'Through the fire and the flames'
Title: Through the fire and the flames
Author: Hevyyd
Rating: NC-17
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: none, AU
Warnings: non-con, consumption of blood, some violence
Word Count: 4,363
Summary: Everything is going smoothly when Dean gets captured by dragons. They plan to use him to bring about the queen of all dragons. Also the demons in Castiel's heart, as well as his emotional complexity, dial up another notch.
MASTERPOST
"Hello Dean."
The greeting perked Dean's attention, the way it always had. It had been two months since Castiel had killed the Baku in Dean's dreamscape, two months since the doctors had allowed Dean to be released into Bobby Singers care, two months of watching Dean absorb knowledge at a frightening pace, two months of relishing the contentment in his eyes when he ate whatever Castiel managed to cook for him.
Some parts of Deans rehabilitating were easier than others. Teaching the hunter to read, write, as well as to comprehend arithmetic, philosophy, history, any topic Castiel could think of (It was truly terrifying how quickly Dean's empty mind absorbed knowledge, like he was starved for it) had been painless and enjoyable for both of them, other parts had proved more challenging. The worst of which were teaching Dean how to bathe and dress himself. It had taken all of Castiel's self-control to keep his touch chaste, and several times he would quickly fly outside to smite whatever his eyes fell to first, he would explain the gutted, charred car entrails to Bobby later.
"Hey there Cas." Dean smiled up at the angel, his eyes shimmering emerald, so alive, so alert. He was always happiest to see Castiel whenever he had returned from a short stay in Heaven, he had yet to inform Dean that he was an angel yet, so trips home were simply 'business'.
"How have you fared in my absence?" Castiel questioned, a soft smile on his face.
"I finished all the books you left for me, and Bobby's cooking sucks compared to yours." Dean pouted.
"Can it, ya idjit." Came a voice from another room.
Dean tilted his head back and laughed, so carefree, so innocent.
Not my Dean, a small corner of Castiel's mind asserted, this is an imposter. He shares my loves face and that alone. Not my Dean. Castiel quieted his mind, even while acknowledging that it was right. This Dean was not his, in heart, mind, nor body. But that Dean was gone, and with him Castiel's chance for a mate with which to spend eternity. But more than that, this Dean was so innocent, and quickly becoming independent, He is not damaged, he no longer needs me, Castiel thought silently. He hated having to admit it, but part of him enjoyed Dean's misery, as it meant the human would always come crawling back into his waiting arms where he, the stoic guardian angel, could caress his pain away. The thought made him fume silently with self loathing.
"Hey Cas?" Dean chimed in questioningly.
"Yes?"
"Is everything all right? You look upset." It marveled Castiel how perceptive Dean still was, and unlike before where he would not willingly discuss emotions, this Dean was all too eager to talk about how things felt and why.
"Yes Dean, I am alright," Castiel lied through his flawless mask, "business was more tiring then usual, I think I will take some time off to recuperate."
"Does that mean I'll get to see you more?" Dean inquired, the hopeful inflection in his voice, the way his tongue ghosted over his full, bottom lip. T minus ten seconds until I start smiting, Castiel grumbled to himself, his thoughts coming undone by way of sexual fantasies.
"Yes Dean, nothing would please me more."
"Awesome! Can you make dinner?" Dean grinned a wide, easy smile. Castiel had come to identify this face as the 'I know I'm fucking adorable now gimmie' face. The Winchester had used this face to great effect against officers of the law, witnesses on a case, and countless women. Sadly, Castiel was no exception to it's effects now that Dean turned it on him.
"Did you not just eat?" Castiel responded, raiding an eyebrow and eyeing an empty plate with the remains of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"Bobby's cooking sucks." Dean said simply, pouting his lower lip and giving Castiel the downcast puppy dog eyes. Castiel shuddered before relenting and heading into the kitchen, hoping he would not cause another fire. If only he could relinquish his despair over losing Dean, the real Dean, he could shower this new Dean with all the love and affection that his human seemed to be purposefully wishing from him.
Why would Dean still wish for me though? Castiel mused, heterosexuality was the default setting for humans if anything Castiel knew about them held true. Perhaps he was over thinking it, after all Castiel had become more like a parent to Dean and less like a lover, a thought which caused the angel no end of frustration, if that held true then Dean was simply pestering him as any son would pester a father. Even though Father is not angry I still must serve penance for my feelings, Castiel sighed as he took a package of steaks out and began preparing them. This is what I have been reduced to, an angry part of the angels mind growled, an fucking angel of the Lord preparing a meal for a human, a human I cannot even call mine. Mine, Castiel eyes rolled back in his head and he cracked his neck as he tasted the thought, my Dean, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.
The sound of charring meat brought the angel out of fantasies of Deans naked flesh and red haze.
*
Dean strolled through the halls of dead cars, piled high upon one another, a graveyard for automobiles. He shivered into his blazer and wished that Cas had come out to walk with him, but he was tired from his business trip so that was alright. He rounded a corner and found that this end of Singer Salvage was darker, more intimidating than the rest. So far from the light coming from the front porch, the piles of cars cast long, low shadows across the ground.
