Shadows 14
A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry for the slight delay. Here's the new chapter. We're steadily coming to the end of the story, so I hope you'll enjoy the last few chapters.
Tell me what you think :)
- Dean -
He woke up to a bright scorching world burning through his closed eyelids. His limbs felt heavy, muscles stiff. His head pounded and every patch of his skin was covered in a sheen film of boiling sweat. Disoriented, he tried to move but his body wouldn't listen. Where was he? What was happening? There were hands clutching him, someone was pressing him close to them, keeping him from moving freely. He needed to get away.
'Dean, please don't. Calm down. Don't move or open your eyes.'
That was the voice from his dreams. It made the thing inside him flutter happily. Like butterflies. Butterflies in the stomach, but more literal. More real.
"Something's changed," a woman said, her voice high and irritating. It made him feel anger and shame.
It made him remember.
Sam.
The fight.
They had fought, him and Sam, and then Sam said...
Then the dreams, but they weren't dreams. The first time it had happened Dean couldn't remember afterwards. There was a big black hole in his memory and nothing else. But this time it was like waking up from the dream right after it ended. It brought impressions rather than detailed images, but Dean didn't need to guess to know what Sam had seen.
Had the others seen it too?
Dean kept his eyes closed, just like Cas (because it was Cas who spoke to him; it was always going to be Cas and no one else) instructed him to do. But it was difficult. His lungs wouldn't expand and his fists wouldn't unclench.
People and places emerged from the deep sea of his memories before quickly immersing back under, like fragments of some parody of his life. Sam had seen it all. And Benny and Cas too, probably. The people he cared about most in the world.
The hands around him tightened.
'No. Don't think, not yet. Breathe. I'll make everything alright, I promise.'
"What is it? What's changed..." the woman muttered to herself. Heels clicked on a hard floor, moving around the brightness behind Dean's closed eyes. Don't think, Cas had said. Okay. He could do that.
Don't think.
For now, at least. He didn't need to think.
Don't think.
He only needed to follow Cas' voice. Easy.
Breathe.
The brightness died out abruptly, taken over by darkness. With the heat gone, a creeping cold seeped through the pores on Dean's skin.
The clicking stopped. "What the-"
Metal clinked against floor; the heavy thuds of boots rumbled across the place. Dean snapped his eyes open. He was able to make out the witch's silhouette in the pale moonlight streaming in through the high windows. He saw her swing around in panic. She came to a halt when Benny and Sam suddenly appeared in front of her.
She raised her hands, and Dean knew they were going to be too slow. But then the arms around him disappeared and Cas was there, right behind the witch. Always the fastest. He had the witch in a vice grip before she could fully realize what happened, hands on her head, pressing, squeezing, with white buzzing light coming out from underneath his palms and gleaming in his eyes.
The witch screamed like she was burning alive. Which she probably was. The blinding glow forced its way through her veins, down and down. Cas squeezed harder.
And she burst into dust.
With the light dying down and her screams only an echo, silence fell over them like a heavy blanket. Sam looked at Cas with wide eyes, chest heaving. Benny's head snapped in Dean's direction. He looked like he wanted to ask questions, and Dean's heart hammered in his chest like it wanted to break its way out. Dean was surprised no one else besides Benny heard it pumping.
Then someone started clapping their hands. "Well done, boys."
Dean flinched at the voice. His head spun as he sat up to look at Crowley. He had to support his weight on both arms.
It wasn't hard to tell the four newcomers apart. With their backs to the windows, the moonlight picked out only the lines of their clothes and their faces left obscured, Dean could still easily guess which one Crowley was. His stance confident and arrogant, body language always projecting boredom. The demons standing in a half circle behind his back like some bodyguards were tense and despite their higher vessels they appeared much smaller than their king.
"What," Crowley said, eyes wandering around the warehouse. "No welcome huggies? No thank you baskets with chocolate muffins?"
Sam assumed his fighting posture, years and years of practice making the change flawless, but he seemed lost, with mind elsewhere. His eyes were restless, ticking from one place to another, never really stopping on anything. Dean would worry for his little brother if when Sam's eyes landed on him there was no pain and guilt clouding them. If not, then they could pretend nothing had happened. That this was just one twisted idea of a joke. But the emotions were there, blinding as the sun light and blaringly obvious in this dark place.
