Fic: Leverage, For: scalpelsplease
Leverage
For: scalpelsplease
Prompt: Kiss on the neck [ Request here]
Notes: Alistair is scalpelsplease and Castiel is diefirst, used without permission... kinda. I hope you enjoy! :D
"Fuck you, you pathetic, slimy little bitch." Dean was pissed they'd been stupid enough to walk into this, Alistair's smug smirk making him want to throw up or punch him, probably both. He and Cas had been working this case alone, Sam's own time consumed in researching how to kill the devil. Like that was written in any book they'd already come across, but since Jo and Ellen, and Lucifer's insistence he would say yes, he'd had trouble leaving their motel room, let alone going on a hunt. He said it was something about not wanting to be out in the open, not wanting to be an open target, and no matter how many times Dean had tried to convince his brother otherwise, he and Cas were being left to do the legwork more often.
How they hadn't worked out what they were walking into first was currently beyond him, but he figured that was more to do with how both he and Cas were pinned up to the wall, the demon too close for his liking. Alistair was showing off his little Enochian artefact, something that was keeping Cas in place and unable to use his own powers to get them the hell out of there, at least.
"Sticks and stones... now, now, boy, don't hurt my feelings." He had his toy table out too, laiden with all his favorite blades, and even with his own experience, Dean was unnerved to see a couple of new items there, lined up with the rest. He didn't even know what they did, just that he had no doubt they weren't going to tickle. "The thing is... we need your little, ickle, baby brother to say yes."
Dean was trying to turn his head to look at Cas, needed to see he was as alright as he could be, but Alistair's power had him pressed tightly and painfully into the wall, and as much as he wanted to call out for him, he didn't want draw any attention to his concern. He knew how Alistair worked, knew whatever happened, he'd prod and poke at his weaknesses, even if that was the angel, now.
"Your featherboy is still in one piece, for now." Dean blinked as Alistair was suddenly up in his face, not liking the way he was leering, or calling Cas 'his'. Apparently his acting skills weren't as convincing as he thought they were. "We'll call him..." He seemed to step back and shoot Cas a look of complete and utter distain, stepping so close he could feel the words on his skin "Leverage."
It made Dean's skin crawl, both Alistair's proximity and what he was implying, his body reacting on instinct and trying to jerk forward out of the invisible hold to headbutt the demon, anything to take his attention away from Cas being there too. He pulled himself together, and despite Alistair being all up in his face, shot him a withering look. "What, you're resorting to threats now? You're not good enough to make me change my mind yourself? Alistair... I thought you were better than that."
Apparently his jibe worked, Alistair retreating to the table to pick up a scalpel, returned moments later to press the blade into his cheek, the burn instant and blood spotting the very tip.
"Dean, don't."
He could hear Cas, knew exactly what he was saying and what he was asking him not to do, but he didn't have much choice, right now. He would rather be the guy getting carved up like a Christmas turkey and had no intention of letting Cas suffer the same, angel healing abilities or not.
"Oh, did you hear that?" Alistair was staring at the blood running down the edge of the blade with a mixture of interest and satisfaction, "Your boyfriend is getting worried. He knows just as well as you do what I'm going to do to you. We have all night." He pressed the blade forward again, drew a line down from Dean's cheekbone to his jaw, leaning forward to press the tip of his tongue to the trail of the blood, tasting it.
"I'll kill you, you sick son of a bitch." The sting was making his eyes water, and even though he was waiting for some kind of backlash for his attitude it didn't come, Alistair chuckling under his breath and moving out of his line of sight, panic rising sharp and fast in his chest. "Where the fuck're you going?"
He didn't need any answer, the power keeping his head to the wall looser so he could move it again, and his head whipped around instinctively to where Cas was, blue eyes staring back at him, unreadable in every way aside from their usual intensity. "He cannot hurt me."
"Now, I think you'll find you're mistaken, Castiel." Alistair was speaking from his table of toys, holding up a jug of oil before pouring it into a bowl, summoning fire of his own to set the oil alight. Holyfire. He held one of his blades over the flames which licked up the sides, approached the angel, the very definition of menacing.
