fic: The Strange Face of Love 2/14
Title: The Strange Face of Love
Author: Psammead
Summary: Pseudo-Canon: Dean and Cas have a relationship of sorts over the span of 3 years. They have that profound bond, but it’s not some chick-flick, one-true-love deal. It’s messy and painful, but desperately sweet. It's what could have happened off screen.
Rating: NC-17
Notes/Warnings: An attempt to stick to canon. Spoilers, massive, massive spoilers, as this fic runs concurrent with seasons 4, 5 and 6. Destiel, straight up, although it acknowledges canon parings. Mostly schmoopiness, some hurt/comfort, some Dean/Cas/Pie, teeny bit of wingfic, eventual non-consent, but a lot of ooey-gooey romance, too, a little bit of everything, really. A lot of blasphemy. Basically, it started when I got fed up with all the AU silliness when it's so easy to see Dean and Cas being involved without violating canon. There's so much in the show that seems to just be unspoken, or incomplete, and as a rabid fangirl, I needed to fill the gaps. (insert joke about the boys filling my gaps here)
Disclaimer: I'm not Kripke or Gamble, I obviously do not own Supernatural, Dean or Castiel in any way, shape or form, because if I did, you would be watching this on HBO complete with swearing and sex
instead. There is a great deal of canon and certain lines of dialogue referenced in my fic, used solely to establish when in the timeline of the series the scenes occur. I figure, if you're reading this, you're obviously a fan of the show, and should know exactly what I didn't come up with on my own. In addition, I reference several classic rock songs and various movies/books. A list of credits will be provided at the end.
Thank you!
The Strange Face of Love
Chapter One can be found here: http://ninjapsammead.livejournal.com/1797.html
Chapter Two: I Hear the Voices When I'm Dreaming
When Castiel visited the hunter again, he noticed something unusual about Dean's slumber. He stood above the sleeping human, and cocked his head to the side. Dean was twitching, moving his arms as if to block attack. He cried out gutturally, and Castiel decided to investigate the source of Dean's unrest.
Dean dreamed of Hell.
"My goodness, Dean, you have the perkiest nipples."
A demon was bent over Dean's back, moving violently against the human. Castiel woke him up. He didn't care to see anymore. Whatever that demon was doing, it seemed to be a violation of Dean's very soul.
He didn't have time to fix the broken shreds in Dean's unconscious. He needed Dean to know other things right now. He would remember to come back.
Castiel found it interesting that Dean Winchester would have allowed hundreds of people to die to save his family; that he would give anything to not be a hunter, when it was so clearly what he was made to do. In retrospect, Castiel thought he should not have allowed Dean to think he could change the past, but his superiors wanted to understand how Dean would react to certain situations before the final tests came. Causing Dean this pain through his deception caused more of the bizarre gut twisting.
He went to Dean in his dreams again that night. The human dozed fitfully in the backseat of the Impala, after confronting his brother. This time, Dean was dreaming of his childhood. John was teaching him about the engine of the Impala. He was six years old, back when he was still too young to understand how fucked up his life really was. Castiel watched in silence for a while, observing the care John took to reverently point out each part to the fascinated child.
Grown-up Dean appeared quietly next to Cas, watching the angel, watching himself.
"A dream? Don't you think it's kinda rude to invade other people's dreams?"
Castiel was almost startled. "It is the most efficient way to contact you. I can find your subconscious anywhere, without being physically present, or without as much time passing as it would outside your mind. I… I wanted to talk to you… about Hell."
Dean wouldn't look the angel in the face. "I don't want to talk about it."
"I… I saw your dream before, of the demon, the violation… I am sorry you had to go through that, Dean. I am sorry we could not reach you in time. I want to do what I can to repair you," he said sincerely.
"So I'm broken? You brought me back not quite right?" Now Dean looked right at him, glaring, accusatory. Castiel found his gaze slipping away from the furious eyes. It was unpleasant to hold eye contact for that long, he discovered.
"No man could experience Hell and be unchanged. However, there is something I could do to make it… easier on you."
Dean returned his gaze to his father, carefully guiding child-Dean's hand in pointing out each component that made the engine work. "No. No, thank you. I will deal with it myself, like everything else in this shitty world. I don't need the angels."
Dean woke up. His new antagonist, the fucking holier-than-thou Castiel sat in the front seat. Fucking, holier than anything else ever, cause he's a friggin' angel, Dean thought viciously. Dean got out of the back angrily, and slammed the door. Castiel appeared next to him.
"Seriously, you can just fuck right off. First, you send me back, lie to me, and then as soon as I'm back, you send me after Sammy and his demon bitch? Fuck. This is too much, man, I am not this strong," Dean glared at the angel.