Sam looked away first, focusing on Crowley instead. "What-"
"What happened?" Crowley cut him off. "My simple-minded moose, I'll tell you exactly what happened. You did me a favor is what happened. Our dear dust-to-dust-great job on that by the way, loved the glowing effect-was getting a little too greedy and arrogant. I don't mind arrogant... much, but what I really hate are greedy little parasites."
Dean's hands kept shaking. Normally he would already be up in the front, protecting his friends and creating some grand escape plan extraordinaire. But his brain felt like jello and couldn't focus on anything, much more move or form some actual words.
Maybe it would be better if Crowley just made an example of his evilness and killed Dean. It probably wasn't a laughing matter... except it totally was when he thought about it.
Sam wouldn't try to bring him back. He hadn't looked for Dean in Purgatory, and that didn't even count as a death technically. That was something much easier to get back from.
So yes, Sammy wouldn't look for him, and Dean would finally have his peace.
"So you wanted to get rid of her," Sam said to Crowley.
"Yes."
"And this was your chance."
Crowley pointed a finger at Sam. "You're two for two. I needed her killed. But she didn't trust me and had always something up her sleeve. You know, boys, I'm in a sensitive position here. I can't afford mistakes. But you... You. It was so perfect. When she called me-I realized that she underestimated your merry little band. And all I needed was to help you out a bit... And your avenging rage did the rest."
"Why did you take so long?" Sam asked.
Dean grimaced.
"Really? ‘Why didn't you come sooner!' instead of a thank you? I have a tight shedule, you know. I run Hell, I have conferences, meetings, and I still need to find your little prophet. So showing a bit of gratitude wouldn't kill you. I don't know if you noticed, but you're still alive and kicking, and not on a torture rack with one of my minions scraping some valuable information from your tiny monkey brains."
"Try it," Benny growled. "Let's see who gets his ass kicked."
Crowley gave the vampire an indifferent once over. "And who might you be?"
Benny bared his sharp teeth, immediately raising Crowley's interest. "Ahh!" he declared gleefully. "Another one of Winchester’s pets. You should consider opening a shop, boys."
Sam's fingers twitched on the handle of Ruby's knife. Crowley rolled his eyes. "I didn't come here to fight you. Surprisingly. One victory per day is enough, and you helped me even if you can’t comprehend it. So in exchange, I'll let you go this one time."
Dean wondered what the witch had found on Crowley. It must have been really something if Crowley had been so afraid to confront her personally, and was now in such a good mood to let them go.
Cas shifted back and forth. He thrummed with a restless energy that Dean could feel prickling against his skin. Crowley's eyes traveled over to the angel, then took in Sam's clenched jaw and Benny's stiff shoulders, before they landed on Dean.
"Lena told me how she captured you. I wonder what they saw in the head of yours that has them so on edge like this..."
Cas' coat appeared in Dean's line of vision. "If you don't want to fight then leave."
Crowley chuckled, raising his hands mockingly. "Alright, lover. Don't get your panties in a twist. This has been amusing enough." He snapped his fingers at the three demons and they vanished instantly. Then he made a few steps backward so Dean was able to see him again.
"See you next time, boys." He winked at Dean and then was gone.
Dean bowed his head, looking at his feet. Now that the witch was dead and it was sure that Crowley was really gone, the silence hung over them like a noose.
Feeling eyes turn to him, Dean kept his head down. The last thing he wanted to do was to look at someone. He wondered how long he could keep like this, staring stubbornly down like a child.
Not long, apparently, because it took exactly no more than four point two seconds before three pairs of legs came rushing into his view. Before hands tried to reach for him.
"Don't you touch me."
Sam's fingers faltered inches above Dean's arm before they withdrew. He cleared his throat awkwardly, like he was the one hurting and wanting to be gone from this place. "Dean, I'm... "
Dean raised his head. He wanted to hear this. What it was that Sammy had to say to him?
Sam ran a hand through his hair, looking away than back, moves jerky and restless. "God, Dean, I'm so... I'm so sorry. I-"
Dean laughed loudly, making Sam shut up, maybe scaring him a little. Good. He scrambled up to his feet. It took a lot of effort but he did it, and he did it alone, didn't need anyone's help. "You're sorry? That's really rich, Sammy."
Dean stared at his brother, who took a step back uncertainly. He couldn’t understand how Sam was able to pull off looking so fucking small for someone so gigantic. "I guess everything's freaking awesome then because you're fucking sorry!" he shouted.
