the most important thing in the world. Dean closed his eyes, and tilted his head, tasting sweetness as Castiel licked his lips. When Castiel pulled away, breaking the kiss, Dean's heart trip-hammered in his chest, and he found himself leaning forward, eager for more. He opened his eyes again to look into Castiel's deep blue hesitant gaze. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment. Dean could see the depths of the universe in Castiel's.
"I have heard it said that actions speak louder than words," Castiel whispered.
"Good thing I shaved this morning," Dean blurted, feeling foolish the moment he spoke the words. He frowned, unsure why those were the first words to come to mind. He should be freaked. He should be excited, or angry or frustrated or something, but dumbfounded seemed wrong. Dean shook his head at his mental thoughts and realized that dumbfounded was the perfect reaction. He'd never once thought that Castiel would react on his feelings for him. He kidded about it with Sam once or twice when Sam had teased him about how Castiel went out of his way to make sure Dean was always safe, but Dean had convinced himself that Castiel would keep it platonic.
Castiel took a step back and Dean snapped out of his reverie when he realized that the look on Castiel's face had changed from the usual passive inscrutable one to a look of hurt. Dean's eyes went wide at the sudden realization that Castiel may have taken Dean's reaction for one of rejection. He reached out and tried to tug Castiel closer, but the man wouldn't move, so instead Dean took a step closer. Castiel stepped back and held a hand up to stop Dean from moving in close.
"What I meant was, that was kind of a surprise," Dean stumbled over the words, unsure what else to say. What could he say? Castiel was an angel and angels weren't supposed to feel anything as far as he knew. Or maybe they were and normally those feelings were pent up inside like a Vulcan or something. Dean felt panic build in his chest. Silence fell between them, and the moment stretched out too long to be anything but embarrassing. Castiel tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.
"I understand," he said with a sad sigh. He looked down at himself. "I repulse you."
Then Dean blinked and Castiel was gone in a flurry of wings. Dean rushed forward, grasping at air, and fumbling when he caught nothing in his grip. Castiel was gone.
"I fucking hate when you do that," Dean shouted up at the sky.
*
Sam was pacing, frustration building with each moment that passed. Bobby had gone out and Castiel stood near the fireplace, brooding. Sam turned to face the angel. Was he seriously brooding? His head was down, and his eyes looked sad. It had to be brooding. Even though Sam had been told again and again that angels didn't have emotions or feelings in the same way that humans did, he didn't buy that line of bull. They'd been with Castiel for months now and he knew the angel felt emotions. He could see it in his eyes time and time again. Sometimes he even felt for him because it couldn't be easy, having to use somebody else.
Sam stopped his pacing and watched as Castiel leaned his arm against the fireplace mantel in a perfect imitation of one of Dean's stances. He cleared his throat and Castiel look up at him.
"Why are you still here?" Sam asked with a disgusted sneer. Despite any amount of empathy Sam might harbor for Castiel, he was still furious at the guy, but Bobby and reasoning had prevailed. Even though Sam was angry at Castiel, they needed him.
"Because it isn't time yet," Castiel muttered.
"Time for what?" Sam said, rushing forward. He once again resisted the urge to punch Castiel in the face. Dean had told him how it felt like hitting a brick wall and Sam wasn't into pain. "Dean could be dead."
"He isn't," Castiel muttered, lowering his head.
"How do you know?" Sam asked. His eyes went wide. He loomed over Castiel, glaring down at him. His body was so tense now, Sam was sure he'd explode with rage. These days he was quick to anger and he knew this. He'd had no time to actually sit down and wonder why, because in his life, there was never time for wondering.
"Because I know," Castiel said, looking up into Sam's eyes. The pain practically radiated off of him.
"Can you, like what, feel his presence or something?" Sam finally asked after a long pause.
"Dean's death would signal my death."
*
The restraints were really starting to chafe. Dean continued to test them despite the fact that they were tied good and tight. He had to at least try to get away. The king of fallen angels was looming nearby, though he hadn't said much in the past hour. It was like he was waiting for something. Dean had already asked about going to the bathroom as a ruse to try to escape but gotten no response. Lucifer walked across the room and pushed the blinds aside with one finger. A sliver of light shown through, telling Dean that it was probably daytime, though he wasn't sure what time of day or even what day. For all he knew, he was back in hell and years had passed.
"Hey, Luci," Dean called out, smirking at the slight cringe the nickname elicited. Dean glanced up at his left wrist. His skin was raw and red on the wrist and when he tugged, the pain shot down his arm. "Seriously, I have to take a piss."
Lucifer turned his head to look at Dean.
"Go ahead," he said, disgust in his face. The next second he was in Dean's face, snarling. "It won't be much longer anyway."
"What won't be much longer?" Dean asked, turning his head away. His breath smelled kind of rank, and Dean was about to make a crack about how Lucifer should brush his teeth more often when the bonds on his wrist were snapped off. Dean screamed in pain when he felt his left wrist crack. Lucifer twisted the wrist in his hand and grinned.
"You'll see soon enough," Lucifer said as he released Dean's hand and snapped the ropes on his ankles, this time with more care. Dean sat up, and almost shrieked when he was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and lifted off the bed. Lucifer held him in the air for a moment with his feet dangling above the floor. Dean grabbed at Lucifer's arm, trying to pull him off with no luck. The strength of a demon was no match. When he was finally released, Dean landed clumsily on his feet and he almost fell back. "Go and relieve yourself." He leaned in close, looming over Dean.
Dean backed away, rubbing at his raw wrists. The one that had cracked hurt like a bitch, and Dean cradled it in his other hand.
