Poisk Istiny [Finding Truth] - Chapter Nine A

[lotrspnfangirl]

Alcohol Packaging Warehouse
180 Morgan Avenue
Brooklyn, New York

“Take a left up here,” Sam instructed.

Dean drummed his fingers nervously on the steering wheel as he entered the warehouse district. They had checked Castiel's house first, just in case, and when there was no sign of him there they went to the club. Dean had immediately noticed the lack of Bratva and bodyguards and they both knew that the information Gabriel provided was correct.

Dean took a left and as soon as they pulled into the lot filled with warehouses, he felt the warm press of his brother’s hand on his shoulder. “I think you should park here.” Dean nodded and pulled the car up beside a smaller warehouse, hiding it from the large brick colored one in the center. Dean turned off the car and took a deep breath. “He may not be here, Dean.” Sam’s eyes were skimming the area. “So don't go thinking the worst.”

Dean shook his head, clenching his keys in his fist as he reached for the door handle. “We both know that he’s here, Sammy.”

Sam nodded, thankfully not offering any more empty optimism, and they both got out of the car. Dean locked the doors, checked his guns, and Sam followed suit.

“Okay, it's the large warehouse in the center. Their cover is bottling alcohol… so I’m hoping there will be some machines running to mask our entrance for as long as possible.”

Dean nodded and pulled his gun from the holster, clicking off the safety. He watched as Sam did the same. “Eyes open, and be careful.”

Dean took point and Sam followed closely behind. They bobbed and weaved between the warehouses, knowing it would be foolish to walk right up to the front doors from the driveway, until they were one away from their target. Sam elbowed Dean in the side and nodded to the front door of the warehouse where one of the bykis Dean recognized from the club stood guard.

Sam bent down and picked up a large rock and took a few steps back before he launched it at the side of the warehouse. The brother’s pressed their backs flat against the hot metal wall and waited until they heard the crunching of gravel, signaling approaching footsteps. Dean slid his hand in his jacket and pulled out a long knife that had been a gift from Bobby.

When the man rounded the corner, Sam knocked the gun from his hands and Dean stepped behind him, wrapping one arm around his chest as his other brought the knife up, effectively slitting his throat in one fluid movement. Dean let go of the man and Sam caught him as he fell forward, carefully laying him down against the wall of the warehouse out of view.

They continued to make their way to the center warehouse where Dean was sure Cas was being held. Sam pointed to a ladder near the corner that lead up to a huge window. “We may be able to see what’s going on inside… or at least get a bit of the layout. Watch my back. I'm going to take a look.”

Dean stood guard at the bottom of the ladder, keeping watch at the front doors in case they were coming up on a shift change, as Sam climbed. As soon as his brothers feet were back on the ground Dean asked, “Well, what did you see? Is Cas in there?”

Sam swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, he's in there.”

Dean's heartbeat sped up. “Is he... Sammy, uh, is he still alive?”

“He's alive, they have him tied to a chair.”

Dean let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and nodded his head. “How many men are in there?”

Sam sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “I'd say it's definitely the whole damn Bratva, Dean.”

Dean ran his fingers back through his hair, racking his brain for a way for the three of them to get out of this alive. Or… at least two of them. “I don't give a fuck how many men are in there. I'm going in and I'm getting my mate and you are going to get your ass back to Jessica.”

Sam clapped Dean on the shoulder. “I got your back Dean, and I've got a plan.”

***

Dean nodded once to Sam and together they slammed opened the doors to the section of the warehouse where Castiel was being held. In the center of the room, Michael spun around, a metal blade in his left hand, and his eyes widened as he took in Dean and Sam barging into the room.

“Get them!” he growled, dropping the knife to the ground and reaching around his back for his gun. “Bring them to me alive!”

Gunfire rang out throughout the warehouse as the entire Bratva pulled their weapons and started firing at the front of the room. Dean shoved Sam to the side and the two of them dodged the bullets and hid behind the various crates, glass and alcohol exploding from the shelves above them.

“Alive!” Michael screamed. “And stop shooting my liquor!”