Sam actually flinched, but didn’t move to defend himself. He just stood there and took it. He was going to take everything Dean would throw at him just to relieve some of the guilt. Dean hated him for it. "Stop doing this," he hissed, his mouth getting dry. "Stop acting so pathetic and miserable. You've got no right to feel miserable, okay? I've got-"
The words got stuck in his throat, the rest escaping in something that sounded like a sob. Dean breathed out shakily, eyes opened wide and boring into Sam. His cheek tingled, and when he touched it, his finger came away wet.
"Dean..." Cas started.
"No, shut up. Just shut up." Dean took a few slow, deliberate steps away from them; backwards, slightly to the right. There was the escape, he knew it. Could feel the soft breeze licking at the back of his neck.
Sam stepped forward, hand reaching out to get to Dean (too fucking late for that) but paused. "Where do you wanna go?" he asked desperately.
Somewhere where you're not.
"We don't know where we are, brother," Benny tried. "Should probably stick together. We'll hitch a ride with your angel."
There it was, a huge entrance door. The night ruling outside waiting to swallow him. The air was chilling against his wet skin when another tear trickled down.
He's not my angel.
Cas reached for him. "Dean-"
Dean shook his head. He turned around and started walking quickly away, when the words reached him, carried on fluttering wings. 'I am yours.'
He gasped, stopping. Didn't turn around though.
'Dean,' the voice resounded in his head again. 'Please...'
Dean grinded his teeth together. He started walking again, without stopping this time. Get out, he told Cas.
- Sam -
The fist caught Sam by surprise. Just as the second one did. He stumbled backwards and before he could collect himself, another punch split his lip open. He felt blood running down his chin, then more sticky crimson smeared his cheek when the blood-covered fist slammed into the right side of his face once more.
Instincts told him to fight back, but the devastated look in Dean's eyes had paralyzed him. Sam had ruined them both in one single act of selfishness and anger. Dean was never coming back to him. Sam could have seen it in his eyes.
"I ought to kill ya," Benny growled, raising up his hand again. Sam prepared himself for the next blow but it never came.
Benny looked just as surprised when Castiel caught his wrist, jerking him forward and pushing the vampire to his knees in one fast movement. Cas' eyes flashed with white lightning as he pressed his other hand to the vampire's shoulder to keep him in place. Benny cursed and struggled but gradually gave up under the unrelenting hold until his body went completely slack.
Sam watched the display of dominance with wide eyes. Castiel looked like he was taming some wild animal. And he had no problems doing so, as if he was born to it. Sam reached up to the wounds on his face, hissing in pain when his fingertips touched the tender swells. "What do we do now?"
"I'll go find Dean," Cas said, "and I want you two not to call or try to search for him until I allow you to."
Benny jerked in the iron grip, growling at Castiel. "Until you allow us?"
"Yes. Until I tell you to."
He released Benny and the vampire nearly fell over when the support holding him in place suddenly vanished. Cas straightened the tie of his suit. "I will contact you when I deem it appropriate."
And he was gone.
- Dean -
Dean walked for minutes, hours, he wasn't sure for how long. He didn't care.
The warehouse where the witch had hold them in was at the outskirts of the city. The streets were dark and empty, people either in the center or enjoying leisure dinner nights in their homes. Dean was glad he hadn't met many people. They would look at him with their judging eyes and immediately see how wrong he was.
He rounded a corner, turned left and right, then left again. His legs moved automatically, without any consciously given directions. On the next turn there was a small spot at a dumpster site with homeless people huddled in their sleeping bags or snuggled under ragged blankets, snoring. Some quietly, some not so. There were about a dozen of them.
Dean stepped over a bearded man with a hunting cap put far over the face to cover his eyes. The man didn't even twitched, oblivious to his surroundings. They could get robbed of the last personal possessions they owned and not a single one of them would notice.
Inhaling the night air into his lungs, Dean turned right on the next crossroad and found himself on one end of a long narrow bridge. Without any thought, his feet carried him forward. A blue car passed by, honking at him to get out of the way, but otherwise he was here alone.
His legs led him almost naturally into the middle of the bridge, where they stopped. Dean took in the metal construction corroding on so many spots, coming closer. He ran his fingers gently over the railing where the paint cracked and peeled off.
Instead of peering down to see what laid below like most people would do, Dean raised his head to the sky. It wasn't pretty at all, misted over by the city’s pollution with gray dirty haze, not allowing a single star to shine through. The moon was full but somehow uninteresting.