Dean jumped despite himself as a car part came tumbling down from a pile behind him, his mind kicking into overdrive as to all the things that could be hiding in the darkness. Wide-eyed and wishing he had the courage to run, Dean sank to the ground and curled himself into a tight ball, rocking back and forth mumbling "Hey Jude" to himself. It wasn't as soothing as when Castiel sang him to sleep, but after five minutes he had calmed his heart rate to a point where he could stand back up.
Dean exhaled deeply, "I'm okay." He said with a smile as a sudden gust of wind kicked up behind him. Calm instantly transformed into terror as he wheeled about to see something reach down and snatch him up. Seeing the sharp, glimmering claws Dean cried out for Cas as loudly as he could, but even as the sound escaped his lips darkness closed in all around him and he knew no more.
*
"Dean, Dean!" Castiel cried out as he searched through the piles upon piles of cars. The angel berated himself over and over for allowing Dean to leave his side even for a moment. What's worse was that he had been so occupied with his thoughts and his correspondence with heaven he hadn't even noticed when Dean failed to return from his walk. It was now morning and Dean was still missing, he was probably dead. The thought made anger roil beneath his vessels flesh.
Castiel turned, about to smite a nearby car when Bobby's voice stayed his hand. "Cas! I think I found something!" he heard the older hunter call, in a moment he had flown to his side. Tattered remains of deans blazer and shirt were strewn across the ground, but what's more deep claw marks had been scored into the earth around where the tracks from Deans shoes had ended.
"What do you think this is?" Castiel inquired, he had much experience with the creatures that roamed the earth in current times, but nothing he knew of could do this and still be so discreet.
"If I didn't know any better," Bobby grumbled, "and I hope I'm wrong, these are dragon tracks."
"Dragons." Castiel repeated, his mind reeling. "They should be extinct, no? The last dragons should have been slain during your dark ages."
"That's right, they should have. But I guess not." Bobby sighed, "And since you carved up Deans ribs, you cant find him, meaning we do this the old fashioned way."
"And what way might that be?"
"Research Cas. Research."
*
Dean woke slowly, his whole body ached as though he had been running. Looking around he seemed to be in a cave of some sort, piles of what looked like gold were scattered about the corners of the room, and the floors felt like they were carpeted. A sharp pain around his ankle informed him that he was shackled to the floor. Several people walked in as Dean began taking deep, slow breaths, trying to keep himself calm.
The first voice whistled, "Look at that, you caught us a handsome one Tarva, a little scrawny for me though." Must be a girl, voice was too high.
A second voice answered, this one was low and strong. "He is not for you. This whelp is our sacrifice."
"What? This shrimp?" A third voice rang in, it had a leering tone to it, "There is no way mother will be pleased with such a puny sacrifice boss."
The second voice sounded in again, a deep chuckle that sounded a little too much like a growl as well, Dean guessed he must be this 'Tarva' person. "Don't worry about that Vilol, I have plan for that as well." Dean heard the sound of heavy shoes on the cave floor as one of them walked over to him. A man knelt before him, he was tall and densely muscled with thick dark hair cut short and a tight moustache. "Hello boy."
"What do you want." Dean replied meekly.
Tarva kicked his head back and laughed, a growl curling around the corners, when his eyes met Deans again they had narrowed into lizard like slits and fire licked along the corners of his mouth. "Do I scare you?" his voice was rich with malice. Dean shrank away but the chain around his ankle held him steady, Tarva merely chuckled. "Relax pup, I mean you no harm, yet. In fact, are you hungry? perhaps a meal would restore your courage."
Dean was picked up as though he was weightless, the chain pulled along as though it didn't exist. It made Dean embarrassed, he suddenly became aware of how thin and weak he was compared to this giant of a man, as Tarva carried Dean over to a long table he spied a glimpse of the other two. The woman was of average height, her black hair was fierce and messy, she dressed in biker leathers like her compatriots, and she looked dangerous. The second man was also tall, but shorter than the man carrying Dean, he was also less muscular, but his amber eyes looked sharp and quick.
Dean was set down at the table with a feast of all different kinds of food stretched out before him. The smell alone got his mouth watering, and he felt as though he had not eaten in days. "Eat." He could hear Tarva saying, but before Dean could dig in he stopped himself. He had read plenty of fairy tails in the books Cas had left him and this screamed BAD IDEA. So with all his self-restraint, he frowned up at the large man.
"I'm sorry, I'm not hungry."
"Really now?" The man raised an eyebrow and smirked, he took a goblet from the table and with a quick scrape of his thumb across his wrist, began to bleed into it. When the cup ran full the wound quickly seared itself shut with a white-hot burn and the smell of burning coal. "Then here, drink." This was not a question, Tarva took Deans face in his hands, overpowering him easily, forced his mouth open and poured the red-hot blood down Deans throat. Surprisingly it tasted amazing, it was warm and smokey, it put a fire in his belly and replaced the ache in the muscles with an intense hunger. Deans eyes rolled back in his head as he swallowed the last drops of the blood, when he had finished he attacked the food placed before him wit bestial fervor, he couldn't swallow fast enough to sate the fire in his belly.
"How come YOU get to feed him your blood boss?" The second man whined.