As the gunfire died down, the brothers made their way deeper into the warehouse and closer to where Castiel was tied. A large, wooden crate sat at the end of a row of shelves and Dean pressed himself against it, looking around and shaking his head at Sam. This was as close as they were going to get.

“Drop your guns!” a gruff voice demanded, and they could tell it was from above the crate they were behind. After exchanging a look, Dean dropped his gun to the ground and Sam followed suit. Rough hands gripped the back of Dean’s jacket, yanking him to his feet, and he could feel someone pulling Sam up on the other side of him. They were pulled into the center of the room and shoved before Michael who was standing beside Castiel’s chair.

As soon as Dean was released, he lunged forwards towards his mate. “Cas!”

Michael fired his gun into the air, sparks spraying down from the metal roof as the bullet hit it and Sam reached forward, gripping Dean’s shoulder tightly to stop him. Dean looked up at Michael’s face and glared as the Alpha smirked back at him before lowering his gun. Dean tore his eyes away from Michael and found Cas’.

“Are you okay?”

Castiel smiled back in response, his teeth stained with blood, and Dean growled at the sight. “It’s good to see you, Dean, but you and Sam should not have come.”

“Oh, on the contrary,” Michael chirped. “I am quite glad he came. It saves me the trouble of hunting them down to kill them. Also,” Michael smiled and looked down at Castiel. “This way, you can watch your mate die, just like you forced me to watch Hael die.”

Dean glanced away from Castiel and gave Michael a confused look. Michael grinned and added, “That's right, I know all about how my baby brother is your whore.”

Dean forced himself to swallow the growl that threatened to spill from his lips. Michael pointed his gun at Dean, his finger poised on the trigger. Dean held up both of his hands. “Woah, aren't you at least going to give a dying man one request?”

Michael lowered his gun and clicked his tongue. “What is it you want, Don Winchester?”

“A cigarette,” Dean replied with a shrug, keeping his eyes trained on Michael’s face.

Michael raised an eyebrow, glancing between the brothers before asking, “I wasn't aware you smoked.”

Dean shrugged again. “I don't. But if I’m going to die, I figured hey, no time like the present to start.”

“Someone give the Don a cigarette. Would you like one as well?” He turned to Sam, flicking his gun to the side to motion one of the Bratva members into action.

“Hell, why not,” Sam huffed. “It's not like it's gonna kill me right?” Michael turned to his men and while he was preoccupied, Dean shot Castiel a quick wink. A moment later, Dean watched Michael approaching them, two cigarettes in his hand. He held them out and both brothers slipped one between their lips. Michael, with his eyes trained on each of the Winchesters as he did so, leaned forward to light Sam’s and then Dean’s before stepping back.

“So… tell me Don Winchester, why Castiel? Surely you could have done better,” Michael sneered as Dean took a small puff of the cigarette and smirked around the filter.

He blew out a stream of smoke and smiled at Castiel before looking back at Michael. “He’s my true mate, there’s no doing better than that. And, if he weren’t my true mate? I would still choose him. He’s perfect, strong, smart and there is no one else I would ever want to be with.”

Michael snorted and reached down, squeezing Castiel’s shoulder tightly. “Strong? Perfect? I don’t think so. He’s an Omega, automatically spoiled goods, and had to hide his identity from his entire family. That screams trus to me.” He looked back at Dean and sneered, “He is a coward.”

Dean glared back at Michael, flicking hot ash from the end of the cigarette as he replied, “He was strong enough to lead this entire fucking Bratva for the past twelve years, gain extra territory and resources, and keep plenty of money in all of your fucking pockets. Not one of you had a problem until this bastard stepped forward for his own personal gains!” Dean addressed the rest of the Bratva.

Michael took a step forward, his fists clenched, but Sam cut him off, clearing his throat as he took a long drag from his cigarette. “Well Dean, as much fun as this has been and all… I think it’s time we get your mate and get out of here.”

Dean twisted the cigarette between his fingers. “You know, Sammy, I was just thinking the same thing.”

Michael burst out laughing, his anger at Dean momentarily forgotten as he shook his head. “You two cannot be serious! Do you really think you have any chance of making it out of here alive?”