Dean put his right foot on the handrail and, swinging his left leg, he hopped on. The railing was thick enough for his feet to fit snugly on the top. Dean let his hands help him balance his body when he straightened up, and after that he let them slide down into his pant pockets.
How was it... to fly. Fly off, over the edge then up, up, up toward the sky. Or down to the ground... Did it really matter? He'd be free in any way.
"Dean."
Dean jerked in surprise, cursing himself for the obvious reaction. "What?" he snapped, without looking back at Castiel.
The angel didn't move from where he'd appeared behind Dean. He didn't answer for a long time, just stood there like a silent guardian. Finally, when Dean was starting to get annoyed, he said in a low, calm voice, "I can fly but it's not something I overly enjoy... I've never understood the human desire to reach the sky."
Dean knew Cas could fly. He was a freaking angel (and how hilarious the thought still was). He gave them a ride occasionally but it was like only a second had gone by and they were already in a different place. It must last longer for the one behind the wheel. For Cas, flying must have gotten tiring.
"What do you want, Cas?" he asked.
"I want to help you, Dean," the angel said, simple like that, "and I want to be here for you."
Dean chuckled bitterly. His palms were sweaty in the pockets despite the cool air. "Yeah, okay, Cas. I promise I won't jump, okay? So you can go now. Your good deed quotas done for the day."
He heard feet shuffling closer. The growing sound of grumbling motors alerted them to another car. But the silver sedan just made a round around Castiel and then vanished into the night without stopping so the driver could assure everything was alright or show at least a slight interest in the proceedings. Dean smirked. This is how he knew most people were. They didn't give a shit.
"I'm serious," Cas said. He was so different then the human race-even to all other angels. He gave a damn. He was wired like that. It wasn't his fault that poor pathetic Dean had a breakdown, yet here he was, trying to get things set back to their right course. "This is not some good deed, Dean, and it's not because I think it's my responsibility."
"So why's it then, hm?" Dean asked.
"Because..." Cas paused. Dean waited. He had all the time to wait. It wasn't like a few more minutes would make a difference. He had nowhere to go anyway. "You're... you're Dean."
Dean snorted. Yeah, sure, he was Dean alright.
Cas boots scraped against the road as he made another step forward. "You're unique, Dean, and you don't even realize it. Amongst the billions of bright souls, yours is the one I'm drawn to and to which I turn to everyday. When I'm... when I'm not by your side, I always stop, if for a second, to check up on you. You're-you're my world, Dean, and I'm sorry I left you in Purgatory. I was so afraid at that time, that the beings that were after me would turn on you and hurt you. I was like a beacon to them, and... I only wished to protect you."
Dean finally looked down through the gray fog under his feet. It wasn't easy to make out what lay below, but he could see the layout of the bridge pillars. It seemed like it had been built across a river which dried up over the time. He saw a few discarded tins and plastic bags on the right side, and some dirty blankets and a torn jacket on the left side at the foot of the metal pillar.
"I prayed for you every night."
Cas made a low sad sound. "I know. I heard every word."
"You didn't come."
"... No."
Dean's eyes misted over. He blinked a couple of times to clear his vision. "Why are you still here?"
"I told you, Dean. I want to be here for you. From now on, I won't run and I won't hide... And you shouldn't either."
"I'm not," Dean countered automatically. Cas didn't reply, because they both knew Dean had been running his whole life, and he was running now, even, but they didn't need to acknowledge it aloud, not yet anyway.
"You shouldn't be here, Cas."
"I'm not ever leaving you."
Dean let out a small broken laugh, blinking once more. This time some thin tears escaped. "You shouldn't promise something you can't carry out."
Cas was quiet for a long moment. Dean started to think that the angel had gone away. Vanished. Like everyone else. He breathed slowly through his icy lips, letting the tears set their pace and intensity.
"I would die to carry out my promise to you."
Dean turned around, his pulse speeding up. Cas was a few meters away from him (here, he was still here). Dean was higher, standing on the railing but still, the angel seemed so... big. Majestic. Back straight in a perfect line, chin held out confidently. The two lamps behind him were obscured by rippling shadows from top to bottom of something huge and beautiful... Wings, Dean realized. Castiel's wings spread out to impress. Like a king's cloak. And impress they did.
They took his breath away.