"You are, though. I'm sorry, Dean, my intentions were not to be rude or to hurt you. I-"
"Well, you were and you did. What else is there to say? Fuck you, dude?"
Castiel looked at him, perplexed. "What did you call me?"
"Uh…" The question derailed Dean's fury momentarily, "Ah, dude? It's a nickname. Kinda. So not the point, stay out of my freakin' head!"
Castiel was now clearly exasperated. "Dean, I am trying very hard to be a help to you. I am not here to be rude, or creepy or whatever else you are accusing me of. I do not understand why you are upset when I only wish to help you. Stop acting like a petulant brat!" The angel's voice had risen in volume, and he stopped suddenly on the word brat, and looked somewhat shocked.
Dean wondered, Is this the first time he's felt? Anything? He took a steadying breath.
"Okay. I get it. I'm sorry. You were trying to be on the level with me. Share information. That's good. From now on, let's try using our words, 'kay? Instead of cryptic dreams and sending me into situations half-cocked?"
"I can try to use my words," Castiel acquiesced, "But I cannot promise anything, Dean. These are desperate times. The end of times. We are all fighting for our lives now."
Dean sighed, "I just don't think I am strong enough, really, I don't."
"God chose you, Dean. If he believes in you, what else do you need? He would not have chosen you if you were not fit for the task."
"I don't think it's that easy, Cas," Dean looked over at the angel.
"What did you call me now?" Castiel furrowed his brow.
"Uh… Humans shorten names, sometimes for convenience, sometimes for affection. Like, Sam's name is Samuel, but we call him Sam. Or Sammy."
"It's interesting that you remove the end of the word. The suffix 'el' means, 'of God, or by God.'"
"What does your name mean, then?" Am I actually having a conversation with Cas? About nicknames? Dean almost laughed to himself.
"My name means, 'covered by God'." Castiel looked off into the distance.
"Is it okay if I call you Cas?" It occurred to Dean that leaving the 'el' off his name could be blasphemous, not that Dean cared about blasphemy, but he figured it would be shitty to offend the angel after his tirade about not being rude.
Castiel's lips almost twitched up at the corners. "You seem to call me many things, so I suppose it doesn't matter which you choose above the others."
"Just don't call you late for dinner?" Dean smiled. Cas raised a quizzical brow.
"I will return to you when I can, Dean. I am sorry that I chose the way I did to inform you about Sam. But I meant what I said. If you cannot control your brother, I will have to. He is too dangerous to be allowed to continue as he is." The angel's face went from placid to deadly serious in the middle of his final sentence.
"I understand. I'll get him to cut out the extracurricular activities. Uh…" Dean wasn't quite comfortable yet with the idea of not hating the angel, but he agreed with him on this at least. "Thanks, Cas." He heard a noise like a murder of crows, and when he looked over, he was alone.
He sat a while, contemplating Sam's treachery. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got that he had to find out from an angel, and that his little brother had gotten so lost without him. Maybe he was really angry at himself for leaving, or at the demons for destroying their lives to begin with, but by the time he got back to the motel, it didn't matter who was really to blame, he was fucking pissed that Sam was the one lying to him.
Castiel received orders as soon as he returned home. Lilith was up to something. He followed her for a week, as she bought massive amounts of livestock and transported it somewhere mysterious. Finally, Cas was able to track her to Egypt. Uriel was assigned to go along with him, because he had been tracking Lilith's partner, and he knew which seal it was. They were to contact the garrison if it seemed more than they could handle.
Cas and Uriel blinked into existence on the edges of the Negev desert, near the Sinai-Negev erg. They quickly ducked behind a rocky outcropping and surveyed the chaos below them. Hundreds of lambs milled about, enclosed in fencing. There was an enormous crocodile, bigger than any that had walked the earth since the dawn of humankind, sunning itself in another enclosure. Demons patrolled both fence lines, which were separated only by a narrow strip of desert. Several dozen humans toiled under the burning sun, building an enormous clay statue of a horrible beast. There was a red pavilion off to the side of the construction, surrounded by dead bodies that looked like other workers that had passed out from the heat and dehydration and then died.
"They will raise the False Prophet, and will sacrifice six hundred and sixty six lambs to Sobek, who shall raise the Beast and give him power. Sobek commanded the humans to create a false idol, and this idol shall be given power to destroy all those who do not worship him. There are three seals here, Castiel, we cannot fail. Each time we fight, we lose another inch of ground. That ends today," Uriel whispered, "I will go around to the other side, and slay Sobek. You get into the pavilion, and stop Lilith from raising the False Prophet. Hopefully, we can prevent the beast from ever rising."
