Unexpected Destinies Chapter 49
Title: Unexpected Destinies
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 2,782
Summary: While on a hunt, Dean's instincts start to act up big time.
PAST
Dean stood in the shadows of the forest, eyes narrowed as he observed the old abandoned house illuminated by the light of the full moon. His every instinct was screaming at him that something wasn't right here; that something was very, very wrong. If there had been flashing lights and a blaring siren, his instincts would still have drowned it all out, that was how bad he felt about this situation and he wasn't one to ignore his instincts at the best of times.
The hunt had started out simple enough and seemed straightforward. Maybe a little too straightforward now that he thought about it, Dean mused. The article in the paper had instantly caught his eye despite the lack of casualties and all but screamed poltergeist to him. All of his follow-up research had seemed to confirm this, eyewitness reports about an apparently haunted old house where the impossible happened but was written off by the authorities as the drunken antics of teenagers who'd snuck out at night where they shouldn't have.
And just how often was any case he worked that easy? Dean could almost count on both his hands the number of times he'd had hunts that were so straightforward and obvious to solve that he went from reading about them to being prepared to gank the little sucker in under twenty-four hours. Which brought up another point. Just how often did a hunt just happen to be in the next town over from where he was at the time of learning about it?
No, something was definitely not right here, but Dean just wasn't immediately sure what it was. The more he pondered it, though, the more he had the distinct impression that he was being lured into a trap here. That he was the one who was being hunted, but by something that was too afraid to come at him directly and was thus trying to do so from behind while he was occupied with the illusion in front of him. He wasn't sure what made him think of that in the first place, but all of the pieces definitely seemed to fit that scenario. The fact that the hunt just so happened to be nearby, the fact that he could immediately tell from the newspaper story that it was his type of case, the fact that no one had really died, the fact that this house was all the way out here in the woods, perfectly isolated from anyone who might happen to overhear something and foolishly rush in to help or run to call the cops.
The one thing Dean didn't have the first clue about, though, was who or what he was dealing with here. Given his line of work, the list was long and varied, but nobody immediately sprang to mind and that bothered him. Nothing about the pattern thus far gave him any potential leads and while he wanted to just rush on in and find out, he knew that to do so could be lethal. Despite what many people thought, John Winchester hadn't raised fools and Dean didn't always rush in blindly. Especially not when there was nothing at stake. No one was missing or hurt, so he could take all the time he wanted, even waiting out here until his would be attackers figured he wasn't coming and gave up.
He could do that, if he had the patience for it. Thing was, though, Dean didn't possess a ton of that particular virtue at the best of times and just now his levels were particularly low. This hunt was supposed to be a reprieve, damnit! Just a quick little break from researching before he literally hit the books again, not some massively involved affair that took a ton of time. He'd just needed a breather before he started climbing the walls out of sheer boredom. Tempting as it was to use this as an excuse to prolong his break, he could all but hear an invisible clock ticking down and it reminded him far too much of those last few months before Hell for his comfort and peace of mind.
Well, if he couldn't go in alone and he wouldn't wait out here, then he'd just have to shift the odds in his favor.
"Dean," Castiel said, picking up on the first ring.
"Hey, Cas. Do you have a minute or are you busy just now? I've got a situation and could use your help."
The flutter of wings behind him had Dean turning around even as he put away his cell. It was nice that he now no longer had to rattle off his location every time he wanted his lover to join him, but in cases like this it was particularly helpful as he'd left the last road sign a ways back.
Castiel looked surprised upon appearing before him and Dean frowned. "Something wrong, Cas?"
"You knew exactly where to look to see me arrive."
"Well, yeah."
"How did you know?"
Dean's eyebrows raised as he tried to figure out why this was an issue. "I know how tall you are, Cas."
"No, I meant where I would appear."
"Oh, well, I heard your wings behind me," Dean explained and felt the bottom of his stomach drop out at the slight widening of his lover's eyes. "Shit, let me guess, I'm not supposed to be able to do that, right?"