"Because I am the brood-father, and your not Vilol." Tarva grinned, asserting his dominance. Vilol exhaled and stalked off, not wanting to pick a fight. The elder man sat on the table and smiled as he watched his blood go to work on the sacrifice, the human consumed and consumed, his body growing all the while whilst under the effects of his blood. When the human gasped and swallowed as though he were thirsty he slit his wrist open again with a deft motion. "Here little one," he purred, petting Deans head as he brought his wrist to his lips and suckled hard, ignoring the empty goblet, "that's a good boy, drink as much as you like."
*
Even with Castiel not needing to sleep he and Bobby needed a whole day to gather all the lore on dragons they could find. They were shape shifters but silver could not harm them, strong in both human and dragons forms, brilliant, and capable of breathing fire. Not to mention rather prolific in the magical arts, dragons were some of the most premiere spell weavers in the dark ages. Their scales were harder than diamond and they could don them even when in human form, to make matters worse though they could only breathe fire in dragon form they could superheat their bodies with white flame.
"In short," Bobby concluded, slamming the final book shut, "they're fucking perfect, or damn near it. They only thing that can hurt a dragon is a blade forged in dragon blood."
"That is paradoxical." Castiel pointed out, "You need the blade to harm a dragon yet a dragon can only be harmed by the blade which can only be forged from dragon blood which can-"
"Shut up Cas."
"Apologies. However I am confident enough that I can harm them."
"You can smite things besides demons?" Bobby questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course, the only thing Gods light cannot harm physically is another angel."
"That's handy."
It had taken an hour to piece together various clues while pouring over local maps to get a rough estimate of where the dragon lair could be. Sadly the two of them could only narrow it down so far before it simply became a matter of checking each possible location individually. Bobby spent the next twenty minutes gathering weapons and supplies, only to curse loudly when he remembered they would all be worthless against a dragon, and decided to simply pack his first aid supplies.
Castiel closed his eyes and prayed that Dean was still alive as Bobby placed a hand on his shoulder. Ever since Deans mind had been consumed their bond had been different, muddied, hard to read, as though now he was linked to someone he no longer understood. It upset him and he vowed to rectify it as he spread his wings and carried himself and Bobby to their first destination.
*
Dean leaned against the cool rocks of the cell where he was being held. His entire being was on fire and his head was clouded by a haze for fire and hunger and want, though he couldn't think of what it was he wanted. A rattling on the bars of his cell made him bring his eyes back down and see what was causing the racket.
"Well well, look at you," chirped Vilol, apparently the youngest of his captors, "I swear Tarva's blood is like steroids on steroids when it comes to you humans, your kinda hot now..." His captors voice trailed off as he licked his lips and his eyes glazed over with a look Dean was not familiar with. Vilol opened the door and slipped inside before easily strolling up to Dean. "You thirsty boy?"
Thirsty, Tarva had asked him that, and the drink had made him feel good. Dean nodded.
"Here then," The man growled softly as he undid the zipper to his pants and pulled out his manhood. A soft warning in the back of Deans mind didn't like where this was going, but before he could shy away Vilol had ran his thumb along his length, the burning scent of his blood filled Deans nostrils. Even while trying to deny himself Dean found his body lurching forward, taking the throbbing member into his mouth and sucking on it hungrily. It only took a moment before he had to stop and gasp for breath.
"Pssh, your a crappy cock sucker, "Vilol complained as Dean tried again and failed to suck on the entire length of him. "Whatever, there are other ways I can give you my blood." He grabbed Dean and tore the remnants of his shirt from his chest, sinking his teeth into his exposed neck. Dean gasped and shook, but the dragon held him in place firmly.
Dean hardly knew what was happening as he found himself being stripped naked, but he knew he didn't like it and wanted it to stop, even through the bloody haze enveloping his mind. "No, I don't want this, stop." He muttered again and again as the man worked his hands over Deans body, feeling every muscle, scratching at his back hard enough to draw blood. Dean was thrown to the floor as Vilol snarled behind him, flames licking his lips. Hands searching for the space of his ass, the sound of spit, fingers pressing against him, trying to gain entry.
"No! Stop it! Cas, help me!" He didn't know how loudly he had screamed but the pressure against him faded and he could hear the heavy footsteps of Tarva entering his cell. The elder dragon roared as he slammed Vilol against the wall with enough force to make the cave shake and embed him in the rocks.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING!" He roared again, scales rippling down his skin as claws grew from nails and bit straight into Vilol's throat, drawing blood. "What part of 'the sacrifice must be virginal' do you not understand you ignorant, self righteous pissant!" Vilol tried to respond but all Dean could hear was the gurgling sound of blood trapped in his throat, he curled himself into a tight ball and prayed for Cas to rescue him.
"Do you not wish for our mother to return? Do you?!" Tarva shook the young dragon again as his eyes hazed over. Growling again he released his hold, "Idiot." The dragon looked about the room to find Dean curled in a corner muttering to himself, fair enough as he had almost had a dragon force himself upon him. The dragon knelt before Dean and offered him blood from his thumb, which he gladly accepted, perhaps after resurrecting mother he could keep the mortal as a consort for when he no longer was needed to sire a brood. The elder dragons thoughts were disrupted as he heard the sound of his mate screaming.
*
Castiel had been mid-flight when he had heard Dean call to him, sharp, clear, and full of terror. He and Bobby materialized in a cave littered with gold and instantly he knew they had the right place. But one of the dragons had been waiting for them, a woman who was busy preparing what appeared to be a summoning circle when an angel interrupted her. She roared at the intruders and lunged at Castiel. She was easily dispatched with an angry pulse of his Grace.