Castiel nodded, and Uriel vanished. Castiel flew silently down, invisible to the demons and crouched by the pavilion. Inside, he heard Lilith's child-voice chanting in song. He peered inside and saw a small Egyptian girl, hands outstretched over a pile of bones, bathed in blood. As he watched, the bones began to glow, and he raised his sword, ready to strike. Suddenly, there was a horrible pain radiating from his chest, his sword fell from numb fingers, and Castiel looked down to see the curved end of an enormous khopesh, an Egyptian sickle, protruding from his chest. He pulled himself forward and whirled around, the blade still stuck through his body as he faced the demon that had run him through.
"Well, well, well. Look who it is. Dean Winchester's new boyfriend, the angel of the lord, his holiness, Castiel," The slippery voice slid from the giant Israeli man's lips like sarcasm-laced oil, "When you're taking your pleasure in his firm, human flesh, remember this. I had him first."
Castiel reached behind himself, attempting to pull the blade out. The pain in his chest was increasing.
"Wh-what-" he stammered out, and the demon laughed.
"I'm Alistair. We met in the Pit, briefly. I haven't had the pleasure yet, of gutting you, but I assure you, that's next," Alistair drew a second, smaller khopesh from the sheath at his side, "Do you like my blades? They're not as fun as the ones I used on Dean, but they get the job done. They belonged to Ptolemy, the Avenger of Baq-t. They won't kill an angel, oh no, but they'll slow you down, steal your Grace away for long enough."
Behind him, Castiel heard a low rumbling as Lilith finished chanting. Alistair seized upon the distraction, and threw the second khopesh. It entered Castiel's stomach, and he fell to his knees.
He heard a ragged breath drawn from behind him, and twisted on the sand to see a naked black man where the bones had been.
"What the hell?" the man gasped.
"Gordon Walker," Lilith acknowledged the man with a nod, "I am Lilith. We have raised you from the Pit, and we have much work for you to do. Come," she held out her tiny hand, and led the man from the pavilion, past Castiel's twitching body. Alistair laughed.
"The False Prophet. So fitting, isn't it? Gordon always thought he was the Messiah. He's going to take special pleasure in killing your boy, you know. Somehow, I think he's going to really enjoy what we have planned for Sam, now that Gordon's served his time in the Pit. He really came around to my way of thinking, you know?" Alistair reached down, and dragged the larger khopesh through the front of Castiel's chest, "And now, I have his special blade. It's really lovely that you decided to come, Castiel. The False Prophet needed a weapon anointed with an angel's blood to do his work."
Castiel was unable to move, the magic of the second khopesh sapping his Grace. All he could do was watch in agony as Alistair opened the gates and allowed Sobek to lazily saunter into the panicking herd of lambs. Then Alistair vanished. Cas could see three figures appear up on the rocky outcropping he and Uriel had crouched behind earlier.
Where is Uriel? he thought wildly, and tried to stand. He failed. He lay, panting on the sand, as Sobek consumed lambs by the dozen, snapping their bones with his giant teeth, soaking the sand with their blood. The earth began to shake beneath them all, and the sky began to turn as red as the sand.
Castiel could feel the last of his power about to fade, and suddenly, he thought of the white soul he had dragged from the Pit. He could almost see Dean's green eyes looking into his heart, and then he thought for a second he could hear Dean's rough voice, low and commanding in his ears.
"Kick it in the ass, Cas. I believe in you."
With his last shred of strength, Castiel reached up and dragged the khopesh from his gut. As he staggered to his feet, Uriel appeared next to him.
"I failed, they ambushed me. I only fought them off now. The rest of the garrison isn't responding," Uriel said, and then took in the sight of Cas's bleeding torso. He laid two fingers on Cas's brow, and his wounds were healed instantly, his Grace restored. "What happened?"
"I failed as well. They raised the False Prophet." Something burning whizzed down past the angels. They looked up, and saw fire begin to stream down from the reddened sky.
"There!" Uriel pointed out to where Sobek had slaughtered the last of the lambs, and now lay bloated on the pile of carcasses. In front of the terrible crocodile, the ground split open. A great paw, black and clawed, reached up out of the hole, and Castiel felt something he thought might be fear well up inside of him as the rest of the Beast emerged from the crack in the earth.
It was terrible, mighty, and horrifying. It had seven heads, all lizard like, with great curled horns rising between them. Each mouth was full of lion's fangs, and its body was feline, spotted black and red. One of the heads was crushed, and Sobek opened his jaws to let fire rush forth, engulfing the head. When the flames cleared, the Beast was healed and it rose up, enormous bat wings unfurling from its back. Then it bowed low before Sobek, who hissed at it.
He heard Dean's voice again in his head, "Okay, maybe not in the ass. Try the heart. Go. GO NOW!"
Castiel pushed off the ground, the smaller khopesh clutched in his hand. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, exactly, but he knew he had to do something before the Idol could be given power.