"You're all so fragile," Lucifer said. Dean looked around the room to see that there was a bathroom, but its door was gone. The room was dingier than Dean had originally thought, and he slowly walked past Lucifer, avoiding eye contact. When he glanced out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Lucifer had crossed his arms and was watching Dean.
"Yeah, sorry about that," Dean quipped. "Maybe next time, you could put in a good word with the almighty and tell him to make us less breakable."
Lucifer chuckled and shook his head as Dean stood in front of the toilet and relieved himself. He took note that the bathroom had a small window, and that the way to the exit was blocked by Lucifer. This was obviously some motel room who knew where. Even if Dean could escape, he'd have no idea where to go from there.
Dean zipped his pants up once he was finished, and flushed the toilet. He moved to the small sink to wash his hands, also noting that there was a little bar of soap wrapped in green paper with no indication of the motel name, clean towels and fresh rolls of toilet paper. This was not an abandoned motel, so how had Lucifer gotten Dean here without arousing suspicion? Dean leaned toward the small window and caught a glimpse of a man walking to a truck. He couldn't see a highway or road of any kind. Maybe this place was off the beaten track. Dean thought about shouting out the window at the guy, but that would probably get the poor sucker killed.
He dried his hands on one of the rough towels, and turned to leave the bathroom. Lucifer stood in the entry way, blocking his path.
"It would get the guy killed," he said with a grin. Dean cleared his throat and motioned at the window.
"You saw all that," he said with a nervous chuckle. This was going to be a hard escape if he could even attempt one at all.
"It's cool," Lucifer said with a shrug. "I don't begrudge you any thoughts of wanting to escape. I will warn you that if you try, I will kill anybody near you," he leaned in close at those words, "I will lay waste to anything within a five mile radius of you including the birds in the air, Dean Winchester. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal," Dean said, eyes going wide. Why the fuck did demons always have to say Dean's full name when they meant serious business?"
"Speaking of things that fly, how about that angel of yours?" Lucifer said, stepping away from the entrance to let Dean pass. This time, Dean kept his eyes on Lucifer as he walked back into the room and paced in front of the bed.
"What about him?" Dean asked, hesitant. He'd hoped to keep Castiel's name out of any conversation, but he supposed it was inevitable. After all, Lucifer and Castiel had once flown in the same circles.
"Isn't he cute?" Lucifer said with a tilt of his head, as though he were contemplating the notion.
"How would I know," Dean said, shrugging. "He's possessing Jimmy, so I've never actually seen him."
"Right," Lucifer said, smiling. Dean didn't like the look of that grin. "Too bad you can't see his true form. An angel's true form is powerful and terrifying and beautiful to behold." He closed his eyes and seemed to fall into some kind of trance.
Dean glanced at the exit and debated moving closer.
"I wasn't kidding when I said I'd kill things," Lucifer said. Dean paused in his pacing and sat down on the end of the bed. He rubbed his face with his hands, flinching from the pain in his wrist. He'd already examined the whole room and there was nothing in it that would help him escape, or slow Lucifer down. He was alone and at the devil's mercy.
"I get it, okay," Dean finally said. A feeling of dread overwhelmed him. If he could just call Sammy to let him know not to come after him, then maybe later they could fight over whether this was the most boneheaded move Dean had ever made. That was, if Dean survived. Dean glanced at the telephone.
"Good, then let's move things along." Lucifer stopped in front of Dean and reached out to touch Dean's chin, tilting his head up. "Everything is going to be okay."
"Yeah, right because you're so ready to leave the world alone and let us go on living our lives instead of turning it into your own personal hell," Dean quipped. He almost flinched as the fingers on his chin twitched with his words. Stop trying to anger him! Interestingly enough, the voice in his head sounded a lot like Castiel.
"Dean," Lucifer smiled and grabbed Dean's chin to pull him to his feet. They were face to face and Dean gulped, afraid he'd pushed too far. "I'm going to kill everyone you love. Sam I might spare because he did after all have a hand in pulling me out of hell, but Castiel," Lucifer said with a twinkle in his eye, "Castiel I am going to kill and it won't be fast either. It will be slow and painful and Jimmy will know all about it. In fact, I will take great pains to ensure that Jimmy Novak, the stupid meat suit, will feel every single second of pain that Castiel feels."
Lucifer pulled Dean in closer until their noses almost touched. Dean could feel Lucifer's breathe on his face and he recoiled from the hint of sulfur. It was that same smell he'd detected before. They stayed like that, staring into each other's eyes, Lucifer's touch hot on Dean's face.
"I know how you feel about them both," Lucifer said, releasing Dean. Dean stumbled back and fell on the bed, rubbing at his chin. It felt like there were maggots crawling on his skin, and he rubbed harder in an attempt to extinguish the feeling.
Dean glared up at Lucifer, rage and fear mingling together.
"You're conflicted because of the meat he wears," Lucifer continued. He paced around the room, waving his hand in the air and ignoring Dean.
"You sick son a bitch," Dean mumbled through gritted teeth. He rubbed at his jaw, but nothing helped to shake the crawling sensation.
"I truly am," Lucifer said as he leaned forward and stared into Dean's eyes. "You shouldn't torture yourself. Let me do it for you." He raised his hand and Dean flinched. The pain started in his gut as a sharp stab and built until his insides felt like they were on fire. Dean clenched his teeth and fought the urge to scream. There was no way he would give the bastard the satisfaction. Just as he felt he could take no more, the pain ceased. Dean uncurled and glared up at the manic smile on Lucifer's face.
"Look, he's great. He really is," Lucifer said, casually sitting behind Dean and placing his hand on Dean's hip. Dean stiffened at the touch. "But he's a stick-in-the-mud and would never go there." Lucifer patted Dean several times and stroked him until his hand slid under Dean's shirt to touch bare skin. Dean wanted to move away. He wanted to scream, but instead he squeezed his eyes shut, and endured the caress.
