Under Siege (Part Four), Supernatural, NC-17 (for theme)
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Under Siege (Part Four--I'll get an index up soon)
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, John, Balthazar (some mild Sam/Castiel)
Word Count: 4562
Rating: NC-17 (for theme)
Summary: Near the end of Season Six, after "The Man Who Would Be King"...Castiel has not been seen or heard from since his last conversation with Dean at Bobby's. Time marches on without him and Sam and Dean keep hunting. One night Sam wakes to sounds he can't place and Balthazar appears, leaving a very wounded, unresponsive & comatose Castiel in their care before he disappears. Thus begins a mystery that will stretch the already thin resources of the Winchester boys to their limits...and may break more than one of them before the end.
A/Ns & Warnings: This is a fic that ate my brain, continues to eat my brain. It is partially the fault of varkelton and the conversation begun at her house. Fair warning that the topic of that conversation was what situations either of us could conceivably actually slash Castiel with either of the boys....so while this has not yet gone to a slashy place, it very well may andso, it has begun inching toward the slashy place, though this part includes only very minor kissing....it may ultimately include Dean/Castiel, Sam/Castiel and quite possibly Dean/Castiel/Sam...consider yourself warned. As to warnings for this part? Much Castiel whumpage (including implied sexual assault, which it should be said is implied to include non-con bestiality of a sort). Mind fuckery. Implied and partially remembered violence.
Dean stormed up the stairs to see what it was his father was yelling about. It was obvious almost immediately. The black siege that had trapped them for the last forty eight hours had withdrawn some.
Outside the windows he could see people moving through the dark haze.
"They started showing up right after you went downstairs." John said as Dean joined him near the front door. "The first couple threw themselves at the windows, but they've fallen back now."
Dean nodded, watching them mill about listlessly. "Eventually they'll start throwing themselves at us, hoping to break through somewhere."
"Sounds like you've been through this before." John said.
Dean looked at him. "Unfortunately, more than once." He huffed and turned to Bobby. "Check the back, make sure we don't have any week spots."
"So what is our plan here?"
His father was sounding more like himself and Dean wasn't really sure if that was a good thing or not. "Well, I figure we're stuck dealing with Crowley for now. He's predictable to a degree. We know what he wants and why."
"Right, the angel."
Dean nodded. "See, when Sam sent Lucifer back into his cage, and we had killed most of the other high level demons, Crowley stepped in to take over hell. But now that Lucifer is back on the loose, Crowley doesn't want to relinquish the title."
John frowned at him. "How does the angel help him?"
"Not sure he can, but Crowley seems to think he can. He thinks Castiel has the key to opening a door into Purgatory."
"We're set, all the traps are intact." Bobby said coming back.
Dean nodded. Balthazar wasn’t entirely wrong, of course. They would be better getting the hell out, but he couldn’t see a clean way of doing that. Not without sacrificing Castiel…and while Dean was still angry with the bastard for the lying and spying, there was no way he was going to turn him over for what would likely be even worse torture than Castiel had already been through.
And it was clear Castiel had been through a lot. Three months he’d been gone. Maybe more. Nearly as long as Dean had been in the pit. He swallowed at the rising bile, memory spilling out of the dark place he’d kept it hidden.
Screams tear from his throat as nails rake over his skin, carving into flesh and muscle, peeling it back from the bone. Fingers of flame curl around his cock, licking at his balls as something large fucks into his ass and his face is torn open by tiny teeth…
“Dean.” Bobby’s voice cracks through the memory and Dean exhales, nodding shakily. His hand snakes to his back pocket, pulling the flask out and tipping it into his mouth.
The burn is almost enough to anchor him, to hold him to the moment.
“So, we have the sword that can kill Lucifer.” Bobby said. “How does that help us?”
Dean stuck the flask back in his pocket and shook his head. “Unless we also have Lucifer, in a physical body, it doesn’t.”
“You gotta figure he’s going to find someone, like last time, if he can’t find Sam.”