He blinked out of existence, re materializing on the rocks between Lilith and Alistair. Gordon stood with his back to them, all three focused on the Beast.
"You won't break all three seals, whore," he growled in Lilith's ear, and laid his hands on the foreheads of the demons. Light shone from their eyes, and the vessels collapsed, bleeding. Gordon turned at the noise, and Castiel tackled him, shoving the False Prophet down on the sand. Before he could react, Cas stabbed Gordon in the heart with the smaller khopesh, jerked it up to ensure the end of the False Prophet. Gordon's eyes widened in shock, and he choked as blood filled his mouth. Cas took the enormous khopesh and he flew as fast as he could, even faster than when he had saved Dean, and banked abruptly down and around the Beast, landing on its back. He stuck the khopesh down into its side, where he thought the heart might be, shoving his entire arm into the body of the creature, shoulder deep. Acidic black blood oozed up, and Beast lest out an agonizing, ear shattering roar. Cas withdrew his arm, leaving the blade in the Beast. Cas pushed himself up, and flew up above the battlefield.
The Beast fell, writhing, back into the crevasse, his claws reaching out and catching Sobek, dragging the crocodile with it back into the Pit. The crack in the Earth closed over the monster bodies, and the sky ceased to rain fire and began to clear. Castiel flew down to the bloody sand, his vessel winded, almost in shock that he had seamlessly ended the Rise of the Beast.
Uriel still stood where Castiel had left him, motionless. When he saw that the battle was over, he vanished and reappeared next to Cas.
"I'm sorry, Castiel. I was… I didn't know what you planned, or I would have helped."
"I didn't know myself," Castiel said simply. They stayed, keeping a silent vigil until night fell over the desert, and they were certain that it was over.
In Heaven, Castiel received much praise form his superiors, and he was surprised to be put in charge of the garrison, replacing Uriel. Apparently, they had never heard Uriel's request for assistance.
"You have a better head for dealing with the Winchesters," Zachariah told him, "And Uriel has more particular skills. You'll be a good leader, you can keep Uriel in line."
Castiel wasn't entirely comfortable with his new role. He was used to serving with Uriel under Haniel, but she had fallen decades ago, and her garrison split. After his new garrison had been killed, he didn't enjoy Uriel's company as much. He thought to himself, it is perhaps unwise of Zachariah to place me in charge of one formerly my superior. But as God wills, so I shall act.
They had just killed the Dracula shape shifter, and that night, Dean had the weirdest dream of his life up to that point.
It started out a nightmare. He saw Castiel, lying on the ground in a vast sea of sand, impaled, and he watched the angel watch a giant Crocodile slaughter lambs. He cried out to Cas, and saw him drag the blade out of his chest. Dean's attention was then captured by the enormous monster he saw rising from the ground, and he modified his previous encouragement. He saw Cas lift off the ground, could almost see the dark shape of wings driving him up, and then he was no longer watching the desert scene.
He walked down an endless hallway, dark and stinking of blood and vomit. There was a dark figure somewhere ahead of him, and he felt like he had been walking for years, trying to reach it. He finally broke into a run, almost slipping in the excrement coating the floor. Then he was there, and he could see that the figure was Sam, his back to Dean, crouching over a corpse. Sam whirled around, eyes wide and dark, face smeared in blood. He spoke, black smoke pouring from his free hand, sliding towards Dean as the words left Sam's lips, "This is my choice." He held a gnawed human leg in his other hand.
Dean backed away in horror, "No, Sammy," he choked out, voice cracking, "Not the long pig!"
Sam advanced on him, and suddenly everything went black.
He opened his eyes, now laying horizontal on what was possibly the best bed ever, white and impossibly soft, and surrounded by drifting cloudy veils.
Jamie, the bar maid, was draped over him, purring in his ear. "You saved my life, you know," she whispered, and nipped his lobe slightly. She pulled back and he was looking into Lisa's eyes, the one woman to whom his thoughts always wandered to when he was feeling particularly sappy and sentimental.
"We miss you. Come home." Dean reached up to touch her cheek and blue eyes suddenly stared back at him. Castiel was now straddling him.
"Good things do happen, Dean. You don't believe you deserve to be saved?" Cas leaned forward and kissed Dean on the mouth. It was warm, and soft, so much softer than Dean thought kissing a man should be, and the angel's tongue delicately parted Dean's lips and caressed Dean's tongue. It felt like a bolt of lightening shot down his spine, straight to his dick. A perfect kiss.
Dean woke up, rock hard and feeling decidedly disturbed. "Huh." he said to himself, and got up to jump in an icy shower, think about naked, female nurses and cheerleaders to reassert his heterosexuality, and push his Sammy issues as far out of his mind as mentally possible.