"Jimmy isn't meat," Dean said with another flinch as Lucifer's hand crept farther under his shirt. Dean resisted a smug smile. "And you are so wrong."
"Really?" Lucifer said his hand pausing in its travels. He pulled it out from under Dean's shirt and smacked Dean on the ass, startling Dean. "Do tell."
*
The field went on forever. Tall grass bent from the cool, gentle breeze. Sam stood, looking at his surroundings. The sky was bright blue with no clouds, and there was nothing but long, green grass as far as he could see. Something wasn't right. This wasn't anyplace near Bobby's. Sam was almost sure of that. The last thing he remembered was being in Bobby's kitchen.
He saw a figure in the distance and called out to them, but they had their back to him. Sam started to walk toward the person, but no matter how fast he walked, they never seemed to get closer. He picked up speed, but he still couldn't reach the figure.
"You'll never save him," a voice in his head said. Sam stopped and looked around, frantic.
"Who are you?" he shouted to the figure. Then someone tapped him on the shoulder and Sam spun around.
He sat up covered in sweat. Sam only slightly calmed down when he saw that he was not in fact in some distant wheat field. He was on Bobby's sofa where he'd fallen asleep while doing research. He shuddered at the thought of who had been in his dream, and almost fell off the sofa when he realized that there was somebody standing in the room. It was Castiel, standing with his gaze fixed on the far wall.
"You dreamed of him," Castiel said.
Sam sat up and frowned, rubbing at his face to shake the feeling of exhaustion.
"It's time," Castiel said after a long silence. Sam looked up to find Bobby standing just behind Castiel.
"I'll get supplies," Bobby said and turned to leave the room. Sam stood and stretched, and then turned on Castiel.
"So now it's time," he said, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
"Yes," Castiel said, standing with his hands behind his back and his lips pursed. He focused on Sam. "We'll drive there."
"Why can't you just..." Sam put his hands together and made butterfly flapping motions with them. "...you know..." Sam lowered his hands when Castiel just stared at him as though he were insane.
"Timing is everything," Castiel finally said. He turned and started to head for the front door until Sam grabbed hold of his arm.
"Sorry I was harsh last night," Sam said, feeling sheepish and just a bit awkward. He released Castiel when he realized that the angel was staring down at Sam's grip on his arm.
"We should go," Castiel said. At that moment, Bobby came in with two duffle bags. He'd put on a coat and his baseball cap.
"Let's ride," Sam said. He felt a rush of adrenaline course through him as they moved out to the car. Bobby put his bags in the back of his pick-up truck and got in behind the wheel, while Sam opened the passenger side door and waited for Castiel to slide into the cab. Sam got in beside him, pushing Castiel in further so that he sat between Sam and Bobby. They all buckled in. This was going to be a long ride.
Once they were on the road, Bobby reached for his GPS and pressed a few buttons. The device beeped a few times.
"Where to, angel boy?" Bobby asked. Sam noted that Bobby had barely glanced at Castiel since they had started off on the road.
"I will tell you when you need to know," Castiel replied. Sam flinched at the cool tone, knowing that it might not go over well with Bobby, but to his surprise Bobby just huffed and went back to concentrating on driving. Sam also noted that Bobby seemed to be avoiding physical contact with Castiel, and whether that was intentional or not, it made the cab crowded. Sam nudged Castiel toward Bobby, and cringed when Castiel bumped against Bobby's arm. The truck swerved for a second, and Bobby glared at them both.
Another hundred miles later, and no one had said a word. Sam's phone started to hum. He pulled it out of his coat pocket and stared down at the number. It was Dean. Sam popped the phone open and put it to his ear.
"Dean," he called out.
"Yeah, Sammy, it's me," the voice on the other end said. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't sound hurt or upset or like he'd been tortured or something.
"Where are you?" All thoughts of chastising his brother flew out the wind at the sound of Dean's voice. Sam noted the anxious looks on both Bobby and Castiel faces. Bobby pulled to the side of the road and turned the engine off. "Why did you have to go off on your own?"
"I'm not sure where I am. I think it's some sleazy motel somewhere on planet earth," Dean said. That meant that Dean hadn't looked outside yet.
"Are you alone?" Sam asked the question, afraid of the reply.
"Nope," Dean said. Sam hoped the next words out his brother's mouth were 'hot chick.'
"Well, can you get away?" Sam said, hoping for a yes answer but knowing in his heart that this could never be as easy as that.
"Nope," Dean replied. "Look, could you put Castiel on?"
"Sure," Sam said with a sinking feeling in his heart. Dean had barely given him a clue. Sam reluctantly handed the phone to Castiel. "It's for you."
Castiel took the phone from him and placed it to his ear, seeming just as reluctant as Sam.
"Yes?" A pause told Sam that Dean must have been talking, but he couldn't hear what was being said. Sam leaned in closer in the hope of hearing something.
"I know how this ends," Castiel replied after a long pause. He nodded.
"I'm willing no matter what the outcome." He paused again and glanced at Sam.
"Can I talk to Dean?" Castiel asked. Sam arched his brows. Hadn't he been speaking to Dean already? If he hadn't then who was he talking to? Castiel looked startled and held the phone away from his ear. "He hung up." He handed the phone back to Sam and went back to staring at the road ahead.
"Well," Sam urged. "What did he say?" Castiel turned his head to look at Sam.
"It was Lucifer," he said. His tone was so calm, Sam wanted to grab him and shake him.
"And," Sam said with a hand motion to encourage him to continue.