"What was she doing?" Castiel asked aloud as her casually tossed the limp body aside.
"Looks like they were trying to summon something, lemme take a look." Bobby set a book down beside the sigil and began to examine it as a second dragon this one male and impossibly large and muscular barreled into the room and slammed into Castiel.
"How dare you!" The dragon roared as he pulled a fist back and brought it slamming down into Castiel's jaw, shattering his vessels bone. Before the angel could react he was thrown into a wall, buried in the sharp, jagged stones. Moving far to fast for one his size Castiel groaned and spit forth blood as two scaled, claw tipped hands dug themselves into his chest, attempting to pull out his lungs as an enraged dragon roared in his face, his eyes glimmering dangerously and flames curling from his nostrils.
"Bobby, close your eyes." Castiel choked out, blood dripping from his mouth. The older hunter quickly did as instructed as Castiel unshackled his Grace from the body of Jimmy Novack with an angelic scream. The dragons eyes went wide as he was immolated from the pure light coming off of Castiel in waves. When he settled back down inside his vessel he quickly restored it's body before walking back over to Bobby.
"That was painful." he stated, rather nonchalantly.
Bobby opened his mouth to reply, but then pointed to the book he was referencing. "Look at this Cas," he began, "Says here this is a ritual to summon Tiamat, the deceased queen mother of all dragons. Says you need the blood of a man reborn."
A man reborn, Castiel thought, well that explains why they wanted Dean. "We must find him," Castiel said, interrupting Bobby, "If the dragons are dead we need not worry about their ritual, all that matters is Deans safety." He hastily began exploring what was left of the dragons lair, Bobby following behind. The last room they searched was a cell where they found another dragon who had been impaled into the wall and killed, probably by the elder dragon Castiel had vaporized (he felt rather proud of himself for that one, not every angel can say they've faced dragons) as well as Dean, whimpering and naked in a corner, his clothes shredded everywhere.
Castiel was instantly to Deans side. When he was closer he realized that Dean looked different, very different. When he had last seen the hunter his body was then from a year of not eating, now it was even more muscled and toned than it ever had been. Bobby had noticed as well, and after mouthing a 'what in the name of Pete' he turned back to his book for a moment before swearing softly.
"What is it?" Castiel inquired, removing his coat and wrapping it around Dean, the hunter noticed Castiel and threw himself into the angels arms and began to sob, shivering while Castiel held him silently.
"Dragon blood." Bobby replied grimly.
"What about it?"
"They probably force-fed Dean some, lots of it looking at him. It's got magical properties, dragons blood, it can cure the sick, turn a ninety-pound shrimp into a fucking strongman, and in some cases even leaves traces of magic on humans. Bad part is it's one hundred percent addictive."
The color drained slightly from Castiel's face. "Does that mean Dean is addicted to the blood?"
"Well, according to this the spell of longing is broken if the dragon who gave the blood is slain, which I'm guessing was the big guy. If that's true we probably dodged the bullet there. Lets see how Dean feels."
Castiel pulled Dean into his lap and cradled him until the hunter had clamed himself enough to look up at Castiel. The moment their eyes met all fear seemed to leave him and Dean happily hugged the angel. "I knew you'd come." He said happily.
"Dean?"
"Yes Cas?"
"How do you feel?" Castiel asked, eyeing dean intently.
"Um, fine, a little sore I guess, but I'm okay."
Castiel exhaled a sigh of relief, perhaps Dean would be fine. "Are you sure? No aches or pains? You can think clearly? Any hunger or thirst?"
"No way, I'm stuffed I cant eat another bite." Dean feigned gagging.
Castiel would have been content to leave it there, but Bobby pushed the questioning further. "You sure your alright boy? Why were you clothes torn off, they didn't..." He trailed off, not wanting to voice his fears.
"Vilol," Dean said, pointing to the dead dragon in the wall, "he tried to, he touched me, took my clothes off, tried to do things even though I said no." Deans eyes were misting over. "I'm sorry, I'm so stupid this is all my fault." He began crying into Castiel's shoulder all over again. Rage roiled under Castiel's skin but he suppressed it, Dean needed him again, his stoic guardian, and that would slake his list for retribution for the time being.
"Dean." Castiel whispered, "did he?"
"No," Dean replied hollowly, Castiel hated hearing him like this, even as he secretly relished his hunters renewed reliance on him. "Tarva the biggest one, he stopped him before he could, killed him for it." He clung to Castiel tighter. He wept silently for several long minutes before regaining his composure, and several more of Castiel stroking his hair soothingly, telling him that it was not his fault, and that he was very brave for not letting Vilol do things that he did not want. Finally Dean was calm again, and he stood up, pulling Castiel's coat around himself and trying to cover up as much as possible. "Can we go home?"
"Course we can boy." Bobby smiled, throwing an arm around Deans shoulder reassuringly. The three of them made their way to the front of the cave again, making one final sweep to ensure there were no other dragons, even though Dean insisted there had been only three. As Castiel prepared to fly them all out Deans eyes locked onto something in the corner and he dashed over to it, clasping it in his hands.
"Sorry," he smiled innocently, holding a gold coin in his hands, "shiny."