“I’m not sure I understand this whole angel thing.” John said. “What does Lucifer need with Sam?”
Dean sighed. “Sam is his vessel. It has something to do with bloodlines. I don’t know that I’ve ever gotten the whole story, but I’m Michael’s vessel…or I was until they went and resurrected Adam, and you were before me. I guess that means…Sam gets it from Mom’s side? I don’t know.”
He collapsed into the chair and rubbed over his face. “He can occupy other bodies, if they agree, but they won’t hold him forever….not like Sam can.”
“And since Sam already said yes once, Lucifer can just climb back inside him?” John asked.
“Not sure, but I don’t really want to take a chance." Dean replied. "We're flying a little more blind than usual here."
"So they possess you, like demons do?" His father was frowning, looking intently at Dean.
"Something like, yeah."
"So…Castiel…the guy downstairs with Sam…"
"He's inside a guy named Jimmy, only…Jimmy left a while ago. Now it's just Castiel in there." Dean said. He hadn't given it much thought in a long time. "And before you let it get under your skin, angel's have to get permission. Jimmy chose to let Castiel in, even when he knew it would be a permanent thing."
John nodded slowly, clearly processing the information. "And Castiel is the one who pulled me out of hell?"
He sighed and looked up at his father. "According to Castiel, his intention when he found out Crowley had you was to pull you out and take you upstairs. He didn't even know you'd gotten out. Which doesn't help us, but I don't think we need to worry about anyone laying claim to you. Alistair is dead, Lilith is dead, that yellow-eyed son of a bitch is dead."
John actually smiled then. "I can see you've been busy."
Dean chuckled darkly. "You could say that. It's been a hell of a couple of years Dad."
"Not to interrupt the memory lane visit," Bobby said. "We do have a little demon problem to deal with."
Dean stood and crossed to the window. "Any ideas here?"
"Balthazar was right, even with the angel wards and devil's traps, we might as well have a target painted on us." Bobby said, crossing his arms. "I have an idea that should get us to the cars, but doesn't help us know where we're going."
"Away." Dean said. He didn't like running away from things. He didn't mind running, but he was happier when the target was ahead of him, not on his back. "Until we can figure out a plan of attack."
"Is that wise?" John asked, clearly uneasy. "We are safe here, to a degree."
"Until they wear us down." Bobby answered, crossing to his desk. "And they will."
As if on cue, one of the demon possessed outside threw themselves at a window. The glass broke and it got part way inside before the salt started to burn. Bobby grabbed it and hauled it into the devil's trap at the base of the window, already chanting the Latin required to release the demon.
A few minutes later, the black inky smoke raced back out the window, screaming. Bobby stood back and looked at Dean. "You take Sam and Castiel. I'll take your father."
Dean nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay." He pulled his father away from the window. "You should see Sam. Before we leave. Just…don't pick a fight."
He opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but Dean just held up a finger and shook his head. "You good for a few, Bobby?"
"Yeah, just make it fast."
Castiel had stopped shaking, but he was still upset, still leaning into Sam. They had withdrawn to the back of the room, away from the door. Sam sat with his back against the wall. Castiel was beside him, though his back was to Sam, his head on Sam's shoulder.
Sam's hand was around Castiel's waist, mostly for a lack of anywhere else to put it that wasn't awkward or painful. Castiel held the upper part of Sam's arm as though it were a safety line, something to keep him from floating away. The grip was too tight, and he was going to leave bruises, but Sam didn't have it in him to tell Castiel to let go.
The sword lay on the cot, shining like some promise. Promises made Sam worry. They had thought they could kill Lucifer before. The colt hadn't even made a dent. They had thought they could cage him. And now he was free again.
He sighed and tried to imagine a scenario that wouldn't end up with all of them dead. Or worse.
The problem was, the only way the sword did them any good was if Lucifer was inside a body, and Castiel was together enough to use it…before Lucifer stopped him.
And so far, Sam could think of only one way for that to happen.