Chapter Three: http://ninjapsammead.livejournal.com/4863.html
Author: Psammead
Summary: Pseudo-Canon: Dean and Cas have a relationship of sorts over the span of 3 years. They have that profound bond, but it’s not some chick-flick, one-true-love deal. It’s messy and painful, but desperately sweet. It's what could have happened off screen.
Rating: NC-17
Notes/Warnings: An attempt to stick to canon. Spoilers, massive, massive spoilers, as this fic runs concurrent with seasons 4, 5 and 6. Destiel, straight up, although it acknowledges canon parings. Mostly schmoopiness, some hurt/comfort, some Dean/Cas/Pie, teeny bit of wingfic, eventual non-consent, but a lot of ooey-gooey romance, too, a little bit of everything, really. A lot of blasphemy. Basically, it started when I got fed up with all the AU silliness when it's so easy to see Dean and Cas being involved without violating canon. There's so much in the show that seems to just be unspoken, or incomplete, and as a rabid fangirl, I needed to fill the gaps. (insert joke about the boys filling my gaps here)
Disclaimer: I'm not Kripke or Gamble, I obviously do not own Supernatural, Dean or Castiel in any way, shape or form, because if I did, you would be watching this on HBO complete with swearing and sex
instead. There is a great deal of canon and certain lines of dialogue referenced in my fic, used solely to establish when in the timeline of the series the scenes occur. I figure, if you're reading this, you're obviously a fan of the show, and should know exactly what I didn't come up with on my own. In addition, I reference several classic rock songs and various movies/books. A list of credits will be provided at the end.
Thank you!
The Strange Face of Love
Chapter One can be found here: http://ninjapsammead.livejournal.com/1797.html
Chapter Two: I Hear the Voices When I'm Dreaming
When Castiel visited the hunter again, he noticed something unusual about Dean's slumber. He stood above the sleeping human, and cocked his head to the side. Dean was twitching, moving his arms as if to block attack. He cried out gutturally, and Castiel decided to investigate the source of Dean's unrest.
Dean dreamed of Hell.
"My goodness, Dean, you have the perkiest nipples."
A demon was bent over Dean's back, moving violently against the human. Castiel woke him up. He didn't care to see anymore. Whatever that demon was doing, it seemed to be a violation of Dean's very soul.
He didn't have time to fix the broken shreds in Dean's unconscious. He needed Dean to know other things right now. He would remember to come back.
Castiel found it interesting that Dean Winchester would have allowed hundreds of people to die to save his family; that he would give anything to not be a hunter, when it was so clearly what he was made to do. In retrospect, Castiel thought he should not have allowed Dean to think he could change the past, but his superiors wanted to understand how Dean would react to certain situations before the final tests came. Causing Dean this pain through his deception caused more of the bizarre gut twisting.
He went to Dean in his dreams again that night. The human dozed fitfully in the backseat of the Impala, after confronting his brother. This time, Dean was dreaming of his childhood. John was teaching him about the engine of the Impala. He was six years old, back when he was still too young to understand how fucked up his life really was. Castiel watched in silence for a while, observing the care John took to reverently point out each part to the fascinated child.
Grown-up Dean appeared quietly next to Cas, watching the angel, watching himself.
"A dream? Don't you think it's kinda rude to invade other people's dreams?"
Castiel was almost startled. "It is the most efficient way to contact you. I can find your subconscious anywhere, without being physically present, or without as much time passing as it would outside your mind. I… I wanted to talk to you… about Hell."
Dean wouldn't look the angel in the face. "I don't want to talk about it."
"I… I saw your dream before, of the demon, the violation… I am sorry you had to go through that, Dean. I am sorry we could not reach you in time. I want to do what I can to repair you," he said sincerely.
"So I'm broken? You brought me back not quite right?" Now Dean looked right at him, glaring, accusatory. Castiel found his gaze slipping away from the furious eyes. It was unpleasant to hold eye contact for that long, he discovered.
"No man could experience Hell and be unchanged. However, there is something I could do to make it… easier on you."
Dean returned his gaze to his father, carefully guiding child-Dean's hand in pointing out each component that made the engine work. "No. No, thank you. I will deal with it myself, like everything else in this shitty world. I don't need the angels."
Dean woke up. His new antagonist, the fucking holier-than-thou Castiel sat in the front seat. Fucking, holier than anything else ever, cause he's a friggin' angel, Dean thought viciously. Dean got out of the back angrily, and slammed the door. Castiel appeared next to him.
"Seriously, you can just fuck right off. First, you send me back, lie to me, and then as soon as I'm back, you send me after Sammy and his demon bitch? Fuck. This is too much, man, I am not this strong," Dean glared at the angel.
"You are, though. I'm sorry, Dean, my intentions were not to be rude or to hurt you. I-"
"Well, you were and you did. What else is there to say? Fuck you, dude?"