Bobby and Castiel exchanged a worried glance.
Author: Hevyyd
Rating: NC-17
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: none, AU
Warnings: non-con, consumption of blood, some violence
Word Count: 4,363
Summary: Everything is going smoothly when Dean gets captured by dragons. They plan to use him to bring about the queen of all dragons. Also the demons in Castiel's heart, as well as his emotional complexity, dial up another notch.
MASTERPOST
"Hello Dean."
The greeting perked Dean's attention, the way it always had. It had been two months since Castiel had killed the Baku in Dean's dreamscape, two months since the doctors had allowed Dean to be released into Bobby Singers care, two months of watching Dean absorb knowledge at a frightening pace, two months of relishing the contentment in his eyes when he ate whatever Castiel managed to cook for him.
Some parts of Deans rehabilitating were easier than others. Teaching the hunter to read, write, as well as to comprehend arithmetic, philosophy, history, any topic Castiel could think of (It was truly terrifying how quickly Dean's empty mind absorbed knowledge, like he was starved for it) had been painless and enjoyable for both of them, other parts had proved more challenging. The worst of which were teaching Dean how to bathe and dress himself. It had taken all of Castiel's self-control to keep his touch chaste, and several times he would quickly fly outside to smite whatever his eyes fell to first, he would explain the gutted, charred car entrails to Bobby later.
"Hey there Cas." Dean smiled up at the angel, his eyes shimmering emerald, so alive, so alert. He was always happiest to see Castiel whenever he had returned from a short stay in Heaven, he had yet to inform Dean that he was an angel yet, so trips home were simply 'business'.
"How have you fared in my absence?" Castiel questioned, a soft smile on his face.
"I finished all the books you left for me, and Bobby's cooking sucks compared to yours." Dean pouted.
"Can it, ya idjit." Came a voice from another room.
Dean tilted his head back and laughed, so carefree, so innocent.
Not my Dean, a small corner of Castiel's mind asserted, this is an imposter. He shares my loves face and that alone. Not my Dean. Castiel quieted his mind, even while acknowledging that it was right. This Dean was not his, in heart, mind, nor body. But that Dean was gone, and with him Castiel's chance for a mate with which to spend eternity. But more than that, this Dean was so innocent, and quickly becoming independent, He is not damaged, he no longer needs me, Castiel thought silently. He hated having to admit it, but part of him enjoyed Dean's misery, as it meant the human would always come crawling back into his waiting arms where he, the stoic guardian angel, could caress his pain away. The thought made him fume silently with self loathing.
"Hey Cas?" Dean chimed in questioningly.
"Yes?"
"Is everything all right? You look upset." It marveled Castiel how perceptive Dean still was, and unlike before where he would not willingly discuss emotions, this Dean was all too eager to talk about how things felt and why.
"Yes Dean, I am alright," Castiel lied through his flawless mask, "business was more tiring then usual, I think I will take some time off to recuperate."
"Does that mean I'll get to see you more?" Dean inquired, the hopeful inflection in his voice, the way his tongue ghosted over his full, bottom lip. T minus ten seconds until I start smiting, Castiel grumbled to himself, his thoughts coming undone by way of sexual fantasies.
"Yes Dean, nothing would please me more."
"Awesome! Can you make dinner?" Dean grinned a wide, easy smile. Castiel had come to identify this face as the 'I know I'm fucking adorable now gimmie' face. The Winchester had used this face to great effect against officers of the law, witnesses on a case, and countless women. Sadly, Castiel was no exception to it's effects now that Dean turned it on him.
"Did you not just eat?" Castiel responded, raiding an eyebrow and eyeing an empty plate with the remains of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"Bobby's cooking sucks." Dean said simply, pouting his lower lip and giving Castiel the downcast puppy dog eyes. Castiel shuddered before relenting and heading into the kitchen, hoping he would not cause another fire. If only he could relinquish his despair over losing Dean, the real Dean, he could shower this new Dean with all the love and affection that his human seemed to be purposefully wishing from him.
Why would Dean still wish for me though? Castiel mused, heterosexuality was the default setting for humans if anything Castiel knew about them held true. Perhaps he was over thinking it, after all Castiel had become more like a parent to Dean and less like a lover, a thought which caused the angel no end of frustration, if that held true then Dean was simply pestering him as any son would pester a father. Even though Father is not angry I still must serve penance for my feelings, Castiel sighed as he took a package of steaks out and began preparing them. This is what I have been reduced to, an angry part of the angels mind growled, an fucking angel of the Lord preparing a meal for a human, a human I cannot even call mine. Mine, Castiel eyes rolled back in his head and he cracked his neck as he tasted the thought, my Dean, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.
The sound of charring meat brought the angel out of fantasies of Deans naked flesh and red haze.
*
Dean strolled through the halls of dead cars, piled high upon one another, a graveyard for automobiles. He shivered into his blazer and wished that Cas had come out to walk with him, but he was tired from his business trip so that was alright. He rounded a corner and found that this end of Singer Salvage was darker, more intimidating than the rest. So far from the light coming from the front porch, the piles of cars cast long, low shadows across the ground.