The door to the panic room opened again. Castiel whimpered and turned his face further. "Shh." Sam whispered, easing his arm free and getting up. He swallowed a lump of emotion as his father filled the doorway. "Dad."
There was a moment's hesitation, then Sam was around the cot and pulling his father into a hug. His eyes closed as his father's arms wrapped around him. "Sam."
Eventually, Sam knew, he was going to have to let go…but for the moment he clung to his father, hiding in the moment, pretending he was twelve again and just having his father there was enough to make everything okay.
John patted his back and Sam took the cue, sniffling a little and stepping back. "Damn, it's good to see you." Sam said.
"You're looking a little rough around the edges there, Sammy."
Sam looked his father over. He was smaller somehow than Sam remembered, thinner and paler. “You too.”
“A couple of tours of hell will take it out of you.” John replied, though he smiled a little. His eyes darted to Castiel, then back. “Something I hear we have in common.”
Sam shrugged a little. “Winchester family tradition, I guess. Goes right up there with sacrificing ourselves and making deals with demons. And apparently resurrection.”
“So I hear.” John moved away, circling the room, his eyes scanning the workmanship Bobby had put into it. “It’s funny, the things I remember and what I don’t.” He shook his head. “I remember the feeling of your mother’s lips on mine, the sound you made when you were hungry as a baby, the time Dean broke his leg in Des Moines. I remember arguing with you about Stanford.”
Sam could feel his eyes, but couldn’t seem to look up. This was where his father would tell him what a disappointment he was, how he’d tarnished the family name. Tears burned in the corner of his eyes. “Dad, I-“
“I remember how damn proud I was, but for the life of me I can’t remember why I couldn’t tell you that. Too damn stubborn I guess.”
Sam looked up, the tear falling in his surprise. “You…what?”
John shook his head. “I remember how proud I was of you right before I died too. You…I don’t really remember all the details…but you saved your brother and me…you…I didn’t tell you then either. I was too busy buying you and Dean time.”
Sam’s stomach twisted and he shook his head, turning away from his father. “For all the good it did. I…became a monster.” He didn’t deserve his father’s pride.
”Dirty, filthy blood-sucking freak.” The words cut into him, even though he knew they weren’t really coming from his father. Sam held his stomach and moved away.
“Sam?”
“No.” He closed his eyes, trying to push the thought away. "You know you deserve this, Sammy. You were made for this. You were born for this.
"Dean…." Sam staggered toward the open door of the room, even though his brother's name was barely above a whisper. "Dean…" Something inside him was breaking…he could feel it. "Dean!"
Sam's knees gave and he crashed to the floor, clutching at his chest. His lungs were screaming for air that he couldn't seem to get into them. He flailed as hands grabbed at him, unable to tell the real ones from the memories spilling into his head…suffocating him, pressing into him, bleeding him.
"That's it Sammy…let me in…I'm coming for you….just let it all out…remember everything we did together…"
"Sam!"
A wall slammed up suddenly and air rushed into him. Sam gasped, his eyes opening. He half expected to find Lucifer staring down at him instead of Dean and his father. "Dean?" Sam struggled to sit up, grabbing at Dean's hand. "What happened?"
Dean pulled him up to his feet, shaking his head. "I don't know. You tell me."
"We were….just talking." Sam said. "And…I heard…in my head, it was…like in my dreams…D-dad's voice…only it wasn't him…and the wall sort of…cracked…I couldn't breathe, and Lucifer was…" He looked up at Dean. "He's close. He's got to be close."
"Okay, calm down." Dean pressed his lips together and shook his head. "It's better now though?"
Sam looked at the closed door and nodded. "Yeah. He's gone again."
"Shit." Dean paced, scratching at the back of his head. "There goes that plan. If he's close enough that it only takes opening that door, we'll never get you out of here and behind another set of sigils fast enough."
"I only left the door open a few minutes." John said, frowning.
"It's not your fault." Dean said. "We just need a different plan." He looked Sam over. "You sure you're okay?"
Sam was still shaky, but he nodded. "Yeah."
"Okay, stay here. I'll be back when I've figure out what we're going to do."