"No, Dean, you are not. My wings are a manifestation of my Grace and are thus on a different plane of existence from my vessel or yourself. Therefore they, and all aspects of them, should be beyond your abilities to perceive, be it visual or auditory."
"Well that's just dandy!"
"You cannot see them, right?"
There was a foreign note in Castiel's voice as he asked this and it made Dean pause, trying to figure out what it was but failing to do so. He filed it away for further contemplation when he had the time- yeah, right!- though it bugged him that he couldn't immediately decipher something about his angel. It had been far too long since that had last happened and made him feel some of the distance that remained between them and on some level always would simply by nature of the fact that they were different... hell, what was the right word anyway? Species? Creatures? Beings?
Crap, classification had never been his thing anyway, but even if Dean couldn't put it into words, he could still feel that distance and it bothered him. He couldn't even see Castiel's true form for God's sake! What the hell did that say for their relationship chances anyway? He had a brief vision of himself and his lover on Dr. Phil's show before he shoved it aside, far too uncomfortable with the whole issue to dwell on it any longer.
"No, I can only hear them," Dean replied.
"Were you always able to do so?"
"Huh?"
"You used to startle quite badly when I flew to your side, but now you no longer do."
That was a good point. Dean bit his bottom lip as he tried to remember. "No, now that you mention it, I don't think I used to be able to hear you coming. But I can't remember just suddenly being able to do so either. I'd just always figured I'd gotten used to you popping in all over the damn place."
Castiel made a noncommittal noise, head tilted as he studied him closely and Dean fought the impulse to start shifting under that intense focus. It wasn't at all like when they were alone together somewhere private and things were about to get heated real fast. No, this was completely different and instead made him think of Michael and the scrutiny the archangel had subjected him to on more then one occasion as he tried to figure him out. It didn't make him uncomfortable exactly, he trusted his lover far too much for it to do that, but it did make him self-conscious in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. A surprisingly long time now that he actually thought about it. With Michael it had never made him feel that way as he'd always been far too angry or amused for it to edge into that and it was ironic that it was his angel that was now evoking the emotion within him after being the one to all but banish it in the first place.
"Well?" Dean finally demanded.
"I do not know, we will have to mention it to Michael, but I doubt he will know what it means either," Castiel replied before his lips quirked. "I am beginning to think that my brother is correct, you really are far more then you seem, even more so then I had always assumed."
Dean scowled at those words. "Dude!"
"And I too look forward to discovering exactly what Father intended when He created you."
"No, not cool, Cas, so not cool."
"Then how would you explain all of this, Dean?"
"I dunno, but that doesn't mean that this is all part of some larger destiny crap thingy!"
"No, of course not."
He narrowed his eyes at his lover, sure that he was being humored but Dean knew that he couldn't take it any further because if there was one thing Castiel was good at, it was talking him around in circles until he ended up saying or agreeing to something he totally didn't mean to.
"So," Castiel said, apparently having mercy on him. "What was it you required my help for?"
Glad for the distraction, Dean quickly filled him in on what he knew and his suspicions.
"You are right that there is nothing supernatural at work here," Castiel stated as he observed the house. "All I can detect is the presence of two humans, adult males if I am not mistaken, and they are filled with malice towards you."
"You can tell that?"
Castiel shrugged a little and Dean couldn't help but grin at that as he knew it was entirely due to his influence.
"I may be a little more sensitive with regards to matters that pertain to you," Castiel admitted.
"Aw," Dean teased with exaggeration to cover the way his heart leapt in his chest. "Cas, how romantic." And hey, the dark look his lover sent his way before returning his attention back to the abandoned house told Dean that he was finally starting to make progress on the sarcasm front as well. Sometimes he just loved being a bad influence. "Seriously, though, can you tell anything else?"
"No, not from here."
"Okay, so what you say we go turn their little trap around on them then?"
The look Castiel sent his way now would have made Dean cower a little inside if it had been on the face of any other angel. As it was, though, it simply made his traitorous heart trip within him once more as he recognized the mix of possessive anger and fierce protectiveness for what it was. How many times had he felt that way towards those who had meant to hurt his little brother? To have it there on someone's face for him was intoxicating in a startling way he'd never expected even as part of him took offense at the implication that he couldn't take care of himself.