Dean jumped despite himself as a car part came tumbling down from a pile behind him, his mind kicking into overdrive as to all the things that could be hiding in the darkness. Wide-eyed and wishing he had the courage to run, Dean sank to the ground and curled himself into a tight ball, rocking back and forth mumbling "Hey Jude" to himself. It wasn't as soothing as when Castiel sang him to sleep, but after five minutes he had calmed his heart rate to a point where he could stand back up.
Dean exhaled deeply, "I'm okay." He said with a smile as a sudden gust of wind kicked up behind him. Calm instantly transformed into terror as he wheeled about to see something reach down and snatch him up. Seeing the sharp, glimmering claws Dean cried out for Cas as loudly as he could, but even as the sound escaped his lips darkness closed in all around him and he knew no more.
*
"Dean, Dean!" Castiel cried out as he searched through the piles upon piles of cars. The angel berated himself over and over for allowing Dean to leave his side even for a moment. What's worse was that he had been so occupied with his thoughts and his correspondence with heaven he hadn't even noticed when Dean failed to return from his walk. It was now morning and Dean was still missing, he was probably dead. The thought made anger roil beneath his vessels flesh.
Castiel turned, about to smite a nearby car when Bobby's voice stayed his hand. "Cas! I think I found something!" he heard the older hunter call, in a moment he had flown to his side. Tattered remains of deans blazer and shirt were strewn across the ground, but what's more deep claw marks had been scored into the earth around where the tracks from Deans shoes had ended.
"What do you think this is?" Castiel inquired, he had much experience with the creatures that roamed the earth in current times, but nothing he knew of could do this and still be so discreet.
"If I didn't know any better," Bobby grumbled, "and I hope I'm wrong, these are dragon tracks."
"Dragons." Castiel repeated, his mind reeling. "They should be extinct, no? The last dragons should have been slain during your dark ages."
"That's right, they should have. But I guess not." Bobby sighed, "And since you carved up Deans ribs, you cant find him, meaning we do this the old fashioned way."
"And what way might that be?"
"Research Cas. Research."
*
Dean woke slowly, his whole body ached as though he had been running. Looking around he seemed to be in a cave of some sort, piles of what looked like gold were scattered about the corners of the room, and the floors felt like they were carpeted. A sharp pain around his ankle informed him that he was shackled to the floor. Several people walked in as Dean began taking deep, slow breaths, trying to keep himself calm.
The first voice whistled, "Look at that, you caught us a handsome one Tarva, a little scrawny for me though." Must be a girl, voice was too high.
A second voice answered, this one was low and strong. "He is not for you. This whelp is our sacrifice."
"What? This shrimp?" A third voice rang in, it had a leering tone to it, "There is no way mother will be pleased with such a puny sacrifice boss."
The second voice sounded in again, a deep chuckle that sounded a little too much like a growl as well, Dean guessed he must be this 'Tarva' person. "Don't worry about that Vilol, I have plan for that as well." Dean heard the sound of heavy shoes on the cave floor as one of them walked over to him. A man knelt before him, he was tall and densely muscled with thick dark hair cut short and a tight moustache. "Hello boy."
"What do you want." Dean replied meekly.
Tarva kicked his head back and laughed, a growl curling around the corners, when his eyes met Deans again they had narrowed into lizard like slits and fire licked along the corners of his mouth. "Do I scare you?" his voice was rich with malice. Dean shrank away but the chain around his ankle held him steady, Tarva merely chuckled. "Relax pup, I mean you no harm, yet. In fact, are you hungry? perhaps a meal would restore your courage."
Dean was picked up as though he was weightless, the chain pulled along as though it didn't exist. It made Dean embarrassed, he suddenly became aware of how thin and weak he was compared to this giant of a man, as Tarva carried Dean over to a long table he spied a glimpse of the other two. The woman was of average height, her black hair was fierce and messy, she dressed in biker leathers like her compatriots, and she looked dangerous. The second man was also tall, but shorter than the man carrying Dean, he was also less muscular, but his amber eyes looked sharp and quick.
Dean was set down at the table with a feast of all different kinds of food stretched out before him. The smell alone got his mouth watering, and he felt as though he had not eaten in days. "Eat." He could hear Tarva saying, but before Dean could dig in he stopped himself. He had read plenty of fairy tails in the books Cas had left him and this screamed BAD IDEA. So with all his self-restraint, he frowned up at the large man.
"I'm sorry, I'm not hungry."
"Really now?" The man raised an eyebrow and smirked, he took a goblet from the table and with a quick scrape of his thumb across his wrist, began to bleed into it. When the cup ran full the wound quickly seared itself shut with a white-hot burn and the smell of burning coal. "Then here, drink." This was not a question, Tarva took Deans face in his hands, overpowering him easily, forced his mouth open and poured the red-hot blood down Deans throat. Surprisingly it tasted amazing, it was warm and smokey, it put a fire in his belly and replaced the ache in the muscles with an intense hunger. Deans eyes rolled back in his head as he swallowed the last drops of the blood, when he had finished he attacked the food placed before him wit bestial fervor, he couldn't swallow fast enough to sate the fire in his belly.
"How come YOU get to feed him your blood boss?" The second man whined.
"Because I am the brood-father, and your not Vilol." Tarva grinned, asserting his dominance. Vilol exhaled and stalked off, not wanting to pick a fight. The elder man sat on the table and smiled as he watched his blood go to work on the sacrifice, the human consumed and consumed, his body growing all the while whilst under the effects of his blood. When the human gasped and swallowed as though he were thirsty he slit his wrist open again with a deft motion. "Here little one," he purred, petting Deans head as he brought his wrist to his lips and suckled hard, ignoring the empty goblet, "that's a good boy, drink as much as you like."