Castiel looked at him, perplexed. "What did you call me?"
"Uh…" The question derailed Dean's fury momentarily, "Ah, dude? It's a nickname. Kinda. So not the point, stay out of my freakin' head!"
Castiel was now clearly exasperated. "Dean, I am trying very hard to be a help to you. I am not here to be rude, or creepy or whatever else you are accusing me of. I do not understand why you are upset when I only wish to help you. Stop acting like a petulant brat!" The angel's voice had risen in volume, and he stopped suddenly on the word brat, and looked somewhat shocked.
Dean wondered, Is this the first time he's felt? Anything? He took a steadying breath.
"Okay. I get it. I'm sorry. You were trying to be on the level with me. Share information. That's good. From now on, let's try using our words, 'kay? Instead of cryptic dreams and sending me into situations half-cocked?"
"I can try to use my words," Castiel acquiesced, "But I cannot promise anything, Dean. These are desperate times. The end of times. We are all fighting for our lives now."
Dean sighed, "I just don't think I am strong enough, really, I don't."
"God chose you, Dean. If he believes in you, what else do you need? He would not have chosen you if you were not fit for the task."
"I don't think it's that easy, Cas," Dean looked over at the angel.
"What did you call me now?" Castiel furrowed his brow.
"Uh… Humans shorten names, sometimes for convenience, sometimes for affection. Like, Sam's name is Samuel, but we call him Sam. Or Sammy."
"It's interesting that you remove the end of the word. The suffix 'el' means, 'of God, or by God.'"
"What does your name mean, then?" Am I actually having a conversation with Cas? About nicknames? Dean almost laughed to himself.
"My name means, 'covered by God'." Castiel looked off into the distance.
"Is it okay if I call you Cas?" It occurred to Dean that leaving the 'el' off his name could be blasphemous, not that Dean cared about blasphemy, but he figured it would be shitty to offend the angel after his tirade about not being rude.
Castiel's lips almost twitched up at the corners. "You seem to call me many things, so I suppose it doesn't matter which you choose above the others."
"Just don't call you late for dinner?" Dean smiled. Cas raised a quizzical brow.
"I will return to you when I can, Dean. I am sorry that I chose the way I did to inform you about Sam. But I meant what I said. If you cannot control your brother, I will have to. He is too dangerous to be allowed to continue as he is." The angel's face went from placid to deadly serious in the middle of his final sentence.
"I understand. I'll get him to cut out the extracurricular activities. Uh…" Dean wasn't quite comfortable yet with the idea of not hating the angel, but he agreed with him on this at least. "Thanks, Cas." He heard a noise like a murder of crows, and when he looked over, he was alone.
He sat a while, contemplating Sam's treachery. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got that he had to find out from an angel, and that his little brother had gotten so lost without him. Maybe he was really angry at himself for leaving, or at the demons for destroying their lives to begin with, but by the time he got back to the motel, it didn't matter who was really to blame, he was fucking pissed that Sam was the one lying to him.
Castiel received orders as soon as he returned home. Lilith was up to something. He followed her for a week, as she bought massive amounts of livestock and transported it somewhere mysterious. Finally, Cas was able to track her to Egypt. Uriel was assigned to go along with him, because he had been tracking Lilith's partner, and he knew which seal it was. They were to contact the garrison if it seemed more than they could handle.
Cas and Uriel blinked into existence on the edges of the Negev desert, near the Sinai-Negev erg. They quickly ducked behind a rocky outcropping and surveyed the chaos below them. Hundreds of lambs milled about, enclosed in fencing. There was an enormous crocodile, bigger than any that had walked the earth since the dawn of humankind, sunning itself in another enclosure. Demons patrolled both fence lines, which were separated only by a narrow strip of desert. Several dozen humans toiled under the burning sun, building an enormous clay statue of a horrible beast. There was a red pavilion off to the side of the construction, surrounded by dead bodies that looked like other workers that had passed out from the heat and dehydration and then died.
"They will raise the False Prophet, and will sacrifice six hundred and sixty six lambs to Sobek, who shall raise the Beast and give him power. Sobek commanded the humans to create a false idol, and this idol shall be given power to destroy all those who do not worship him. There are three seals here, Castiel, we cannot fail. Each time we fight, we lose another inch of ground. That ends today," Uriel whispered, "I will go around to the other side, and slay Sobek. You get into the pavilion, and stop Lilith from raising the False Prophet. Hopefully, we can prevent the beast from ever rising."