"What does he mean, my voice?" John asked as he followed Dean up the stairs.
Dean wasn't answering though, he was too busy cursing under his breath. "Dean."
John grabbed his shoulder once they were in the kitchen, turning him around. "What did he mean?"
Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. "Look…just…he knows it wasn't you, the same way I know it wasn't you. But…Lucifer in particular liked to borrow the face and voices of people to torment him. He did it in his dreams before Sam said yes. I can only imagine he did it once they were in the cage."
John shuddered and turned away. Alistair had tried that only once, coming to him as Mary. John had ignored him more than usual and he'd abandoned the attempt in favor of more physical methods of torture that made him scream until his throat collapsed.
He was struggling to catch up on three years of time he'd missed, fighting to remember beyond the bits and pieces of memory of his life before hell. The angel bit had surprised him, but then…he'd never seen any signs of them before being hauled up out of a dungeon in hell by one.
Not that he was much to look at now, all huddled in on himself in the basement. John had tasted the kind of punishment Crowley could dish out though, and that was just to amuse himself. He'd had nothing against John. From the look of it, whatever was between the demon and the angel, it was personal.
"I've got the sprinklers ready to go." Bobby said, coming in from the other room, wiping his hands on an already dirty rag.
"We have a problem." Dean said. "Dad left the door open only for a minute and Sam was already losing it. Lucifer is picking at the wall. If it comes down…"
"We'll lose Sam." Bobby finished for him.
John held up a hand. "I'm still not sure I understand what's going on with Sam."
Dean sighed and turned to him. "Castiel pulled him out of the cage almost right after he went in, only…what he got was Sam minus his soul. Sam's soul was down there in that cage for over a year with Michael and Lucifer who had nothing to do but fight each other and torment Sam. And Adam, I assume."
John frowned at him. He remembered Adam, of course. The son he'd had long after Mary died, the one the boys never knew about. Apparently they'd found out. "And where is Adam?" John asked.
Dean dragged a hand over his face. "I…don't know. Castiel never said whether he pulled him out too. I do know he was in heaven before they resurrected him."
That was small comfort now.
"Well, I'm fresh out of new ideas." Bobby said. "Those demons out there are getting antsy. They're going to come at us full tilt soon."
"Maybe I'm still not following all of this." John interrupted. "But those demons work for Crowley, right?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah, and?"
"And Lucifer wants to kill Crowley." John added, thinking. He stroked at the shadow of a beard just starting to grow back in. "What happens if we get Castiel out of the panic room to lure Crowley here…then bring Sam out of the panic room to lure Lucifer. While they're fighting, we slip out the back."
Dean was already shaking his head, but Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Might work."
"Might." Dean echoed. "And if it doesn't? I'm not ready to just offer Castiel up to Crowley, and I sure as hell don't want to lose Sam again."
“Might be the only way we all get out of here.” Bobby said, crossing his arms.
“Might also just get Sam and Castiel taken and us left with nothing.” Dean said, shaking his head. “There has to be another way.”
John wanted to tell him to stop being obstinate, but he stepped back instead. Dean knew more about this situation than he did. Tactically though, John was pretty sure that it would be the only way they stood a chance at all. Sam clearly needed Lucifer to be distracted when they moved.
Castiel watched Sam pace the room, from the door to the wall, then around the cot, stopping at the work bench. He was agitated, and by more than just the visit with his father or the pain inflicted by the memories he wasn’t supposed to remember.
Slowly, Castiel pulled himself up to standing. “You are upset.”
Sam offered him a tight smile. “Yeah, sorry.”
Castiel frowned at him, not sure why he was apologizing. “Your brother will not risk you falling to Lucifer again.”
“I know.” Sam responded, turning his back to the bench and leaning against it. He sighed and Castiel couldn’t figure out the look on his face. “But he’s right, we need to move. If we just sit here, one side of the other is going to find a way in.”