Dean was struggling harder against Alistair's power, desperately trying to shake himself free and take him out before he got anywhere near Cas with the knife - he knew what that'd do, how much that would hurt. Holyfire was meant to be used to keep angels confined, and what would happen if that blade got anywhere near Cas's Grace... Alistair was standing in front of Cas now, smirking as though he'd been looking forward to the opportunity for a while.
"As I said..." He addressed Dean, the tip of his knife running down the center of the angel's shirt before he pressed harder, scoring a line diagonally across his chest and belly, the shirt breaking open and the frayed edges dyed red, the angel unable to help the pained groan ripped from his lips as his Grace was torn, "...leverage."
"What do you want?" He stared Alistair down, tried not to look at the pained look twisting Cas's face, and he could see the angel was trying his best to keep it together. His question seemed to stay the demon's hand, stole his attention for long enough to give Cas a chance to pull himself together. Literally.
"Dean... don't-- don't give him what he wants."
"Little old me?" Alistair was moving away from Cas, shot Dean a shit-eating smile and didn't stop until he had both his palms pressed either side of his head against the wall. "You can stop talking, else I'll cut that loose tongue of yours straight from your mouth. Or maybe I should just break him like you broke all those poor souls downstairs. Maybe I should ask you to break him instead.."
Mouth snapping shut, Dean frowned, knowing that it wasn't an empty threat - Alistair would follow through on what he was saying, would probably go one worse just to prove a point. "Show me submission, boy."
Flashes from Hell blinded him for a second, memories of how the demon liked his lackeys to show their submission still burned deep into his memory, his chin dropping forward onto his chest, and that was all the confirmation Alistair needed. The demon dropped his hand, smirked back at Cas as though he was taking something of his from Dean. "Yes, you remember, Dean. You remember all those days downstairs... days of screams and flesh and tearing."
He was up in his face again because he liked messing with the man, liked reminding him who his boss had been downstairs. He'd had Dean Winchester torturing souls, the righteous man... and now he had his blade pressed against the hunter's side, feeling the man needed a little prompting.
"Dean..." Cas was still pinned up against the wall, the only thing keeping him upright the Enochian magic the demon had harnessed, the struggle he was engaged in with his Grace almost too much to bear - he was losing control of it, the blade Alistair had used to slice him ripping his Grace until it was unstable, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt Dean.
Dean was trying to filter out Cas's voice, couldn't do this if he thought about the angel anymore than he already was. If this was the only way he was going to keep Alistair away from Cas, he'd take it, no question, no hesitation. He craned his neck forward as much as he could, squeezed his eyes shut before pressing his lips against the demon's throat, kissed a line around to just under his ear, teeth raking along his skin.
"Dean... my Grace..." Cas sounded panicked, and the moment he tore his lips from Alistair's skin and looked up, the angel was shouting at him, looking in such desperate, unbridled pain that he was almost too slow to react to the orders. "CLOSE YOUR EYES."
He did as he was told, squeezed his eyes shut again, only just caught the confused look written across Alistair's usually smug expression before there was a flash of light, white burning bright even through his eyelids, and the next moment he fell away from the wall, the demon's power leaving with him. Dropping to the floor, he pressed his hands over his eyes, didn't really want them burnt out even if he'd had warning.
The moment the light faded away and he heard a groan from Cas he opened his eyes, blinked around the room to find Alistair gone and the angel slumped up against the wall, hands pressed over his stomach as though he was trying to hold something in. He frowned, the whole exercise seemingly pointless, and now Cas was hurt and he'd gone right back to square one with Alistair, showing the demon submission where he hadn't wanted to. He felt dirty, felt like he'd never escape his memories which were burning painfully in his mind with the demon's reminder. He felt like he'd lost something all over again, and although Cas's Grace had banished the demon from the room, he knew Alistair, wherever he was, would be counting this as a personal victory.