"And he plans to kill me slowly while you all watch," Castiel said. Bobby slammed his hand on the steering wheel, unbuckled his seat belt and yanked his door open to climb out of the truck. He looked upset and furious and frustrated all at once and Sam didn't blame him. Castiel could be infuriating.
"Then we need a better plan than just driving up to his hideout," Sam said with a wave of his hands.
"We need to drive," Castiel said.
CONTINUED IN PART 2
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: R
Warnings: For violence
Spoilers: up to season four
Word Count: 11,800
Notes/Prompt(s): Written for the Renegade Angel Secret Angel exchange for aesc who wanted Castiel and Sam have to put aside their differences (I wonder if Sam still has some lingering resentment over Castiel being unable to heal Dean in 4.16?) to find/help Dean who has been captured/hurt/lost/whatever. Thanks to my beta readers L, and A and H. You were all invaluable. This story was written a few months back before Season 5 started, so my Lucifer is nothing like the one on the show. I'm rather proud of my Lucifer and I enjoyed writing him. I haven't had a chance to look this over for errors, so I apologize in advance for remaining mistakes.
Disclaimer: Supernatural is the property of Eric Kripke. No infringement is meant.
Summary: In which Dean rushes off to fight Lucifer. Sam tries to force Castiel to help. Castiel keeps saying it isn't time, and Bobby just thinks they're all crazy.
It had been three months since Lucifer rose.
Dean walked past the pillar with his gun ready. It was a trap. They all knew it was a trap. Sam had begged him not to go. Castiel had rushed off with a flurry of wings, possibly angry. Dean wasn't sure because he'd never seen the angel show much in the way of emotions. Bobby had threatened to tie him up, but Dean was stubborn and he wanted this over. Hell had come to earth, literally, and Dean was the reason. He'd also been told that he was the only one who could stop this.
Dean fired the shotgun at a crash to his left. His right hand screamed with pain. He was sure that he'd broken three of his fingers last time. He clenched his jaw and ignored the pain, and tried not to think about the fact that he was here alone. He tried to forget that he'd snuck away in the middle of the night after another huge argument with Sam.
*
They were still licking their wounds from the last encounter.
"That's insane, Dean!" Sam shouted. He flung his arms in the air and huffed a few times. Dean rolled his eyes and stuffed the shot gun in his duffle bag.
"You're always the one wanting to go off after demons," Dean said nonchalantly as he waved his own arms in mock imitation of his brother. Castiel stood silent, near the window with his back to them.
"There got to be another way," Sam frowned at Dean's antics. "Right?" He added, turning to Castiel. The angel was silent.
"There's no other way," Dean said, moving in closer to his brother. Their eyes locked, and Sam turned away. Dean forced him to meet his gaze. "This is it, Sammy," Dean said with much more bravado than he felt. "All other ways have been exhausted. He wants a fight and I have to bring it to him." Sam shook his head and looked away again. Dean could see the tears brimming in his brother's eyes and his heart ached at the thought that he was hurting him.
"We could let the angels take care of it," Sam muttered. "It's their fault," he added with bitterness. He glanced over at Castiel, whose shoulders hunched at the words.
They all went silent. Dean shook Sam's grip off, and paced across the room. Sam looked frantic. Castiel looked lost.
"Give me one day," Castiel finally said. He turned to face them, eyes filled with regret. Dean nodded and then Castiel was gone.
*
"Come out and face me like a man!" Dean shouted. He wasn't even sure there was anyone there, but there had to be because this was the end. This was the showdown and he was here and it would soon be over. Dean felt relief at this thought. He wanted it over. The world wasn't the world he knew anymore anyway, and he was to blame.
Dean leaned against a shattered wall. He stood in the convent where Lucifer had first risen. When a dark shadow flashed across the room, Dean fired his gun again. This time he hit his target, knocking whoever or whatever flat. Dean rushed toward the fallen figure, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Where is he?" he asked, cocking his weapon and training it on the man's forehead. A stream of black demon smoke pored out of the man's mouth at the ceiling. Dean stepped back and watched as the smoke vanished.
"I'm here," a soft voice behind him said. Dean spun around and aimed. The shotgun flew from his hands to smash against the far wall. Plaster and mortar exploded on impact.
Dean turned slowly to face the man. This time he wore a white suit. His white blond hair was perfectly groomed. Dean took a deep breath.
"You can stop chasing me now," Dean said with more bravado than he felt. This was after all freaking Lucifer, the king of hell, the man who had been in charge of the one place Dean hated most.
"I see that," Lucifer said, walking slowly toward Dean. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and slipped his hand into the inner pocket to pull out a pure black feather. They had discovered long ago that Lucifer was wicked and playful. Dean shuddered inside, but managed to hide his fear.
"Let's get this over with," Dean managed to say without his voice breaking into a million pieces. He was sure he'd crack. His heart was pounding in his chest fit to burst. Lucifer stopped right behind him and leaned forward.
"Shall we dance," he said into Dean's ear. Then everything went black.
*
"He fucking went," Sam said, franticly shoving every weapon he could think of in a duffle. He stomped across Bobby's living room, looking for anything else he could stuff inside the bag.
"I get that you're pissed," Bobby said as he tried to get between Sam and his single-minded mission. Sam stopped and glared at Bobby.
"I'm more than pissed," Sam said. He rushed forward when he spotted the ancient book he'd been reading just the other night. As he shuffled the pages, searching for that one passage he'd come across, Bobby grabbed hold of the book and tried to yank it from Sam's grasp. Sam yanked back, almost throwing Bobby on his ass.
"Sam," Bobby said.