"They will be expecting you to enter through one of the doors or windows in the normal human fashion."
"Yeah," Dean confirmed before he realized what his lover was saying and a wicked grin spread across his face. "Cas, I like the way you think!"
"Thank you."
With two fingers, Castiel transported them inside and Dean raised his shotgun as he scanned the room. Even though he was dealing with two humans instead of a poltergeist, he knew from personal experience how well salt rounds could knock someone on their ass for long enough for him or his angel to disarm them. Once he had the layout of the room, he turned back to his lover and followed behind him as Castiel led the way out of the room and through the house.
"I don't think he's coming," a horribly familiar voice drifted up to them followed by violent sneezing as they stepped through a doorway onto what had once been a landing overlooking the front entrance of the house.
From the shadows, Dean could look down and confirm what he already knew. The two people who had set this trap for him were none other than Roy and Walt. His fingers tightened on the shotgun as fury and pain shot through him. There mere memory of seeing his Sammy gunned down so violently and senselessly would have been enough to tear through him even without the echoes of what he'd felt at the time compounding everything. Yes, he may be so angry with his brother at the moment that he could hardly think of him, but that didn't mean anything just now. These two good for nothing hunters had broken into their room and slaughtered Sam without so much as giving him a chance to explain what had happened.
"Dean!"
Castiel's hissed tone was accompanied by a gentle but firm hand on his bicep and Dean tore his gaze from the two men arguing in heated whispers to his lover. The slightly worried expression on his angel's face slowly made him realize that his own features were twisted in fury and hate and he forced himself to relax somewhat before he did something stupid that he'd regret later. Although he wanted nothing more then to shoot Walt between the eyes- or even better, practice some of what he'd learned from Alistair on the guy first before putting him out of his misery- he had never killed a human in anything other then self-defense and he knew, really knew, that he'd regret it later if he allowed his rage to get the better of him now.
"You know them," Castiel stated.
"Yeah," Dean forced out in a whisper. He hesitated before continuing, not sure how his lover would react to knowing that these were the hunters that had snuck into his and Sam's motel room and slaughtered them. He couldn't think of a way around it though. "They're the ones that shot Sam and me that time we went to Heaven."
As he'd feared, Dean watched his lover's face twist into an enraged mask and it was his turn to clamp his hand down on Castiel's arm. There was no way that he'd allow his angel to do something that could get him into trouble with his brothers now, not after how far he'd come and how he'd taken command of the Host.
"I want to kill them," Castiel declared fiercely.
"Yeah, I know, me too," Dean admitted. "But you know we can't."
"Why not? They dared harm you."
"Because they're human, Cas. Come on, you know this."
"I do not have to like it."
"You and me both pal, you and me both."
Castiel had turned just enough to look back down at the unsuspecting duo and if looks could kill, Roy and Walt would be crispy critters right about now. Dean took solace in that fact even as he tried desperately to figure out what to do here. One or both of the hunters must obviously have spotted him while he'd gone about his business in the next town over and they'd decided to set up this little ploy to draw him in. The question was, what for? If he was honest with himself, he knew the reason, it would have been the same thing that he'd have done if he'd caught sight of someone he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, to be dead walking about.
Besides, even if Dean couldn't see the logic of why they were doing what they were now- even if he'd never be able to agree with what they had done before- he also knew that they simply couldn't afford to lose two damn fine hunters. Not now with everything going to hell in a hand basket. The supernatural world was in uproar with things that normally stuck to the dark venturing out into the light of day and they were hardly keeping up with things as it was. No, they needed all the hands they could get, but there was no way that he was letting them, and Walt in particular, away unscratched either.
"What do we do now then?" Castiel demanded.
Dean felt a predatory smile cross his face as something came to him. "I know just the thing."
A.N.: Well, so much for the Roy and Walt scene being a transition segment to the other bit I wanted to get to in this chapter. This is like so the story behind this fic, everything's taking longer and running away on me here! Oh well, it'll just have to be that for the next chapter.