For: scalpelsplease
Prompt: Kiss on the neck [ Request here]
Notes: Alistair is scalpelsplease and Castiel is diefirst, used without permission... kinda. I hope you enjoy! :D
"Fuck you, you pathetic, slimy little bitch." Dean was pissed they'd been stupid enough to walk into this, Alistair's smug smirk making him want to throw up or punch him, probably both. He and Cas had been working this case alone, Sam's own time consumed in researching how to kill the devil. Like that was written in any book they'd already come across, but since Jo and Ellen, and Lucifer's insistence he would say yes, he'd had trouble leaving their motel room, let alone going on a hunt. He said it was something about not wanting to be out in the open, not wanting to be an open target, and no matter how many times Dean had tried to convince his brother otherwise, he and Cas were being left to do the legwork more often.
How they hadn't worked out what they were walking into first was currently beyond him, but he figured that was more to do with how both he and Cas were pinned up to the wall, the demon too close for his liking. Alistair was showing off his little Enochian artefact, something that was keeping Cas in place and unable to use his own powers to get them the hell out of there, at least.
"Sticks and stones... now, now, boy, don't hurt my feelings." He had his toy table out too, laiden with all his favorite blades, and even with his own experience, Dean was unnerved to see a couple of new items there, lined up with the rest. He didn't even know what they did, just that he had no doubt they weren't going to tickle. "The thing is... we need your little, ickle, baby brother to say yes."
Dean was trying to turn his head to look at Cas, needed to see he was as alright as he could be, but Alistair's power had him pressed tightly and painfully into the wall, and as much as he wanted to call out for him, he didn't want draw any attention to his concern. He knew how Alistair worked, knew whatever happened, he'd prod and poke at his weaknesses, even if that was the angel, now.
"Your featherboy is still in one piece, for now." Dean blinked as Alistair was suddenly up in his face, not liking the way he was leering, or calling Cas 'his'. Apparently his acting skills weren't as convincing as he thought they were. "We'll call him..." He seemed to step back and shoot Cas a look of complete and utter distain, stepping so close he could feel the words on his skin "Leverage."
It made Dean's skin crawl, both Alistair's proximity and what he was implying, his body reacting on instinct and trying to jerk forward out of the invisible hold to headbutt the demon, anything to take his attention away from Cas being there too. He pulled himself together, and despite Alistair being all up in his face, shot him a withering look. "What, you're resorting to threats now? You're not good enough to make me change my mind yourself? Alistair... I thought you were better than that."
Apparently his jibe worked, Alistair retreating to the table to pick up a scalpel, returned moments later to press the blade into his cheek, the burn instant and blood spotting the very tip.
"Dean, don't."
He could hear Cas, knew exactly what he was saying and what he was asking him not to do, but he didn't have much choice, right now. He would rather be the guy getting carved up like a Christmas turkey and had no intention of letting Cas suffer the same, angel healing abilities or not.
"Oh, did you hear that?" Alistair was staring at the blood running down the edge of the blade with a mixture of interest and satisfaction, "Your boyfriend is getting worried. He knows just as well as you do what I'm going to do to you. We have all night." He pressed the blade forward again, drew a line down from Dean's cheekbone to his jaw, leaning forward to press the tip of his tongue to the trail of the blood, tasting it.
"I'll kill you, you sick son of a bitch." The sting was making his eyes water, and even though he was waiting for some kind of backlash for his attitude it didn't come, Alistair chuckling under his breath and moving out of his line of sight, panic rising sharp and fast in his chest. "Where the fuck're you going?"
He didn't need any answer, the power keeping his head to the wall looser so he could move it again, and his head whipped around instinctively to where Cas was, blue eyes staring back at him, unreadable in every way aside from their usual intensity. "He cannot hurt me."
"Now, I think you'll find you're mistaken, Castiel." Alistair was speaking from his table of toys, holding up a jug of oil before pouring it into a bowl, summoning fire of his own to set the oil alight. Holyfire. He held one of his blades over the flames which licked up the sides, approached the angel, the very definition of menacing.