"No!" Sam flung the book across the room, frustration and anger burning in his chest. "No! I'm fucking furious. Where the fuck does he get off running away like this?" Sam could feel the tears burning in his eyes. His hair swirled around his head and black wings filled the room. Castiel suddenly appeared before them. Sam rushed forward and pushed the angel. Castiel stood his ground and Sam grabbed at his trench coat. "Where were you?" He wanted to shout. He wanted to scream.
Castiel looked to Bobby then back to Sam, his cool expression unchanged.
"Dean slipped away in the middle of the night," Bobby said with his head lowered. "He's gone."
"I know," Castiel said. His tone was so matter-of-fact that Sam wanted to punch him right in his smug face, but he already knew that would get him nowhere, so instead he released his grip on the trench coat and stepped away from Castiel. He didn't hide his disgust.
"You knew and you did nothing to stop him," Sam said as more of an accusation than question. Castiel folded his arms behind his back and stared down at the floor.
"I couldn't do anything to stop him. There was something more pressing..."
Sam loomed over the smaller man.
"What the fuck is more pressing than Dean!" he shouted. Bobby moved in between them and pushed Sam away.
"Fighting isn't getting us anywhere," Bobby said to Sam.
"Then we should go," Sam said as he went to continue his task of packing weapons.
"No," Castiel said. Sam stopped and stared at the angel, stunned at the reply.
"What do you mean, no?" he asked. He was across the room in Castiel's space again, their noses almost touching. Castiel stared up at Sam, defiance in his stance.
"No," Castiel said. "We do nothing. I can't..." He was the first to break eye contact.
"What do you mean no?" Sam growled. His jaw twitched as he ground his teeth in frustration. He reached up then lowered his hand, impotent to do anything but stand there. The words echoed in his mind. Dean's last words echoed in his mind.
"It pains me just as much as you," Castiel finally said after a long silence.
"You sat and watched him suffer in pain once before," Sam said, remembering the time Dean had been beaten almost to death by Alastair and Castiel's refusal to help heal Dean then. "You refused to help him then, and I will be fucking damned if you refuse again. We are going after my brother and if you would rather cower…" Castiel flinched at the word. "...cower here while Dean dies, I am fucking done with you for good." Sam's whole body was tense now, every muscle screaming, and every nerve frayed to the last strand. He leaned forward and shoved his face in Castiel's.
"Sam," Castiel said, and though he had nothing to fear, he leaned away from Sam, his body bent back. His eyes were wide and locked on Sam's.
"Get the fuck out of my face," Sam whispered.
*
He woke to darkness. Dean tried to sit up, but discovered quickly that he was restrained. Once his eyes had adjusted to the darkness and the groggy feeling had worn off, he also realized that he was tied down to something soft.
Dean lifted his head up and looked around the darkened room to find that the something soft he was bound to was actually a hospital bed. The bed was stripped down with no pillow and he was tied down so tight that his wrists hurt. His arms and legs were spread wide and his jacket lay on a chair beside the bed. He wore only jeans and a t-shirt. When he leaned his head as far to the left as he could, he saw his boots on the floor and his flannel shirt lay in a crumpled heap beside them. Dean strained against his bonds, testing them.
"Welcome back, sleeping beauty," Lucifer said. The voice was coming from behind Dean. Dean craned his head to try to see where he was, but couldn't.
"You sly dog," Dean said. "I should have known you were into bondage." He continued to struggle, despite the ropes cutting off his circulation. When a hand trailed down his left arm, Dean struggled harder.
"I'm into everything," Lucifer purred. He leaned in close to Dean's ear and chuckled.
"Cool, then you won't mind letting me go, because I'd sure be into that," Dean replied. Lucifer straightened and seemed to contemplate Dean's request. Dean watched as he walked to the foot of the bed and stopped.
"I really like you, Dean Winchester," Lucifer said, tapping his bottom lip with an index finger. "You're...spunky and kind of cute."
Dean flinched at the words. They seemed so wrong coming out of this man's mouth.
"Here's the thing," Lucifer said, moving to stand beside Dean. "I don't want to let you go. I need you."
"I'm flattered," Dean said. "Really, but I don't swing that way."
*
He was strong. He was too strong for Dean to push away, but Dean didn't want to push Castiel away. Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel and rubbed up against his length. They were standing against a rough brick wall, and it was a dark cool night. The kiss hadn't totally been out of left field. Dean sort of suspected that Castiel had started to develop those kinds of feelings for him. It wasn't anything overt. It was the little things Castiel did or said. Dean could ignore the clues because there was no harm in crushing on a guy. After all, Dean was hot. He'd had guys hit on him before in the past.
Despite the little signs, when Castiel had grabbed hold of Dean, and thrown him up against the wall, Dean's first thought wasn't of kissing. He wondered what danger they had inadvertently stumbled on. When Castiel had locked lips with Dean, the wondering stopped. The kiss was weird and not because it was a guy kissing him, or because the guy wasn't even him himself, or even because the kiss came from an angel. It was weird because at first, Castiel sort of just pressed their mouths together. Dean thought that was because of lack of experience, but then when the kiss softened and Castiel pushed his tongue past Dean's lips to part them like he'd done this a million times, Dean opened his eyes, shocked that his dick had twitched in his pants.
Castiel's eyes were closed, and the look on his face was one of full concentration, like Dean was the most important thing in the world. Dean closed his eyes, and tilted his head, tasting sweetness as Castiel licked his lips. When Castiel pulled away, breaking the kiss, Dean's heart trip-hammered in his chest, and he found himself leaning forward, eager for more. He opened his eyes again to look into Castiel's deep blue hesitant gaze. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment. Dean could see the depths of the universe in Castiel's.
"I have heard it said that actions speak louder than words," Castiel whispered.