Cas' eyes burned with a blue fire when he reached out his hand to him. "Please, allow me to show you."
Tell me what you think :)
- Dean -
He woke up to a bright scorching world burning through his closed eyelids. His limbs felt heavy, muscles stiff. His head pounded and every patch of his skin was covered in a sheen film of boiling sweat. Disoriented, he tried to move but his body wouldn't listen. Where was he? What was happening? There were hands clutching him, someone was pressing him close to them, keeping him from moving freely. He needed to get away.
'Dean, please don't. Calm down. Don't move or open your eyes.'
That was the voice from his dreams. It made the thing inside him flutter happily. Like butterflies. Butterflies in the stomach, but more literal. More real.
"Something's changed," a woman said, her voice high and irritating. It made him feel anger and shame.
It made him remember.
Sam.
The fight.
They had fought, him and Sam, and then Sam said...
Then the dreams, but they weren't dreams. The first time it had happened Dean couldn't remember afterwards. There was a big black hole in his memory and nothing else. But this time it was like waking up from the dream right after it ended. It brought impressions rather than detailed images, but Dean didn't need to guess to know what Sam had seen.
Had the others seen it too?
Dean kept his eyes closed, just like Cas (because it was Cas who spoke to him; it was always going to be Cas and no one else) instructed him to do. But it was difficult. His lungs wouldn't expand and his fists wouldn't unclench.
People and places emerged from the deep sea of his memories before quickly immersing back under, like fragments of some parody of his life. Sam had seen it all. And Benny and Cas too, probably. The people he cared about most in the world.
The hands around him tightened.
'No. Don't think, not yet. Breathe. I'll make everything alright, I promise.'
"What is it? What's changed..." the woman muttered to herself. Heels clicked on a hard floor, moving around the brightness behind Dean's closed eyes. Don't think, Cas had said. Okay. He could do that.
Don't think.
For now, at least. He didn't need to think.
Don't think.
He only needed to follow Cas' voice. Easy.
Breathe.
The brightness died out abruptly, taken over by darkness. With the heat gone, a creeping cold seeped through the pores on Dean's skin.
The clicking stopped. "What the-"
Metal clinked against floor; the heavy thuds of boots rumbled across the place. Dean snapped his eyes open. He was able to make out the witch's silhouette in the pale moonlight streaming in through the high windows. He saw her swing around in panic. She came to a halt when Benny and Sam suddenly appeared in front of her.
She raised her hands, and Dean knew they were going to be too slow. But then the arms around him disappeared and Cas was there, right behind the witch. Always the fastest. He had the witch in a vice grip before she could fully realize what happened, hands on her head, pressing, squeezing, with white buzzing light coming out from underneath his palms and gleaming in his eyes.
The witch screamed like she was burning alive. Which she probably was. The blinding glow forced its way through her veins, down and down. Cas squeezed harder.
And she burst into dust.
With the light dying down and her screams only an echo, silence fell over them like a heavy blanket. Sam looked at Cas with wide eyes, chest heaving. Benny's head snapped in Dean's direction. He looked like he wanted to ask questions, and Dean's heart hammered in his chest like it wanted to break its way out. Dean was surprised no one else besides Benny heard it pumping.
Then someone started clapping their hands. "Well done, boys."
Dean flinched at the voice. His head spun as he sat up to look at Crowley. He had to support his weight on both arms.
It wasn't hard to tell the four newcomers apart. With their backs to the windows, the moonlight picked out only the lines of their clothes and their faces left obscured, Dean could still easily guess which one Crowley was. His stance confident and arrogant, body language always projecting boredom. The demons standing in a half circle behind his back like some bodyguards were tense and despite their higher vessels they appeared much smaller than their king.
"What," Crowley said, eyes wandering around the warehouse. "No welcome huggies? No thank you baskets with chocolate muffins?"
Sam assumed his fighting posture, years and years of practice making the change flawless, but he seemed lost, with mind elsewhere. His eyes were restless, ticking from one place to another, never really stopping on anything. Dean would worry for his little brother if when Sam's eyes landed on him there was no pain and guilt clouding them. If not, then they could pretend nothing had happened. That this was just one twisted idea of a joke. But the emotions were there, blinding as the sun light and blaringly obvious in this dark place.