Dean smirked at Sam, shrugging a shoulder. “Oh, I think we’ve got a slim chance.”

Sam hummed in agreement. “And I will take a slim chance over none.”

The brothers exchanged a look and Michael snorted, rolling his eyes. “You’re surrounded by fifty men. It’s just the two of you and my pathetic excuse for a brother tied up to a chair.”

“Ready, Sam?”

“Ready, Dean.”

The two flicked their cigarettes in Michael's direction, narrowly missing him. Dean watched, along with Michael and Sam and probably the rest of the Bratva, as the lit cigarettes arched and landed in the thinnest layer of alcohol on the concrete floor. Michael swore, his eyes widened in horror, as the alcohol caught fire and then spread, flames following the spilt alcohol, lighting up the boxes and shelves.

It was a frenzy as the men tried to move out of the way of the flames, but the fire spread too quickly and was licking its way up the shelves and blocking half of the exit ways. Some of the Bratva that were standing on the alcohol soaked floor, or who had gotten their clothes splashed and drenched, were fighting the fire as it made its way onto them.

“Don’t let them escape!” Michael screamed, stepping back onto a dry part of the warehouse. A large Russian that Dean recognized as the other byki normally guarding the offices, charged Sam and knocked him back. Sam kicked out at the man and Dean looked up just as Michael raised his gun and pointed it at Castiel.

“No!” Dean yelled over the commotion of the warehouse and lunged at Michael, slamming the Alpha into a wall of crates, but the sound of two shots echoed in Dean’s head. He spun around and saw Balthazar standing in front of Castiel, a shocked look on his face and his hands pressed against his stomach. Blood trickled from between Balthazar’s fingers and the man turned to look down at Castiel, a small smile on his lips as he dropped to his knees.

“I'm sorry, Brother. I don't care if you are an Omega you are moya sem'ya. You get out of here and take care of my niece or nephew.” Blood poured freely from Balthazar’s wounds and bubbled at the corner of his mouth as he took his last breath and crumbled to the concrete at Castiel’s feet.

“Durachit’!” Michael screamed out and Dean moved to take him down for good, but not before he got off one more shot. The gun flew from Michael’s hand as Dean’s fist collided with his stomach and Michael responded with punches of his own. They fought for the upper hand, the sound of people fighting the flames or fighting to get out of the warehouse going on around them. Finally, Dean managed to elbow Michael in the throat, the Alpha choking on the sudden lack of air and Dean was able to get him on the ground, pinning him down with his knees. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his knife, plunging it deep into the center of Michael’s chest.

Michael gasped, a bubble of blood bursting from his mouth and splattering his chin as he stared in shock up at Dean. “That was for hurting my mate, you son of a bitch.” He twisted the blade, just for effect, and then withdrew it from Michael's chest, the Alpha’s eyes open but lifeless as they stared up at the ceiling.

To the side, Dean saw Sam pushing himself up from the ground, wiping blood from his hands onto his jeans. He turned to find Castiel’s chair toppled over. He saw his mate’s feet hanging over the top and a pool of blood forming around the base.

“No,” he whispered, his heart lodging in his chest. He dropped the knife, the blade clattering to the ground. “No, no, no,” he repeated as he scrambled over to the chair and fell to his knees beside his mate. Dean let his arms trail over his mate, focusing on a large, wet red stain that was blossoming over his right shoulder.

“Hey,” Castiel whispered, giving a short laugh before pain crossed his expression.

“It’s just your shoulder,” Dean said as he wiped sweat slicked hair back from Castiel’s forehead. “He just got your shoulder.”

“Still fuckin’ hurts,” Cas hissed through gritted teeth.

Dean nodded and righted the chair, wincing as Castiel groaned. “Thank fuck you're alright, Cas.”

“Yeah, and I'll be even better if you get me the fuck out of here,” Castiel rasped with a smirk on his face.

Dean huffed a small laugh and felt his pockets, cursing as he turned around to see the knife still by Michael’s body. He jogged over to it, returning to Castiel to cut him free of the ties. Dean reached for Castiel’s wrists, rubbing the raw skin that had been exposed to the ropes to get blood flow back.