Castiel nodded, and Uriel vanished. Castiel flew silently down, invisible to the demons and crouched by the pavilion. Inside, he heard Lilith's child-voice chanting in song. He peered inside and saw a small Egyptian girl, hands outstretched over a pile of bones, bathed in blood. As he watched, the bones began to glow, and he raised his sword, ready to strike. Suddenly, there was a horrible pain radiating from his chest, his sword fell from numb fingers, and Castiel looked down to see the curved end of an enormous khopesh, an Egyptian sickle, protruding from his chest. He pulled himself forward and whirled around, the blade still stuck through his body as he faced the demon that had run him through.
"Well, well, well. Look who it is. Dean Winchester's new boyfriend, the angel of the lord, his holiness, Castiel," The slippery voice slid from the giant Israeli man's lips like sarcasm-laced oil, "When you're taking your pleasure in his firm, human flesh, remember this. I had him first."
Castiel reached behind himself, attempting to pull the blade out. The pain in his chest was increasing.
"Wh-what-" he stammered out, and the demon laughed.
"I'm Alistair. We met in the Pit, briefly. I haven't had the pleasure yet, of gutting you, but I assure you, that's next," Alistair drew a second, smaller khopesh from the sheath at his side, "Do you like my blades? They're not as fun as the ones I used on Dean, but they get the job done. They belonged to Ptolemy, the Avenger of Baq-t. They won't kill an angel, oh no, but they'll slow you down, steal your Grace away for long enough."
Behind him, Castiel heard a low rumbling as Lilith finished chanting. Alistair seized upon the distraction, and threw the second khopesh. It entered Castiel's stomach, and he fell to his knees.
He heard a ragged breath drawn from behind him, and twisted on the sand to see a naked black man where the bones had been.
"What the hell?" the man gasped.
"Gordon Walker," Lilith acknowledged the man with a nod, "I am Lilith. We have raised you from the Pit, and we have much work for you to do. Come," she held out her tiny hand, and led the man from the pavilion, past Castiel's twitching body. Alistair laughed.
"The False Prophet. So fitting, isn't it? Gordon always thought he was the Messiah. He's going to take special pleasure in killing your boy, you know. Somehow, I think he's going to really enjoy what we have planned for Sam, now that Gordon's served his time in the Pit. He really came around to my way of thinking, you know?" Alistair reached down, and dragged the larger khopesh through the front of Castiel's chest, "And now, I have his special blade. It's really lovely that you decided to come, Castiel. The False Prophet needed a weapon anointed with an angel's blood to do his work."
Castiel was unable to move, the magic of the second khopesh sapping his Grace. All he could do was watch in agony as Alistair opened the gates and allowed Sobek to lazily saunter into the panicking herd of lambs. Then Alistair vanished. Cas could see three figures appear up on the rocky outcropping he and Uriel had crouched behind earlier.
Where is Uriel? he thought wildly, and tried to stand. He failed. He lay, panting on the sand, as Sobek consumed lambs by the dozen, snapping their bones with his giant teeth, soaking the sand with their blood. The earth began to shake beneath them all, and the sky began to turn as red as the sand.
Castiel could feel the last of his power about to fade, and suddenly, he thought of the white soul he had dragged from the Pit. He could almost see Dean's green eyes looking into his heart, and then he thought for a second he could hear Dean's rough voice, low and commanding in his ears.
"Kick it in the ass, Cas. I believe in you."
With his last shred of strength, Castiel reached up and dragged the khopesh from his gut. As he staggered to his feet, Uriel appeared next to him.
"I failed, they ambushed me. I only fought them off now. The rest of the garrison isn't responding," Uriel said, and then took in the sight of Cas's bleeding torso. He laid two fingers on Cas's brow, and his wounds were healed instantly, his Grace restored. "What happened?"
"I failed as well. They raised the False Prophet." Something burning whizzed down past the angels. They looked up, and saw fire begin to stream down from the reddened sky.
"There!" Uriel pointed out to where Sobek had slaughtered the last of the lambs, and now lay bloated on the pile of carcasses. In front of the terrible crocodile, the ground split open. A great paw, black and clawed, reached up out of the hole, and Castiel felt something he thought might be fear well up inside of him as the rest of the Beast emerged from the crack in the earth.
It was terrible, mighty, and horrifying. It had seven heads, all lizard like, with great curled horns rising between them. Each mouth was full of lion's fangs, and its body was feline, spotted black and red. One of the heads was crushed, and Sobek opened his jaws to let fire rush forth, engulfing the head. When the flames cleared, the Beast was healed and it rose up, enormous bat wings unfurling from its back. Then it bowed low before Sobek, who hissed at it.
He heard Dean's voice again in his head, "Okay, maybe not in the ass. Try the heart. Go. GO NOW!"
Castiel pushed off the ground, the smaller khopesh clutched in his hand. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, exactly, but he knew he had to do something before the Idol could be given power.