Sam looked away first, focusing on Crowley instead. "What-"
"What happened?" Crowley cut him off. "My simple-minded moose, I'll tell you exactly what happened. You did me a favor is what happened. Our dear dust-to-dust-great job on that by the way, loved the glowing effect-was getting a little too greedy and arrogant. I don't mind arrogant... much, but what I really hate are greedy little parasites."
Dean's hands kept shaking. Normally he would already be up in the front, protecting his friends and creating some grand escape plan extraordinaire. But his brain felt like jello and couldn't focus on anything, much more move or form some actual words.
Maybe it would be better if Crowley just made an example of his evilness and killed Dean. It probably wasn't a laughing matter... except it totally was when he thought about it.
Sam wouldn't try to bring him back. He hadn't looked for Dean in Purgatory, and that didn't even count as a death technically. That was something much easier to get back from.
So yes, Sammy wouldn't look for him, and Dean would finally have his peace.
"So you wanted to get rid of her," Sam said to Crowley.
"Yes."
"And this was your chance."
Crowley pointed a finger at Sam. "You're two for two. I needed her killed. But she didn't trust me and had always something up her sleeve. You know, boys, I'm in a sensitive position here. I can't afford mistakes. But you... You. It was so perfect. When she called me-I realized that she underestimated your merry little band. And all I needed was to help you out a bit... And your avenging rage did the rest."
"Why did you take so long?" Sam asked.
Dean grimaced.
"Really? ‘Why didn't you come sooner!' instead of a thank you? I have a tight shedule, you know. I run Hell, I have conferences, meetings, and I still need to find your little prophet. So showing a bit of gratitude wouldn't kill you. I don't know if you noticed, but you're still alive and kicking, and not on a torture rack with one of my minions scraping some valuable information from your tiny monkey brains."
"Try it," Benny growled. "Let's see who gets his ass kicked."
Crowley gave the vampire an indifferent once over. "And who might you be?"
Benny bared his sharp teeth, immediately raising Crowley's interest. "Ahh!" he declared gleefully. "Another one of Winchester’s pets. You should consider opening a shop, boys."
Sam's fingers twitched on the handle of Ruby's knife. Crowley rolled his eyes. "I didn't come here to fight you. Surprisingly. One victory per day is enough, and you helped me even if you can’t comprehend it. So in exchange, I'll let you go this one time."
Dean wondered what the witch had found on Crowley. It must have been really something if Crowley had been so afraid to confront her personally, and was now in such a good mood to let them go.
Cas shifted back and forth. He thrummed with a restless energy that Dean could feel prickling against his skin. Crowley's eyes traveled over to the angel, then took in Sam's clenched jaw and Benny's stiff shoulders, before they landed on Dean.
"Lena told me how she captured you. I wonder what they saw in the head of yours that has them so on edge like this..."
Cas' coat appeared in Dean's line of vision. "If you don't want to fight then leave."
Crowley chuckled, raising his hands mockingly. "Alright, lover. Don't get your panties in a twist. This has been amusing enough." He snapped his fingers at the three demons and they vanished instantly. Then he made a few steps backward so Dean was able to see him again.
"See you next time, boys." He winked at Dean and then was gone.
Dean bowed his head, looking at his feet. Now that the witch was dead and it was sure that Crowley was really gone, the silence hung over them like a noose.
Feeling eyes turn to him, Dean kept his head down. The last thing he wanted to do was to look at someone. He wondered how long he could keep like this, staring stubbornly down like a child.
Not long, apparently, because it took exactly no more than four point two seconds before three pairs of legs came rushing into his view. Before hands tried to reach for him.
"Don't you touch me."
Sam's fingers faltered inches above Dean's arm before they withdrew. He cleared his throat awkwardly, like he was the one hurting and wanting to be gone from this place. "Dean, I'm... "
Dean raised his head. He wanted to hear this. What it was that Sammy had to say to him?
Sam ran a hand through his hair, looking away than back, moves jerky and restless. "God, Dean, I'm so... I'm so sorry. I-"
Dean laughed loudly, making Sam shut up, maybe scaring him a little. Good. He scrambled up to his feet. It took a lot of effort but he did it, and he did it alone, didn't need anyone's help. "You're sorry? That's really rich, Sammy."
Dean stared at his brother, who took a step back uncertainly. He couldn’t understand how Sam was able to pull off looking so fucking small for someone so gigantic. "I guess everything's freaking awesome then because you're fucking sorry!" he shouted.