“Alright, come on.” Dean pulled Castiel up into a standing position and then looked around the warehouse to see where Sam ended up. He was perched behind one of the only shelves that hadn’t caught fire and was shooting each Bratva member that was trying to flee.

“Come on, Cas, let's go.” Dean wrapped his arms around his mate, careful not to jostle his shoulder, and led him to the door. They picked their way through flames and bodies and broken glass, Cas wincing each time Dean tugged him to the side from falling debris.

“Duck!” Sam barked as Dean and Cas neared the door.

“Sorry,” Dean said automatically and yanked Castiel to the ground, once again wincing from the sound that escaped Cas’ throat. Above them, Sam pulled the trigger, taking out another member that was trying to escape from behind them.

“Come on!” Sam yelled as he hooked his gun into the door handle and wrenched the door open, kicking it with his boot so neither Dean or Cas would get burned from accidentally touching the metal door. Sam ushered them through and fired once more before the doors slammed shut behind them.

Castiel grimaced once and then looked around the new room they were in. “Dean,” he said as he nodded with his head to a gurney full of random bottle filling equipment. “Hand me that pipe.”

Dean nodded to Sam, his brother silently taking his place at Castiel’s side. They both knew Castiel wouldn’t take too kindly to being treated as ‘fragile’ despite the fact that he looked like he would fall over at any second. Dean retrieved the thick metal bar and handed it back to his mate, then took his place back under Cas’ good shoulder.

Together, they stumbled back towards the double doors and Castiel took a deep breath before he jammed the pipe through the handles trapping the rest of his family inside the building to burn alive. Castiel twisted out of Dean’s hold and took a few steps back before collapsing to his knees. Dean rushed to his side and knelt down beside him, quickly trying to determine if he was in pain or mentally exhausted.

Dean shoved his hands into his pocket and threw the keys towards his brother. “Sam, go get the car!”

“No!” Castiel gasped, shaking his head. “You have to leave the Impala.”

Dean shook his head once, glancing between Sam, who had paused mid-step, and his mate who was bent over in pain. “Fine,” he burst out, looking back at Sam. “Just… get us a damn car. We’ve got to get the hell out of here and fast.”

Sam nodded and turned as Dean turned his attention back to Cas. He dipped down, picking Cas up easily and ignoring the small sound of protest that fell from his mate’s mouth. “We need to go, Cas,” Dean shouted in explanation and ran after his brother. Sam disappeared around the corner of a building and Dean shifted Cas higher in his arms.

All Dean could feel beating down on the dark leather of his jacket was heat, and he tried not to wonder if he was feeling the sun or the flames. He couldn’t, however, ignore the rise of screams and banging and crackling from the building they were fleeing.

He let out a slow breath and tried not to squeeze onto Castiel too tightly. “God, Cas, I am so goddamn glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost you…”

“You could’ve died, Dean!” Castiel hissed, but the sound was pained and didn’t have the effect Dean was sure he’d been going for. “Coming in there... just you and Sam with no backup. What were you thinking?”

“That I couldn't live without you, Cas. That's what I was thinking.” Dean answered, looking down to see Castiel looking over his shoulder at the burning building. They fell silent and Dean looked ahead to the parking lot where Sam was busy breaking into a car. “And we did have a plan,” he added, drawing Cas’ attention back. “Sam looked into that window up there and he noticed the back exit was blocked by all the crates. He also noticed that every crate was filled with pure grain alcohol. We figured if we went in and got them to shoot at us as we darted behind as many crates as we could, we’d be making them bust all those bottles of alcohol. We managed to get around three sides of the room before we let them catch us.”

Cas huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yes and why Michael gave you a cigarette I’ll never know. I could see right through you and I was barely conscious....”

“Exactly! See? We had a plan.”

“A very foolish and flawed plan,” Cas bit back. “If Michael didn’t like to hear himself talk so fucking much… he would’ve just shot you.”

Dean shrugged. “I never said it was perfect, but, Cas,” he grinned at his mate, “I would do it again in a heartbeat,. I couldn't have walked away, not without you.”

Castiel stared into his mate's eyes. “How did you even know where I was?”