Dean was struggling harder against Alistair's power, desperately trying to shake himself free and take him out before he got anywhere near Cas with the knife - he knew what that'd do, how much that would hurt. Holyfire was meant to be used to keep angels confined, and what would happen if that blade got anywhere near Cas's Grace... Alistair was standing in front of Cas now, smirking as though he'd been looking forward to the opportunity for a while.
"As I said..." He addressed Dean, the tip of his knife running down the center of the angel's shirt before he pressed harder, scoring a line diagonally across his chest and belly, the shirt breaking open and the frayed edges dyed red, the angel unable to help the pained groan ripped from his lips as his Grace was torn, "...leverage."
"What do you want?" He stared Alistair down, tried not to look at the pained look twisting Cas's face, and he could see the angel was trying his best to keep it together. His question seemed to stay the demon's hand, stole his attention for long enough to give Cas a chance to pull himself together. Literally.
"Dean... don't-- don't give him what he wants."
"Little old me?" Alistair was moving away from Cas, shot Dean a shit-eating smile and didn't stop until he had both his palms pressed either side of his head against the wall. "You can stop talking, else I'll cut that loose tongue of yours straight from your mouth. Or maybe I should just break him like you broke all those poor souls downstairs. Maybe I should ask you to break him instead.."
Mouth snapping shut, Dean frowned, knowing that it wasn't an empty threat - Alistair would follow through on what he was saying, would probably go one worse just to prove a point. "Show me submission, boy."
Flashes from Hell blinded him for a second, memories of how the demon liked his lackeys to show their submission still burned deep into his memory, his chin dropping forward onto his chest, and that was all the confirmation Alistair needed. The demon dropped his hand, smirked back at Cas as though he was taking something of his from Dean. "Yes, you remember, Dean. You remember all those days downstairs... days of screams and flesh and tearing."
He was up in his face again because he liked messing with the man, liked reminding him who his boss had been downstairs. He'd had Dean Winchester torturing souls, the righteous man... and now he had his blade pressed against the hunter's side, feeling the man needed a little prompting.
"Dean..." Cas was still pinned up against the wall, the only thing keeping him upright the Enochian magic the demon had harnessed, the struggle he was engaged in with his Grace almost too much to bear - he was losing control of it, the blade Alistair had used to slice him ripping his Grace until it was unstable, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt Dean.
Dean was trying to filter out Cas's voice, couldn't do this if he thought about the angel anymore than he already was. If this was the only way he was going to keep Alistair away from Cas, he'd take it, no question, no hesitation. He craned his neck forward as much as he could, squeezed his eyes shut before pressing his lips against the demon's throat, kissed a line around to just under his ear, teeth raking along his skin.
"Dean... my Grace..." Cas sounded panicked, and the moment he tore his lips from Alistair's skin and looked up, the angel was shouting at him, looking in such desperate, unbridled pain that he was almost too slow to react to the orders. "CLOSE YOUR EYES."
He did as he was told, squeezed his eyes shut again, only just caught the confused look written across Alistair's usually smug expression before there was a flash of light, white burning bright even through his eyelids, and the next moment he fell away from the wall, the demon's power leaving with him. Dropping to the floor, he pressed his hands over his eyes, didn't really want them burnt out even if he'd had warning.
The moment the light faded away and he heard a groan from Cas he opened his eyes, blinked around the room to find Alistair gone and the angel slumped up against the wall, hands pressed over his stomach as though he was trying to hold something in. He frowned, the whole exercise seemingly pointless, and now Cas was hurt and he'd gone right back to square one with Alistair, showing the demon submission where he hadn't wanted to. He felt dirty, felt like he'd never escape his memories which were burning painfully in his mind with the demon's reminder. He felt like he'd lost something all over again, and although Cas's Grace had banished the demon from the room, he knew Alistair, wherever he was, would be counting this as a personal victory.