"Good thing I shaved this morning," Dean blurted, feeling foolish the moment he spoke the words. He frowned, unsure why those were the first words to come to mind. He should be freaked. He should be excited, or angry or frustrated or something, but dumbfounded seemed wrong. Dean shook his head at his mental thoughts and realized that dumbfounded was the perfect reaction. He'd never once thought that Castiel would react on his feelings for him. He kidded about it with Sam once or twice when Sam had teased him about how Castiel went out of his way to make sure Dean was always safe, but Dean had convinced himself that Castiel would keep it platonic.
Castiel took a step back and Dean snapped out of his reverie when he realized that the look on Castiel's face had changed from the usual passive inscrutable one to a look of hurt. Dean's eyes went wide at the sudden realization that Castiel may have taken Dean's reaction for one of rejection. He reached out and tried to tug Castiel closer, but the man wouldn't move, so instead Dean took a step closer. Castiel stepped back and held a hand up to stop Dean from moving in close.
"What I meant was, that was kind of a surprise," Dean stumbled over the words, unsure what else to say. What could he say? Castiel was an angel and angels weren't supposed to feel anything as far as he knew. Or maybe they were and normally those feelings were pent up inside like a Vulcan or something. Dean felt panic build in his chest. Silence fell between them, and the moment stretched out too long to be anything but embarrassing. Castiel tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.
"I understand," he said with a sad sigh. He looked down at himself. "I repulse you."
Then Dean blinked and Castiel was gone in a flurry of wings. Dean rushed forward, grasping at air, and fumbling when he caught nothing in his grip. Castiel was gone.
"I fucking hate when you do that," Dean shouted up at the sky.
*
Sam was pacing, frustration building with each moment that passed. Bobby had gone out and Castiel stood near the fireplace, brooding. Sam turned to face the angel. Was he seriously brooding? His head was down, and his eyes looked sad. It had to be brooding. Even though Sam had been told again and again that angels didn't have emotions or feelings in the same way that humans did, he didn't buy that line of bull. They'd been with Castiel for months now and he knew the angel felt emotions. He could see it in his eyes time and time again. Sometimes he even felt for him because it couldn't be easy, having to use somebody else.
Sam stopped his pacing and watched as Castiel leaned his arm against the fireplace mantel in a perfect imitation of one of Dean's stances. He cleared his throat and Castiel look up at him.
"Why are you still here?" Sam asked with a disgusted sneer. Despite any amount of empathy Sam might harbor for Castiel, he was still furious at the guy, but Bobby and reasoning had prevailed. Even though Sam was angry at Castiel, they needed him.
"Because it isn't time yet," Castiel muttered.
"Time for what?" Sam said, rushing forward. He once again resisted the urge to punch Castiel in the face. Dean had told him how it felt like hitting a brick wall and Sam wasn't into pain. "Dean could be dead."
"He isn't," Castiel muttered, lowering his head.
"How do you know?" Sam asked. His eyes went wide. He loomed over Castiel, glaring down at him. His body was so tense now, Sam was sure he'd explode with rage. These days he was quick to anger and he knew this. He'd had no time to actually sit down and wonder why, because in his life, there was never time for wondering.
"Because I know," Castiel said, looking up into Sam's eyes. The pain practically radiated off of him.
"Can you, like what, feel his presence or something?" Sam finally asked after a long pause.
"Dean's death would signal my death."
*
The restraints were really starting to chafe. Dean continued to test them despite the fact that they were tied good and tight. He had to at least try to get away. The king of fallen angels was looming nearby, though he hadn't said much in the past hour. It was like he was waiting for something. Dean had already asked about going to the bathroom as a ruse to try to escape but gotten no response. Lucifer walked across the room and pushed the blinds aside with one finger. A sliver of light shown through, telling Dean that it was probably daytime, though he wasn't sure what time of day or even what day. For all he knew, he was back in hell and years had passed.
"Hey, Luci," Dean called out, smirking at the slight cringe the nickname elicited. Dean glanced up at his left wrist. His skin was raw and red on the wrist and when he tugged, the pain shot down his arm. "Seriously, I have to take a piss."
Lucifer turned his head to look at Dean.
"Go ahead," he said, disgust in his face. The next second he was in Dean's face, snarling. "It won't be much longer anyway."
"What won't be much longer?" Dean asked, turning his head away. His breath smelled kind of rank, and Dean was about to make a crack about how Lucifer should brush his teeth more often when the bonds on his wrist were snapped off. Dean screamed in pain when he felt his left wrist crack. Lucifer twisted the wrist in his hand and grinned.
"You'll see soon enough," Lucifer said as he released Dean's hand and snapped the ropes on his ankles, this time with more care. Dean sat up, and almost shrieked when he was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and lifted off the bed. Lucifer held him in the air for a moment with his feet dangling above the floor. Dean grabbed at Lucifer's arm, trying to pull him off with no luck. The strength of a demon was no match. When he was finally released, Dean landed clumsily on his feet and he almost fell back. "Go and relieve yourself." He leaned in close, looming over Dean.
Dean backed away, rubbing at his raw wrists. The one that had cracked hurt like a bitch, and Dean cradled it in his other hand.
"You're all so fragile," Lucifer said. Dean looked around the room to see that there was a bathroom, but its door was gone. The room was dingier than Dean had originally thought, and he slowly walked past Lucifer, avoiding eye contact. When he glanced out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Lucifer had crossed his arms and was watching Dean.
"Yeah, sorry about that," Dean quipped. "Maybe next time, you could put in a good word with the almighty and tell him to make us less breakable."