Chapter 50
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 2,782
Summary: While on a hunt, Dean's instincts start to act up big time.
PAST
Dean stood in the shadows of the forest, eyes narrowed as he observed the old abandoned house illuminated by the light of the full moon. His every instinct was screaming at him that something wasn't right here; that something was very, very wrong. If there had been flashing lights and a blaring siren, his instincts would still have drowned it all out, that was how bad he felt about this situation and he wasn't one to ignore his instincts at the best of times.
The hunt had started out simple enough and seemed straightforward. Maybe a little too straightforward now that he thought about it, Dean mused. The article in the paper had instantly caught his eye despite the lack of casualties and all but screamed poltergeist to him. All of his follow-up research had seemed to confirm this, eyewitness reports about an apparently haunted old house where the impossible happened but was written off by the authorities as the drunken antics of teenagers who'd snuck out at night where they shouldn't have.
And just how often was any case he worked that easy? Dean could almost count on both his hands the number of times he'd had hunts that were so straightforward and obvious to solve that he went from reading about them to being prepared to gank the little sucker in under twenty-four hours. Which brought up another point. Just how often did a hunt just happen to be in the next town over from where he was at the time of learning about it?
No, something was definitely not right here, but Dean just wasn't immediately sure what it was. The more he pondered it, though, the more he had the distinct impression that he was being lured into a trap here. That he was the one who was being hunted, but by something that was too afraid to come at him directly and was thus trying to do so from behind while he was occupied with the illusion in front of him. He wasn't sure what made him think of that in the first place, but all of the pieces definitely seemed to fit that scenario. The fact that the hunt just so happened to be nearby, the fact that he could immediately tell from the newspaper story that it was his type of case, the fact that no one had really died, the fact that this house was all the way out here in the woods, perfectly isolated from anyone who might happen to overhear something and foolishly rush in to help or run to call the cops.
The one thing Dean didn't have the first clue about, though, was who or what he was dealing with here. Given his line of work, the list was long and varied, but nobody immediately sprang to mind and that bothered him. Nothing about the pattern thus far gave him any potential leads and while he wanted to just rush on in and find out, he knew that to do so could be lethal. Despite what many people thought, John Winchester hadn't raised fools and Dean didn't always rush in blindly. Especially not when there was nothing at stake. No one was missing or hurt, so he could take all the time he wanted, even waiting out here until his would be attackers figured he wasn't coming and gave up.
He could do that, if he had the patience for it. Thing was, though, Dean didn't possess a ton of that particular virtue at the best of times and just now his levels were particularly low. This hunt was supposed to be a reprieve, damnit! Just a quick little break from researching before he literally hit the books again, not some massively involved affair that took a ton of time. He'd just needed a breather before he started climbing the walls out of sheer boredom. Tempting as it was to use this as an excuse to prolong his break, he could all but hear an invisible clock ticking down and it reminded him far too much of those last few months before Hell for his comfort and peace of mind.
Well, if he couldn't go in alone and he wouldn't wait out here, then he'd just have to shift the odds in his favor.
"Dean," Castiel said, picking up on the first ring.
"Hey, Cas. Do you have a minute or are you busy just now? I've got a situation and could use your help."
The flutter of wings behind him had Dean turning around even as he put away his cell. It was nice that he now no longer had to rattle off his location every time he wanted his lover to join him, but in cases like this it was particularly helpful as he'd left the last road sign a ways back.
Castiel looked surprised upon appearing before him and Dean frowned. "Something wrong, Cas?"
"You knew exactly where to look to see me arrive."
"Well, yeah."
"How did you know?"
Dean's eyebrows raised as he tried to figure out why this was an issue. "I know how tall you are, Cas."
"No, I meant where I would appear."
"Oh, well, I heard your wings behind me," Dean explained and felt the bottom of his stomach drop out at the slight widening of his lover's eyes. "Shit, let me guess, I'm not supposed to be able to do that, right?"
"No, Dean, you are not. My wings are a manifestation of my Grace and are thus on a different plane of existence from my vessel or yourself. Therefore they, and all aspects of them, should be beyond your abilities to perceive, be it visual or auditory."