*
Even with Castiel not needing to sleep he and Bobby needed a whole day to gather all the lore on dragons they could find. They were shape shifters but silver could not harm them, strong in both human and dragons forms, brilliant, and capable of breathing fire. Not to mention rather prolific in the magical arts, dragons were some of the most premiere spell weavers in the dark ages. Their scales were harder than diamond and they could don them even when in human form, to make matters worse though they could only breathe fire in dragon form they could superheat their bodies with white flame.
"In short," Bobby concluded, slamming the final book shut, "they're fucking perfect, or damn near it. They only thing that can hurt a dragon is a blade forged in dragon blood."
"That is paradoxical." Castiel pointed out, "You need the blade to harm a dragon yet a dragon can only be harmed by the blade which can only be forged from dragon blood which can-"
"Shut up Cas."
"Apologies. However I am confident enough that I can harm them."
"You can smite things besides demons?" Bobby questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course, the only thing Gods light cannot harm physically is another angel."
"That's handy."
It had taken an hour to piece together various clues while pouring over local maps to get a rough estimate of where the dragon lair could be. Sadly the two of them could only narrow it down so far before it simply became a matter of checking each possible location individually. Bobby spent the next twenty minutes gathering weapons and supplies, only to curse loudly when he remembered they would all be worthless against a dragon, and decided to simply pack his first aid supplies.
Castiel closed his eyes and prayed that Dean was still alive as Bobby placed a hand on his shoulder. Ever since Deans mind had been consumed their bond had been different, muddied, hard to read, as though now he was linked to someone he no longer understood. It upset him and he vowed to rectify it as he spread his wings and carried himself and Bobby to their first destination.
*
Dean leaned against the cool rocks of the cell where he was being held. His entire being was on fire and his head was clouded by a haze for fire and hunger and want, though he couldn't think of what it was he wanted. A rattling on the bars of his cell made him bring his eyes back down and see what was causing the racket.
"Well well, look at you," chirped Vilol, apparently the youngest of his captors, "I swear Tarva's blood is like steroids on steroids when it comes to you humans, your kinda hot now..." His captors voice trailed off as he licked his lips and his eyes glazed over with a look Dean was not familiar with. Vilol opened the door and slipped inside before easily strolling up to Dean. "You thirsty boy?"
Thirsty, Tarva had asked him that, and the drink had made him feel good. Dean nodded.
"Here then," The man growled softly as he undid the zipper to his pants and pulled out his manhood. A soft warning in the back of Deans mind didn't like where this was going, but before he could shy away Vilol had ran his thumb along his length, the burning scent of his blood filled Deans nostrils. Even while trying to deny himself Dean found his body lurching forward, taking the throbbing member into his mouth and sucking on it hungrily. It only took a moment before he had to stop and gasp for breath.
"Pssh, your a crappy cock sucker, "Vilol complained as Dean tried again and failed to suck on the entire length of him. "Whatever, there are other ways I can give you my blood." He grabbed Dean and tore the remnants of his shirt from his chest, sinking his teeth into his exposed neck. Dean gasped and shook, but the dragon held him in place firmly.
Dean hardly knew what was happening as he found himself being stripped naked, but he knew he didn't like it and wanted it to stop, even through the bloody haze enveloping his mind. "No, I don't want this, stop." He muttered again and again as the man worked his hands over Deans body, feeling every muscle, scratching at his back hard enough to draw blood. Dean was thrown to the floor as Vilol snarled behind him, flames licking his lips. Hands searching for the space of his ass, the sound of spit, fingers pressing against him, trying to gain entry.
"No! Stop it! Cas, help me!" He didn't know how loudly he had screamed but the pressure against him faded and he could hear the heavy footsteps of Tarva entering his cell. The elder dragon roared as he slammed Vilol against the wall with enough force to make the cave shake and embed him in the rocks.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING!" He roared again, scales rippling down his skin as claws grew from nails and bit straight into Vilol's throat, drawing blood. "What part of 'the sacrifice must be virginal' do you not understand you ignorant, self righteous pissant!" Vilol tried to respond but all Dean could hear was the gurgling sound of blood trapped in his throat, he curled himself into a tight ball and prayed for Cas to rescue him.
"Do you not wish for our mother to return? Do you?!" Tarva shook the young dragon again as his eyes hazed over. Growling again he released his hold, "Idiot." The dragon looked about the room to find Dean curled in a corner muttering to himself, fair enough as he had almost had a dragon force himself upon him. The dragon knelt before Dean and offered him blood from his thumb, which he gladly accepted, perhaps after resurrecting mother he could keep the mortal as a consort for when he no longer was needed to sire a brood. The elder dragons thoughts were disrupted as he heard the sound of his mate screaming.
*
Castiel had been mid-flight when he had heard Dean call to him, sharp, clear, and full of terror. He and Bobby materialized in a cave littered with gold and instantly he knew they had the right place. But one of the dragons had been waiting for them, a woman who was busy preparing what appeared to be a summoning circle when an angel interrupted her. She roared at the intruders and lunged at Castiel. She was easily dispatched with an angry pulse of his Grace.