Castiel turned to look at the sword lying on the cot. It was likely the only chance of ending Lucifer’s claim to Sam’s body. He crossed to the cot, running a reverent hand over the hilt. He wasn’t even positive he could wield it now, but he knew they were counting on him to try.
“Lucifer must be within his vessel for this sword to be effective.” Castiel said softly.
“I know.” Sam came to stand beside him. “Can you do it?”
There was more to the question than the simple words. Castiel looked him in the eye. “Can you?”
“I did it before.” Sam’s voice was barely a whisper. Surely he couldn’t be thinking what Castiel imagined he was thinking. Sam looked away and inhaled deeply. “You and me, Cas?”
“You and me?” Castiel repeated, his voice sounding grave and gravely even to his own ears.
Sam’s lips quirked up in a smile and he turned, pulling Castiel close. His lips brushed over Castiel’s and after a slight hesitation, his tongue slipped over Castiel’s lips. It was oddly comforting. Sam ended the kiss softly, his breath ghosting over Castiel’s face. “If I go out there, he will come.”
“If he comes, you will be lost.”
Sam shook his head lightly. “No, you’ll find me.” He lifted the sword and pressed it into Castiel’s hand. “You’ll find me and you’ll do what no one else can.”
A chill swept through him as he understood what Sam was asking of him. “You will die.”
Sam’s smile was wry. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“I….I can not.” Castiel thrust the sword back at him and pulled away.
“You and I both know it’s the only way.” Sam said, following him.
"You will die." Castiel repeated.
"Cas, since when has that ever stopped a Winchester from doing what had to be done?"
He had a point. "It is different now." Castiel couldn't articulate the difference. It had something to do with what Crowley had done to him, and something to do with the emotions that his human vessel was experiencing. He inhaled and amended the thought. It was no longer his vessel that was experiencing it. He had to accept that this was all him.
"How?" Sam asked softly.
Sam was so close it wouldn't take much to touch him. To kiss him again. There was a part of him that wanted to do that. Desperately. To make the words stop. To make him realize that everything had changed…even though the part of Castiel that was still holding on to his angelic nature knew that wasn't true. Castiel had changed. The situation remained.
"I'm different now." Castiel finally murmured, his words slipping over Sam's mouth.
"Cas…" Sam put his hands on Castiel's shoulders and held him back when Castiel would have buried his face in Sam's shoulder. "I know, okay? But….we have to consider everyone else. We have to think of Dean and Bobby and Dad…and the rest of the world."
"Why?" Castiel said suddenly, feeling a streak of fiery anger well up inside him. "Why, Sam? Why you? Why us?" His stomach filled with fury and he wanted to scream until the building collapsed around them. "When is it enough? When?"
His voice echoed around them, bouncing off the walls.
Sam waited until it was quiet again. He shook his head slowly. "Maybe it never is. Maybe…maybe this is what we were made to do."
Castiel swallowed the self-loathing. "Or maybe we do nothing…and the world just goes on without us."
"You don't believe-"
"No?" Castiel snatched the sword back away from Sam. "Maybe if you're so keen to die again, Samuel Winchester, I should just do it now, before Lucifer can find you." He pointed the sword at Sam, but Sam didn't seem afraid. In fact, he looked sad.
"He would only resurrect me when he found me. You know that."
He was right, of course. Castiel took a step back and lifted the blade so that the sharp edge rested against his neck. "Perhaps then I am the one who should die."
"You don't mean that." Sam stepped in close, his hand over Castiel's on the blade. Slowly, Sam pulled the sword down and away, lifting his free hand to cup Castiel's face. "I know what I'm asking you to do. I know that you're feeling vulnerable and that you feel like I'm abandoning you if I do this. I remember how it felt when it was Dean asking me to stay behind and live my life while he went to hell. I remember being the one asking Dean to let me stay in hell, to go live his life." Sam's kiss was gentle. Castiel wanted him to stay, to keep kissing him like that.
"I'm going to open that door, and I'm going to go upstairs." Sam whispered. "I'm hoping you'll follow me with this sword ready. I'm hoping I can make it hard enough for Lucifer that he doesn't see you coming until you've got this sword shoved into us both."