“Got it Sammy?” Dean asked as they reached the Cadillac SUV Sam was at. Sam glanced up at him, then over Dean’s shoulder. Both of them knew the black billowing smoke that was now taking over the city sky would be missed for long.

“I’m good,” Sam answered and then slammed his elbow, hard, against the driver’s side door. “Fuck!” He winced and Dean flinched at the sound, but the window was spidered. Sam made quick work of the rest of the window and then got the car opened.

“Get it going, Sammy,” Dean said softly as he unlocked the back door and helped Castiel in, careful not to jostle his shoulder as he put him down.

“Dean,” Castiel pressed, pain flashing across his face as he shifted and leaned against the car door. “How did you know where I was?”

“We, uh, we found Gordon back in Boston. He’d taken Sam’s mate and that’s why… well, that’s why I went back to Boston in the first place.”

Castiel swallowed hard, both of them remembering the issue they had yet to talk about. Up front, the car suddenly roared to life and Sam made a triumphant sound as he hopped into the seat and slammed the door.

“Dean, shut the door.”

Dean complied, and Sam slammed the car into gear and took off down the back of the warehouse district just as the first sounds of sirens could be heard.

“Is she okay?” Castiel asked softly, and Dean met his eyes, his heart warming at Castiel’s genuine concern.

“She's fine, Cas. He roughed her up a bit, but she’s strong and she’s safe. Anyway,” Dean let out small growl, “Gordon let some things slip and we figured out that he was working with someone in the Bratva. We already knew about Lucifer,” he looked unflinchingly at his mate, “but it seemed bigger than that. Gordon mentioned that there was a plan to take over control and I knew then that you were in danger.” Dean let out a deep breath as he shook his head at himself. “I tried to call your cell, but it went straight to voicemail… that’s when I really started to worry.

Cas reached out with his undamaged hand and rested it on Dean’s arm. He gave it a gentle squeeze that conveyed understanding and forgiveness.

Dean covered Cas’ hand with his own, then reached out to steady him as Sam swung the tiny car around a tight corner and headed towards the highway. The movement caused fresh blood to well down Cas’ arm and Dean looked down at the small puddle that was forming beneath his mate. Silently, he shifted closer and put pressure against the wound. Then he answered, “When we got Jess back to the house, Sam called Alastair and I kept trying to call you. Finally, Sam got in contact with an old friend from college, calls himself, Doctor Badass,” Dean allowed himself a small chuckle, “between him and Gabriel, we hacked into the server at the club and figured out the truth, that Michael was the mastermind all along,” he looked into his mate’s pained gaze. “He’d been planning on taking over your position for months. God, Cas!”

“So, I’ve learned,” Cas nodded, looking down their joined hands.

Dean sucked in a long breath. “Anyway, this Doctor Badass guy was good, like FBI hacker good. He was able to pull up the sale records for this warehouse so we had an address, then he got us into the employee emails.”

“I should have realized…” Castiel said softly and Dean immediately silenced him by crushing their lips together.

“No, don’t,” he whispered against Castiel’s mouth. “Michael has been planning this for years. He was good, too good. I’m just glad we stopped him before it was too late.”

“I was so sure I would never see you again, Dean,” Castiel whispered back against his lips and it made Dean’s entire chest tighten.

“Well I'm Goddamn glad that's not the case,” Dean replied.

“All I could think,” Cas’s voice betrayed his pain, “was that I was never going to see my mate again and that I was never going to have to opportunity to hold our pup…”

Sam swerved and glanced over his shoulders wide eyed. “I'm really going to be an uncle?”

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Cas beat him to it. Cas’ voice was soft but his head turned to the side so he could look Dean in the eyes as he said, “Yes, Sam, you are going to be an uncle.”

Sam glanced over his shoulder again smiling. “That's.... wow, I don't know wha-”

“Eyes on the road, Samantha! We can braid each other's hair and have our chick flick moments later. First we have to get Cas to a hospital,” Dean’s voice was stern but he was smiling as he looked down at Cas. This meant… Dean’s heart skipped a beat as he realized he was going to be a dad.

“No,” Castiel stated, shaking his head.

“Okay, no hospital. Crowley then.”