He blinked out of existence, re materializing on the rocks between Lilith and Alistair. Gordon stood with his back to them, all three focused on the Beast.
"You won't break all three seals, whore," he growled in Lilith's ear, and laid his hands on the foreheads of the demons. Light shone from their eyes, and the vessels collapsed, bleeding. Gordon turned at the noise, and Castiel tackled him, shoving the False Prophet down on the sand. Before he could react, Cas stabbed Gordon in the heart with the smaller khopesh, jerked it up to ensure the end of the False Prophet. Gordon's eyes widened in shock, and he choked as blood filled his mouth. Cas took the enormous khopesh and he flew as fast as he could, even faster than when he had saved Dean, and banked abruptly down and around the Beast, landing on its back. He stuck the khopesh down into its side, where he thought the heart might be, shoving his entire arm into the body of the creature, shoulder deep. Acidic black blood oozed up, and Beast lest out an agonizing, ear shattering roar. Cas withdrew his arm, leaving the blade in the Beast. Cas pushed himself up, and flew up above the battlefield.
The Beast fell, writhing, back into the crevasse, his claws reaching out and catching Sobek, dragging the crocodile with it back into the Pit. The crack in the Earth closed over the monster bodies, and the sky ceased to rain fire and began to clear. Castiel flew down to the bloody sand, his vessel winded, almost in shock that he had seamlessly ended the Rise of the Beast.
Uriel still stood where Castiel had left him, motionless. When he saw that the battle was over, he vanished and reappeared next to Cas.
"I'm sorry, Castiel. I was… I didn't know what you planned, or I would have helped."
"I didn't know myself," Castiel said simply. They stayed, keeping a silent vigil until night fell over the desert, and they were certain that it was over.
In Heaven, Castiel received much praise form his superiors, and he was surprised to be put in charge of the garrison, replacing Uriel. Apparently, they had never heard Uriel's request for assistance.
"You have a better head for dealing with the Winchesters," Zachariah told him, "And Uriel has more particular skills. You'll be a good leader, you can keep Uriel in line."
Castiel wasn't entirely comfortable with his new role. He was used to serving with Uriel under Haniel, but she had fallen decades ago, and her garrison split. After his new garrison had been killed, he didn't enjoy Uriel's company as much. He thought to himself, it is perhaps unwise of Zachariah to place me in charge of one formerly my superior. But as God wills, so I shall act.
They had just killed the Dracula shape shifter, and that night, Dean had the weirdest dream of his life up to that point.
It started out a nightmare. He saw Castiel, lying on the ground in a vast sea of sand, impaled, and he watched the angel watch a giant Crocodile slaughter lambs. He cried out to Cas, and saw him drag the blade out of his chest. Dean's attention was then captured by the enormous monster he saw rising from the ground, and he modified his previous encouragement. He saw Cas lift off the ground, could almost see the dark shape of wings driving him up, and then he was no longer watching the desert scene.
He walked down an endless hallway, dark and stinking of blood and vomit. There was a dark figure somewhere ahead of him, and he felt like he had been walking for years, trying to reach it. He finally broke into a run, almost slipping in the excrement coating the floor. Then he was there, and he could see that the figure was Sam, his back to Dean, crouching over a corpse. Sam whirled around, eyes wide and dark, face smeared in blood. He spoke, black smoke pouring from his free hand, sliding towards Dean as the words left Sam's lips, "This is my choice." He held a gnawed human leg in his other hand.
Dean backed away in horror, "No, Sammy," he choked out, voice cracking, "Not the long pig!"
Sam advanced on him, and suddenly everything went black.
He opened his eyes, now laying horizontal on what was possibly the best bed ever, white and impossibly soft, and surrounded by drifting cloudy veils.
Jamie, the bar maid, was draped over him, purring in his ear. "You saved my life, you know," she whispered, and nipped his lobe slightly. She pulled back and he was looking into Lisa's eyes, the one woman to whom his thoughts always wandered to when he was feeling particularly sappy and sentimental.
"We miss you. Come home." Dean reached up to touch her cheek and blue eyes suddenly stared back at him. Castiel was now straddling him.
"Good things do happen, Dean. You don't believe you deserve to be saved?" Cas leaned forward and kissed Dean on the mouth. It was warm, and soft, so much softer than Dean thought kissing a man should be, and the angel's tongue delicately parted Dean's lips and caressed Dean's tongue. It felt like a bolt of lightening shot down his spine, straight to his dick. A perfect kiss.
Dean woke up, rock hard and feeling decidedly disturbed. "Huh." he said to himself, and got up to jump in an icy shower, think about naked, female nurses and cheerleaders to reassert his heterosexuality, and push his Sammy issues as far out of his mind as mentally possible.
Chapter Three: http://ninjapsammead.livejournal.com/4863.html