Sam actually flinched, but didn’t move to defend himself. He just stood there and took it. He was going to take everything Dean would throw at him just to relieve some of the guilt. Dean hated him for it. "Stop doing this," he hissed, his mouth getting dry. "Stop acting so pathetic and miserable. You've got no right to feel miserable, okay? I've got-"
The words got stuck in his throat, the rest escaping in something that sounded like a sob. Dean breathed out shakily, eyes opened wide and boring into Sam. His cheek tingled, and when he touched it, his finger came away wet.
"Dean..." Cas started.
"No, shut up. Just shut up." Dean took a few slow, deliberate steps away from them; backwards, slightly to the right. There was the escape, he knew it. Could feel the soft breeze licking at the back of his neck.
Sam stepped forward, hand reaching out to get to Dean (too fucking late for that) but paused. "Where do you wanna go?" he asked desperately.
Somewhere where you're not.
"We don't know where we are, brother," Benny tried. "Should probably stick together. We'll hitch a ride with your angel."
There it was, a huge entrance door. The night ruling outside waiting to swallow him. The air was chilling against his wet skin when another tear trickled down.
He's not my angel.
Cas reached for him. "Dean-"
Dean shook his head. He turned around and started walking quickly away, when the words reached him, carried on fluttering wings. 'I am yours.'
He gasped, stopping. Didn't turn around though.
'Dean,' the voice resounded in his head again. 'Please...'
Dean grinded his teeth together. He started walking again, without stopping this time. Get out, he told Cas.
- Sam -
The fist caught Sam by surprise. Just as the second one did. He stumbled backwards and before he could collect himself, another punch split his lip open. He felt blood running down his chin, then more sticky crimson smeared his cheek when the blood-covered fist slammed into the right side of his face once more.
Instincts told him to fight back, but the devastated look in Dean's eyes had paralyzed him. Sam had ruined them both in one single act of selfishness and anger. Dean was never coming back to him. Sam could have seen it in his eyes.
"I ought to kill ya," Benny growled, raising up his hand again. Sam prepared himself for the next blow but it never came.
Benny looked just as surprised when Castiel caught his wrist, jerking him forward and pushing the vampire to his knees in one fast movement. Cas' eyes flashed with white lightning as he pressed his other hand to the vampire's shoulder to keep him in place. Benny cursed and struggled but gradually gave up under the unrelenting hold until his body went completely slack.
Sam watched the display of dominance with wide eyes. Castiel looked like he was taming some wild animal. And he had no problems doing so, as if he was born to it. Sam reached up to the wounds on his face, hissing in pain when his fingertips touched the tender swells. "What do we do now?"
"I'll go find Dean," Cas said, "and I want you two not to call or try to search for him until I allow you to."
Benny jerked in the iron grip, growling at Castiel. "Until you allow us?"
"Yes. Until I tell you to."
He released Benny and the vampire nearly fell over when the support holding him in place suddenly vanished. Cas straightened the tie of his suit. "I will contact you when I deem it appropriate."
And he was gone.
- Dean -
Dean walked for minutes, hours, he wasn't sure for how long. He didn't care.
The warehouse where the witch had hold them in was at the outskirts of the city. The streets were dark and empty, people either in the center or enjoying leisure dinner nights in their homes. Dean was glad he hadn't met many people. They would look at him with their judging eyes and immediately see how wrong he was.
He rounded a corner, turned left and right, then left again. His legs moved automatically, without any consciously given directions. On the next turn there was a small spot at a dumpster site with homeless people huddled in their sleeping bags or snuggled under ragged blankets, snoring. Some quietly, some not so. There were about a dozen of them.
Dean stepped over a bearded man with a hunting cap put far over the face to cover his eyes. The man didn't even twitched, oblivious to his surroundings. They could get robbed of the last personal possessions they owned and not a single one of them would notice.
Inhaling the night air into his lungs, Dean turned right on the next crossroad and found himself on one end of a long narrow bridge. Without any thought, his feet carried him forward. A blue car passed by, honking at him to get out of the way, but otherwise he was here alone.
His legs led him almost naturally into the middle of the bridge, where they stopped. Dean took in the metal construction corroding on so many spots, coming closer. He ran his fingers gently over the railing where the paint cracked and peeled off.
Instead of peering down to see what laid below like most people would do, Dean raised his head to the sky. It wasn't pretty at all, misted over by the city’s pollution with gray dirty haze, not allowing a single star to shine through. The moon was full but somehow uninteresting.