"Well that's just dandy!"
"You cannot see them, right?"
There was a foreign note in Castiel's voice as he asked this and it made Dean pause, trying to figure out what it was but failing to do so. He filed it away for further contemplation when he had the time- yeah, right!- though it bugged him that he couldn't immediately decipher something about his angel. It had been far too long since that had last happened and made him feel some of the distance that remained between them and on some level always would simply by nature of the fact that they were different... hell, what was the right word anyway? Species? Creatures? Beings?
Crap, classification had never been his thing anyway, but even if Dean couldn't put it into words, he could still feel that distance and it bothered him. He couldn't even see Castiel's true form for God's sake! What the hell did that say for their relationship chances anyway? He had a brief vision of himself and his lover on Dr. Phil's show before he shoved it aside, far too uncomfortable with the whole issue to dwell on it any longer.
"No, I can only hear them," Dean replied.
"Were you always able to do so?"
"Huh?"
"You used to startle quite badly when I flew to your side, but now you no longer do."
That was a good point. Dean bit his bottom lip as he tried to remember. "No, now that you mention it, I don't think I used to be able to hear you coming. But I can't remember just suddenly being able to do so either. I'd just always figured I'd gotten used to you popping in all over the damn place."
Castiel made a noncommittal noise, head tilted as he studied him closely and Dean fought the impulse to start shifting under that intense focus. It wasn't at all like when they were alone together somewhere private and things were about to get heated real fast. No, this was completely different and instead made him think of Michael and the scrutiny the archangel had subjected him to on more then one occasion as he tried to figure him out. It didn't make him uncomfortable exactly, he trusted his lover far too much for it to do that, but it did make him self-conscious in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. A surprisingly long time now that he actually thought about it. With Michael it had never made him feel that way as he'd always been far too angry or amused for it to edge into that and it was ironic that it was his angel that was now evoking the emotion within him after being the one to all but banish it in the first place.
"Well?" Dean finally demanded.
"I do not know, we will have to mention it to Michael, but I doubt he will know what it means either," Castiel replied before his lips quirked. "I am beginning to think that my brother is correct, you really are far more then you seem, even more so then I had always assumed."
Dean scowled at those words. "Dude!"
"And I too look forward to discovering exactly what Father intended when He created you."
"No, not cool, Cas, so not cool."
"Then how would you explain all of this, Dean?"
"I dunno, but that doesn't mean that this is all part of some larger destiny crap thingy!"
"No, of course not."
He narrowed his eyes at his lover, sure that he was being humored but Dean knew that he couldn't take it any further because if there was one thing Castiel was good at, it was talking him around in circles until he ended up saying or agreeing to something he totally didn't mean to.
"So," Castiel said, apparently having mercy on him. "What was it you required my help for?"
Glad for the distraction, Dean quickly filled him in on what he knew and his suspicions.
"You are right that there is nothing supernatural at work here," Castiel stated as he observed the house. "All I can detect is the presence of two humans, adult males if I am not mistaken, and they are filled with malice towards you."
"You can tell that?"
Castiel shrugged a little and Dean couldn't help but grin at that as he knew it was entirely due to his influence.
"I may be a little more sensitive with regards to matters that pertain to you," Castiel admitted.
"Aw," Dean teased with exaggeration to cover the way his heart leapt in his chest. "Cas, how romantic." And hey, the dark look his lover sent his way before returning his attention back to the abandoned house told Dean that he was finally starting to make progress on the sarcasm front as well. Sometimes he just loved being a bad influence. "Seriously, though, can you tell anything else?"
"No, not from here."
"Okay, so what you say we go turn their little trap around on them then?"
The look Castiel sent his way now would have made Dean cower a little inside if it had been on the face of any other angel. As it was, though, it simply made his traitorous heart trip within him once more as he recognized the mix of possessive anger and fierce protectiveness for what it was. How many times had he felt that way towards those who had meant to hurt his little brother? To have it there on someone's face for him was intoxicating in a startling way he'd never expected even as part of him took offense at the implication that he couldn't take care of himself.