Lucifer chuckled and shook his head as Dean stood in front of the toilet and relieved himself. He took note that the bathroom had a small window, and that the way to the exit was blocked by Lucifer. This was obviously some motel room who knew where. Even if Dean could escape, he'd have no idea where to go from there.
Dean zipped his pants up once he was finished, and flushed the toilet. He moved to the small sink to wash his hands, also noting that there was a little bar of soap wrapped in green paper with no indication of the motel name, clean towels and fresh rolls of toilet paper. This was not an abandoned motel, so how had Lucifer gotten Dean here without arousing suspicion? Dean leaned toward the small window and caught a glimpse of a man walking to a truck. He couldn't see a highway or road of any kind. Maybe this place was off the beaten track. Dean thought about shouting out the window at the guy, but that would probably get the poor sucker killed.
He dried his hands on one of the rough towels, and turned to leave the bathroom. Lucifer stood in the entry way, blocking his path.
"It would get the guy killed," he said with a grin. Dean cleared his throat and motioned at the window.
"You saw all that," he said with a nervous chuckle. This was going to be a hard escape if he could even attempt one at all.
"It's cool," Lucifer said with a shrug. "I don't begrudge you any thoughts of wanting to escape. I will warn you that if you try, I will kill anybody near you," he leaned in close at those words, "I will lay waste to anything within a five mile radius of you including the birds in the air, Dean Winchester. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal," Dean said, eyes going wide. Why the fuck did demons always have to say Dean's full name when they meant serious business?"
"Speaking of things that fly, how about that angel of yours?" Lucifer said, stepping away from the entrance to let Dean pass. This time, Dean kept his eyes on Lucifer as he walked back into the room and paced in front of the bed.
"What about him?" Dean asked, hesitant. He'd hoped to keep Castiel's name out of any conversation, but he supposed it was inevitable. After all, Lucifer and Castiel had once flown in the same circles.
"Isn't he cute?" Lucifer said with a tilt of his head, as though he were contemplating the notion.
"How would I know," Dean said, shrugging. "He's possessing Jimmy, so I've never actually seen him."
"Right," Lucifer said, smiling. Dean didn't like the look of that grin. "Too bad you can't see his true form. An angel's true form is powerful and terrifying and beautiful to behold." He closed his eyes and seemed to fall into some kind of trance.
Dean glanced at the exit and debated moving closer.
"I wasn't kidding when I said I'd kill things," Lucifer said. Dean paused in his pacing and sat down on the end of the bed. He rubbed his face with his hands, flinching from the pain in his wrist. He'd already examined the whole room and there was nothing in it that would help him escape, or slow Lucifer down. He was alone and at the devil's mercy.
"I get it, okay," Dean finally said. A feeling of dread overwhelmed him. If he could just call Sammy to let him know not to come after him, then maybe later they could fight over whether this was the most boneheaded move Dean had ever made. That was, if Dean survived. Dean glanced at the telephone.
"Good, then let's move things along." Lucifer stopped in front of Dean and reached out to touch Dean's chin, tilting his head up. "Everything is going to be okay."
"Yeah, right because you're so ready to leave the world alone and let us go on living our lives instead of turning it into your own personal hell," Dean quipped. He almost flinched as the fingers on his chin twitched with his words. Stop trying to anger him! Interestingly enough, the voice in his head sounded a lot like Castiel.
"Dean," Lucifer smiled and grabbed Dean's chin to pull him to his feet. They were face to face and Dean gulped, afraid he'd pushed too far. "I'm going to kill everyone you love. Sam I might spare because he did after all have a hand in pulling me out of hell, but Castiel," Lucifer said with a twinkle in his eye, "Castiel I am going to kill and it won't be fast either. It will be slow and painful and Jimmy will know all about it. In fact, I will take great pains to ensure that Jimmy Novak, the stupid meat suit, will feel every single second of pain that Castiel feels."
Lucifer pulled Dean in closer until their noses almost touched. Dean could feel Lucifer's breathe on his face and he recoiled from the hint of sulfur. It was that same smell he'd detected before. They stayed like that, staring into each other's eyes, Lucifer's touch hot on Dean's face.
"I know how you feel about them both," Lucifer said, releasing Dean. Dean stumbled back and fell on the bed, rubbing at his chin. It felt like there were maggots crawling on his skin, and he rubbed harder in an attempt to extinguish the feeling.
Dean glared up at Lucifer, rage and fear mingling together.
"You're conflicted because of the meat he wears," Lucifer continued. He paced around the room, waving his hand in the air and ignoring Dean.
"You sick son a bitch," Dean mumbled through gritted teeth. He rubbed at his jaw, but nothing helped to shake the crawling sensation.
"I truly am," Lucifer said as he leaned forward and stared into Dean's eyes. "You shouldn't torture yourself. Let me do it for you." He raised his hand and Dean flinched. The pain started in his gut as a sharp stab and built until his insides felt like they were on fire. Dean clenched his teeth and fought the urge to scream. There was no way he would give the bastard the satisfaction. Just as he felt he could take no more, the pain ceased. Dean uncurled and glared up at the manic smile on Lucifer's face.
"Look, he's great. He really is," Lucifer said, casually sitting behind Dean and placing his hand on Dean's hip. Dean stiffened at the touch. "But he's a stick-in-the-mud and would never go there." Lucifer patted Dean several times and stroked him until his hand slid under Dean's shirt to touch bare skin. Dean wanted to move away. He wanted to scream, but instead he squeezed his eyes shut, and endured the caress.
"Jimmy isn't meat," Dean said with another flinch as Lucifer's hand crept farther under his shirt. Dean resisted a smug smile. "And you are so wrong."
"Really?" Lucifer said his hand pausing in its travels. He pulled it out from under Dean's shirt and smacked Dean on the ass, startling Dean. "Do tell."