"What was she doing?" Castiel asked aloud as her casually tossed the limp body aside.
"Looks like they were trying to summon something, lemme take a look." Bobby set a book down beside the sigil and began to examine it as a second dragon this one male and impossibly large and muscular barreled into the room and slammed into Castiel.
"How dare you!" The dragon roared as he pulled a fist back and brought it slamming down into Castiel's jaw, shattering his vessels bone. Before the angel could react he was thrown into a wall, buried in the sharp, jagged stones. Moving far to fast for one his size Castiel groaned and spit forth blood as two scaled, claw tipped hands dug themselves into his chest, attempting to pull out his lungs as an enraged dragon roared in his face, his eyes glimmering dangerously and flames curling from his nostrils.
"Bobby, close your eyes." Castiel choked out, blood dripping from his mouth. The older hunter quickly did as instructed as Castiel unshackled his Grace from the body of Jimmy Novack with an angelic scream. The dragons eyes went wide as he was immolated from the pure light coming off of Castiel in waves. When he settled back down inside his vessel he quickly restored it's body before walking back over to Bobby.
"That was painful." he stated, rather nonchalantly.
Bobby opened his mouth to reply, but then pointed to the book he was referencing. "Look at this Cas," he began, "Says here this is a ritual to summon Tiamat, the deceased queen mother of all dragons. Says you need the blood of a man reborn."
A man reborn, Castiel thought, well that explains why they wanted Dean. "We must find him," Castiel said, interrupting Bobby, "If the dragons are dead we need not worry about their ritual, all that matters is Deans safety." He hastily began exploring what was left of the dragons lair, Bobby following behind. The last room they searched was a cell where they found another dragon who had been impaled into the wall and killed, probably by the elder dragon Castiel had vaporized (he felt rather proud of himself for that one, not every angel can say they've faced dragons) as well as Dean, whimpering and naked in a corner, his clothes shredded everywhere.
Castiel was instantly to Deans side. When he was closer he realized that Dean looked different, very different. When he had last seen the hunter his body was then from a year of not eating, now it was even more muscled and toned than it ever had been. Bobby had noticed as well, and after mouthing a 'what in the name of Pete' he turned back to his book for a moment before swearing softly.
"What is it?" Castiel inquired, removing his coat and wrapping it around Dean, the hunter noticed Castiel and threw himself into the angels arms and began to sob, shivering while Castiel held him silently.
"Dragon blood." Bobby replied grimly.
"What about it?"
"They probably force-fed Dean some, lots of it looking at him. It's got magical properties, dragons blood, it can cure the sick, turn a ninety-pound shrimp into a fucking strongman, and in some cases even leaves traces of magic on humans. Bad part is it's one hundred percent addictive."
The color drained slightly from Castiel's face. "Does that mean Dean is addicted to the blood?"
"Well, according to this the spell of longing is broken if the dragon who gave the blood is slain, which I'm guessing was the big guy. If that's true we probably dodged the bullet there. Lets see how Dean feels."
Castiel pulled Dean into his lap and cradled him until the hunter had clamed himself enough to look up at Castiel. The moment their eyes met all fear seemed to leave him and Dean happily hugged the angel. "I knew you'd come." He said happily.
"Dean?"
"Yes Cas?"
"How do you feel?" Castiel asked, eyeing dean intently.
"Um, fine, a little sore I guess, but I'm okay."
Castiel exhaled a sigh of relief, perhaps Dean would be fine. "Are you sure? No aches or pains? You can think clearly? Any hunger or thirst?"
"No way, I'm stuffed I cant eat another bite." Dean feigned gagging.
Castiel would have been content to leave it there, but Bobby pushed the questioning further. "You sure your alright boy? Why were you clothes torn off, they didn't..." He trailed off, not wanting to voice his fears.
"Vilol," Dean said, pointing to the dead dragon in the wall, "he tried to, he touched me, took my clothes off, tried to do things even though I said no." Deans eyes were misting over. "I'm sorry, I'm so stupid this is all my fault." He began crying into Castiel's shoulder all over again. Rage roiled under Castiel's skin but he suppressed it, Dean needed him again, his stoic guardian, and that would slake his list for retribution for the time being.
"Dean." Castiel whispered, "did he?"
"No," Dean replied hollowly, Castiel hated hearing him like this, even as he secretly relished his hunters renewed reliance on him. "Tarva the biggest one, he stopped him before he could, killed him for it." He clung to Castiel tighter. He wept silently for several long minutes before regaining his composure, and several more of Castiel stroking his hair soothingly, telling him that it was not his fault, and that he was very brave for not letting Vilol do things that he did not want. Finally Dean was calm again, and he stood up, pulling Castiel's coat around himself and trying to cover up as much as possible. "Can we go home?"
"Course we can boy." Bobby smiled, throwing an arm around Deans shoulder reassuringly. The three of them made their way to the front of the cave again, making one final sweep to ensure there were no other dragons, even though Dean insisted there had been only three. As Castiel prepared to fly them all out Deans eyes locked onto something in the corner and he dashed over to it, clasping it in his hands.
"Sorry," he smiled innocently, holding a gold coin in his hands, "shiny."
Bobby and Castiel exchanged a worried glance.