“No,” Castiel repeated.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘no’?” Dean argued, resisting the urge to make Castiel turn to face him, “Castiel Krushnic, you have been shot in the shoulder, you are losing blood!” He continued putting pressure on his mate’s shoulder.

“Then you” Cas’s gaze bore into Dean’s, “will need to take care of me. I can't go to the hospital and I can't go to Crowley!” He struggled to sit up, but Dean kept him resting. “Look,” he grabbed Dean’s arm, “as far as everyone is concerned? Castiel Krushnic died in that fire with his Bratva.”

“Why, Cas?” Dean asked.

Castiel shifted and raised his hand to place it on his mate's cheek. “Because this is my way out, Dean. My fresh start. This is a way for us to raise our pup in peace without fear of a rival family coming after them, or without me having to worry about something happening to me and leaving our pup with one less parent. My Bratva is dead, there is nothing left for me as Pakhan.”

Dean blew out a slow breath, could feel Sam’s eyes on him from the rearview mirror. He hesitated, then asked, “Are you sure this is what you want, Cas?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes, I'm sure Dean.” Cas gave Dean’s hand a gentle squeeze. “You do realize that I can't come back to Boston with you,” Dean saw a new gentleness in his mate’s eyes, “that I'm going to have to leave the country? I need to get as far away from here as I can.”

Dean opened his mouth and Castiel placed his fingers over it. “I'm not asking anything from you, Dean. I understand that you have family obligations and we will figure out whatever we need to. You can go back for your Impala… I was just worried that Michael would have more men--”

Dean grabbed Castiel's hand and pulled it away from his lips, holding it tightly in his own. “The only family obligations I have are to my family in this car. Do you really think I would let you go off on your own and raise our kid without me? Not a chance, Cas. Where you go? I go.”

Cas’ eyes shined with unshed tears for a moment before he blinked them away and let them fall shut. Dean gave him a small smile and then frowned as he realized how pale his mate was. Carefully, he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Hey, Sam? Take us to the cabin.”

Sam nodded. “Hold tight, Cas, we will get you patched up soon.”

Castiel smiled, his voice barely audible as he said, “Thank you, Sam.”

Dean stared at the phone in his hand, twisting it before he let out a long sigh. He had a phone call to make. Dean scrolled through his contacts and stopped on Benny. He took a deep breath before he pressed the call button and pressed it against his ear. At the rough ‘Hello’ barked at him, Dean started talking quickly.

“Benny-- don't let on to anyone who you are on the phone with and if you are in a room with others I need you to step out and take this call. Understand?” Dean heard Benny muffle a, ‘I gotta take this call I will be right back,’ and then heard the sound of footsteps and a door being opened.

Dean heard the door shut followed by his friend’s worried tone. “Dean what the hell is going on? Why can't I let the family know who I am talking to? They are worried about you.”

Dean felt a slight pang of guilt about what he was getting ready to put his family through but as Castiel pressed closer to his side and he took in their mated scent, it slightly quelled his guilt. He knew this was a hard decision but in the long run it was best for him, Cas, and their pup.

“Benny I don't have time to explain what's going on,” Dean rushed, “and in truth? This is a conversation that needs to be had face to face. I need you to get Rufus and the two of you pick up Bobby’s body and meet us at the cabin.”

“What cabin?”

“Rufus and Bobby own a hunting cabin in Vermont. We’re on our way there now and we will be waiting for you. Just remember, Benny,” Dean had steel in his voice as he cautioned his friend, “not a word on who you talked to, make up a story about where you and Rufus are going. He's the only other person beside you that's to know what's going on.”

Dean heard Benny sigh. “I don't know what the hell is going on, but you can count on me Brotha.”

“I know, Benny, that's why it was you I called,” Dean replied.

“Alright… I’ll go find Rufus.”

“I will explain everything as soon as you two get here,” Dean promised and felt Castiel squeeze his hand gently.

“See you soon, Boss,” Benny replied before the line went dead. Dean pressed the off button on his phone and dropped it to the seat beside him before he placed his chin on top of Cas’ shoulder, letting their scents steady him. This was for them, for his mate and their pup. For family.



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