*
The field went on forever. Tall grass bent from the cool, gentle breeze. Sam stood, looking at his surroundings. The sky was bright blue with no clouds, and there was nothing but long, green grass as far as he could see. Something wasn't right. This wasn't anyplace near Bobby's. Sam was almost sure of that. The last thing he remembered was being in Bobby's kitchen.
He saw a figure in the distance and called out to them, but they had their back to him. Sam started to walk toward the person, but no matter how fast he walked, they never seemed to get closer. He picked up speed, but he still couldn't reach the figure.
"You'll never save him," a voice in his head said. Sam stopped and looked around, frantic.
"Who are you?" he shouted to the figure. Then someone tapped him on the shoulder and Sam spun around.
He sat up covered in sweat. Sam only slightly calmed down when he saw that he was not in fact in some distant wheat field. He was on Bobby's sofa where he'd fallen asleep while doing research. He shuddered at the thought of who had been in his dream, and almost fell off the sofa when he realized that there was somebody standing in the room. It was Castiel, standing with his gaze fixed on the far wall.
"You dreamed of him," Castiel said.
Sam sat up and frowned, rubbing at his face to shake the feeling of exhaustion.
"It's time," Castiel said after a long silence. Sam looked up to find Bobby standing just behind Castiel.
"I'll get supplies," Bobby said and turned to leave the room. Sam stood and stretched, and then turned on Castiel.
"So now it's time," he said, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
"Yes," Castiel said, standing with his hands behind his back and his lips pursed. He focused on Sam. "We'll drive there."
"Why can't you just..." Sam put his hands together and made butterfly flapping motions with them. "...you know..." Sam lowered his hands when Castiel just stared at him as though he were insane.
"Timing is everything," Castiel finally said. He turned and started to head for the front door until Sam grabbed hold of his arm.
"Sorry I was harsh last night," Sam said, feeling sheepish and just a bit awkward. He released Castiel when he realized that the angel was staring down at Sam's grip on his arm.
"We should go," Castiel said. At that moment, Bobby came in with two duffle bags. He'd put on a coat and his baseball cap.
"Let's ride," Sam said. He felt a rush of adrenaline course through him as they moved out to the car. Bobby put his bags in the back of his pick-up truck and got in behind the wheel, while Sam opened the passenger side door and waited for Castiel to slide into the cab. Sam got in beside him, pushing Castiel in further so that he sat between Sam and Bobby. They all buckled in. This was going to be a long ride.
Once they were on the road, Bobby reached for his GPS and pressed a few buttons. The device beeped a few times.
"Where to, angel boy?" Bobby asked. Sam noted that Bobby had barely glanced at Castiel since they had started off on the road.
"I will tell you when you need to know," Castiel replied. Sam flinched at the cool tone, knowing that it might not go over well with Bobby, but to his surprise Bobby just huffed and went back to concentrating on driving. Sam also noted that Bobby seemed to be avoiding physical contact with Castiel, and whether that was intentional or not, it made the cab crowded. Sam nudged Castiel toward Bobby, and cringed when Castiel bumped against Bobby's arm. The truck swerved for a second, and Bobby glared at them both.
Another hundred miles later, and no one had said a word. Sam's phone started to hum. He pulled it out of his coat pocket and stared down at the number. It was Dean. Sam popped the phone open and put it to his ear.
"Dean," he called out.
"Yeah, Sammy, it's me," the voice on the other end said. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't sound hurt or upset or like he'd been tortured or something.
"Where are you?" All thoughts of chastising his brother flew out the wind at the sound of Dean's voice. Sam noted the anxious looks on both Bobby and Castiel faces. Bobby pulled to the side of the road and turned the engine off. "Why did you have to go off on your own?"
"I'm not sure where I am. I think it's some sleazy motel somewhere on planet earth," Dean said. That meant that Dean hadn't looked outside yet.
"Are you alone?" Sam asked the question, afraid of the reply.
"Nope," Dean said. Sam hoped the next words out his brother's mouth were 'hot chick.'
"Well, can you get away?" Sam said, hoping for a yes answer but knowing in his heart that this could never be as easy as that.
"Nope," Dean replied. "Look, could you put Castiel on?"
"Sure," Sam said with a sinking feeling in his heart. Dean had barely given him a clue. Sam reluctantly handed the phone to Castiel. "It's for you."
Castiel took the phone from him and placed it to his ear, seeming just as reluctant as Sam.
"Yes?" A pause told Sam that Dean must have been talking, but he couldn't hear what was being said. Sam leaned in closer in the hope of hearing something.
"I know how this ends," Castiel replied after a long pause. He nodded.
"I'm willing no matter what the outcome." He paused again and glanced at Sam.
"Can I talk to Dean?" Castiel asked. Sam arched his brows. Hadn't he been speaking to Dean already? If he hadn't then who was he talking to? Castiel looked startled and held the phone away from his ear. "He hung up." He handed the phone back to Sam and went back to staring at the road ahead.
"Well," Sam urged. "What did he say?" Castiel turned his head to look at Sam.
"It was Lucifer," he said. His tone was so calm, Sam wanted to grab him and shake him.
"And," Sam said with a hand motion to encourage him to continue.
"And he plans to kill me slowly while you all watch," Castiel said. Bobby slammed his hand on the steering wheel, unbuckled his seat belt and yanked his door open to climb out of the truck. He looked upset and furious and frustrated all at once and Sam didn't blame him. Castiel could be infuriating.
"Then we need a better plan than just driving up to his hideout," Sam said with a wave of his hands.
"We need to drive," Castiel said.
CONTINUED IN PART 2