Dean put his right foot on the handrail and, swinging his left leg, he hopped on. The railing was thick enough for his feet to fit snugly on the top. Dean let his hands help him balance his body when he straightened up, and after that he let them slide down into his pant pockets.
How was it... to fly. Fly off, over the edge then up, up, up toward the sky. Or down to the ground... Did it really matter? He'd be free in any way.
"Dean."
Dean jerked in surprise, cursing himself for the obvious reaction. "What?" he snapped, without looking back at Castiel.
The angel didn't move from where he'd appeared behind Dean. He didn't answer for a long time, just stood there like a silent guardian. Finally, when Dean was starting to get annoyed, he said in a low, calm voice, "I can fly but it's not something I overly enjoy... I've never understood the human desire to reach the sky."
Dean knew Cas could fly. He was a freaking angel (and how hilarious the thought still was). He gave them a ride occasionally but it was like only a second had gone by and they were already in a different place. It must last longer for the one behind the wheel. For Cas, flying must have gotten tiring.
"What do you want, Cas?" he asked.
"I want to help you, Dean," the angel said, simple like that, "and I want to be here for you."
Dean chuckled bitterly. His palms were sweaty in the pockets despite the cool air. "Yeah, okay, Cas. I promise I won't jump, okay? So you can go now. Your good deed quotas done for the day."
He heard feet shuffling closer. The growing sound of grumbling motors alerted them to another car. But the silver sedan just made a round around Castiel and then vanished into the night without stopping so the driver could assure everything was alright or show at least a slight interest in the proceedings. Dean smirked. This is how he knew most people were. They didn't give a shit.
"I'm serious," Cas said. He was so different then the human race-even to all other angels. He gave a damn. He was wired like that. It wasn't his fault that poor pathetic Dean had a breakdown, yet here he was, trying to get things set back to their right course. "This is not some good deed, Dean, and it's not because I think it's my responsibility."
"So why's it then, hm?" Dean asked.
"Because..." Cas paused. Dean waited. He had all the time to wait. It wasn't like a few more minutes would make a difference. He had nowhere to go anyway. "You're... you're Dean."
Dean snorted. Yeah, sure, he was Dean alright.
Cas boots scraped against the road as he made another step forward. "You're unique, Dean, and you don't even realize it. Amongst the billions of bright souls, yours is the one I'm drawn to and to which I turn to everyday. When I'm... when I'm not by your side, I always stop, if for a second, to check up on you. You're-you're my world, Dean, and I'm sorry I left you in Purgatory. I was so afraid at that time, that the beings that were after me would turn on you and hurt you. I was like a beacon to them, and... I only wished to protect you."
Dean finally looked down through the gray fog under his feet. It wasn't easy to make out what lay below, but he could see the layout of the bridge pillars. It seemed like it had been built across a river which dried up over the time. He saw a few discarded tins and plastic bags on the right side, and some dirty blankets and a torn jacket on the left side at the foot of the metal pillar.
"I prayed for you every night."
Cas made a low sad sound. "I know. I heard every word."
"You didn't come."
"... No."
Dean's eyes misted over. He blinked a couple of times to clear his vision. "Why are you still here?"
"I told you, Dean. I want to be here for you. From now on, I won't run and I won't hide... And you shouldn't either."
"I'm not," Dean countered automatically. Cas didn't reply, because they both knew Dean had been running his whole life, and he was running now, even, but they didn't need to acknowledge it aloud, not yet anyway.
"You shouldn't be here, Cas."
"I'm not ever leaving you."
Dean let out a small broken laugh, blinking once more. This time some thin tears escaped. "You shouldn't promise something you can't carry out."
Cas was quiet for a long moment. Dean started to think that the angel had gone away. Vanished. Like everyone else. He breathed slowly through his icy lips, letting the tears set their pace and intensity.
"I would die to carry out my promise to you."
Dean turned around, his pulse speeding up. Cas was a few meters away from him (here, he was still here). Dean was higher, standing on the railing but still, the angel seemed so... big. Majestic. Back straight in a perfect line, chin held out confidently. The two lamps behind him were obscured by rippling shadows from top to bottom of something huge and beautiful... Wings, Dean realized. Castiel's wings spread out to impress. Like a king's cloak. And impress they did.
They took his breath away.
Cas' eyes burned with a blue fire when he reached out his hand to him. "Please, allow me to show you."