"They will be expecting you to enter through one of the doors or windows in the normal human fashion."
"Yeah," Dean confirmed before he realized what his lover was saying and a wicked grin spread across his face. "Cas, I like the way you think!"
"Thank you."
With two fingers, Castiel transported them inside and Dean raised his shotgun as he scanned the room. Even though he was dealing with two humans instead of a poltergeist, he knew from personal experience how well salt rounds could knock someone on their ass for long enough for him or his angel to disarm them. Once he had the layout of the room, he turned back to his lover and followed behind him as Castiel led the way out of the room and through the house.
"I don't think he's coming," a horribly familiar voice drifted up to them followed by violent sneezing as they stepped through a doorway onto what had once been a landing overlooking the front entrance of the house.
From the shadows, Dean could look down and confirm what he already knew. The two people who had set this trap for him were none other than Roy and Walt. His fingers tightened on the shotgun as fury and pain shot through him. There mere memory of seeing his Sammy gunned down so violently and senselessly would have been enough to tear through him even without the echoes of what he'd felt at the time compounding everything. Yes, he may be so angry with his brother at the moment that he could hardly think of him, but that didn't mean anything just now. These two good for nothing hunters had broken into their room and slaughtered Sam without so much as giving him a chance to explain what had happened.
"Dean!"
Castiel's hissed tone was accompanied by a gentle but firm hand on his bicep and Dean tore his gaze from the two men arguing in heated whispers to his lover. The slightly worried expression on his angel's face slowly made him realize that his own features were twisted in fury and hate and he forced himself to relax somewhat before he did something stupid that he'd regret later. Although he wanted nothing more then to shoot Walt between the eyes- or even better, practice some of what he'd learned from Alistair on the guy first before putting him out of his misery- he had never killed a human in anything other then self-defense and he knew, really knew, that he'd regret it later if he allowed his rage to get the better of him now.
"You know them," Castiel stated.
"Yeah," Dean forced out in a whisper. He hesitated before continuing, not sure how his lover would react to knowing that these were the hunters that had snuck into his and Sam's motel room and slaughtered them. He couldn't think of a way around it though. "They're the ones that shot Sam and me that time we went to Heaven."
As he'd feared, Dean watched his lover's face twist into an enraged mask and it was his turn to clamp his hand down on Castiel's arm. There was no way that he'd allow his angel to do something that could get him into trouble with his brothers now, not after how far he'd come and how he'd taken command of the Host.
"I want to kill them," Castiel declared fiercely.
"Yeah, I know, me too," Dean admitted. "But you know we can't."
"Why not? They dared harm you."
"Because they're human, Cas. Come on, you know this."
"I do not have to like it."
"You and me both pal, you and me both."
Castiel had turned just enough to look back down at the unsuspecting duo and if looks could kill, Roy and Walt would be crispy critters right about now. Dean took solace in that fact even as he tried desperately to figure out what to do here. One or both of the hunters must obviously have spotted him while he'd gone about his business in the next town over and they'd decided to set up this little ploy to draw him in. The question was, what for? If he was honest with himself, he knew the reason, it would have been the same thing that he'd have done if he'd caught sight of someone he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, to be dead walking about.
Besides, even if Dean couldn't see the logic of why they were doing what they were now- even if he'd never be able to agree with what they had done before- he also knew that they simply couldn't afford to lose two damn fine hunters. Not now with everything going to hell in a hand basket. The supernatural world was in uproar with things that normally stuck to the dark venturing out into the light of day and they were hardly keeping up with things as it was. No, they needed all the hands they could get, but there was no way that he was letting them, and Walt in particular, away unscratched either.
"What do we do now then?" Castiel demanded.
Dean felt a predatory smile cross his face as something came to him. "I know just the thing."
A.N.: Well, so much for the Roy and Walt scene being a transition segment to the other bit I wanted to get to in this chapter. This is like so the story behind this fic, everything's taking longer and running away on me here! Oh well, it'll just have to be that for the next chapter.
Chapter 50