His lips brushed over Castiel's once more and then he was gone, across the room, the door thrown open…and panic seized Castiel's stomach as Sam's footsteps disappeared up the stairs.
"It's not happening." Dean said again, wondering when Bobby had lost his hearing. "Next suggestion."
"There is no other suggestion." Bobby responded. "Unless we just sit here and wait for the house to fall down around our ears."
"I have a suggestion."
Dean turned as Sam joined them. "Sam! What the fuck are you doing?"
Sam sort of shrugged, though he was pale and obviously shaking. "What has to be done." Sam responded, keeping his distance and circling away when Dean tried to crowd him back toward the basement.
"No. No. You don't get to do this." Dean said.
Sam shook his head. "It's my decision Dean."
"What do you think you're doing?" their father asked, moving to trap Sam between him and Dean.
Sam licked his lips. He was sweating. "We have one shot. I'm taking it."
The lights started to flicker and the windows rattled.
"Sam, get back downstairs."
"No. He's here." Sam was starting to hyperventilate. "Fuck. Fuck." He looked scared when he looked up at Dean.
"Dad, grab him." Dean said, closing in on Sam himself.
"Too late." Sam whispered as he crashed to his knees. He screamed, grabbing at his head as he fell to his side, curling up defensively.
"Hello Dean."
Dean jumped, at the sound of the voice, whipping his head around as Lucifer joined them in the body of a boy barely old enough to be able to consent. Dean threw himself at the boy, but the light was already leaking out of him.
"Cover your eyes!" Dean yelled to his father as Lucifer left his imperfect vessel. "Sam! Fight him!"
The light covered Sam's convulsing body, and sank into him.
"Sam! Damnit!" Dean launched himself at his brother as the light faded, rolling him over, but it was too late.
The expression on Sam's face wasn't him. "I said, hello Dean."
Dean was shoved back and Lucifer stood inside Sam's body, cracking his neck. "Sam's a little busy cowering under a landslide of memories right now."
Dean picked himself up, moving away from Sam and toward his father, who was looking like he was going to make a charge. "Dad." Dean grabbed his arm, shaking his head.
Lucifer looked at John then, grinning broadly. "John Winchester. What a pleasure. I've had a good time pretending to be you in the past. Used your face to make Sammy go all little boy. Used your dick to make him a whore."
"Son of a bitch!" Dean couldn't hold him and his father threw himself at Sam, only to be flung backward into the wall.
"Yeah, I played her too. Cut Sammy up while smiling out of her face. You should have heard him." He shook Sam's head and rolled his eyes. "Now then, I would love to stay and tell you all about it, but there's an imposter attempting to remake hell in his image, and I really should see about skinning him alive and pouring acid into what's left."
Dean saw Castiel a split second before Lucifer did, the sword slicing the air. Before it could reach it's mark though, Lucifer moved, suddenly behind Castiel, holding his neck in one hand, his wrist in the other.
Castiel looked to Dean, panicked as Lucifer squeezed his wrist and forced him to drop the sword. "Now, now, little brother, that doesn't belong to you."
Lucifer backed away, keeping Castiel close to him. "Oh, Sammy…naughty boy…I think maybe we'll keep you, little one….say goodbye to your friends."
With the familiar faded flutter of wings they couldn't see, Sam and Castiel were gone.
"Fuck!" Dean grabbed the nearest chair and threw it across the room. It shattered against the wall with a satisfying sound, but it wasn't enough. He grabbed the plates still on the table and flung those, then he shoved the table itself, shattering the window behind it.
Outside, the demons were leaving, the dark clouds lifting. Their prey was gone. They had no reason to stay.
Dean had somehow managed to lose both his brother and Castiel…and he had no clue how to begin looking for them.
Title: Under Siege (Part Four--I'll get an index up soon)
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, John, Balthazar (some mild Sam/Castiel)
Word Count: 4562
Rating: NC-17 (for theme)
Summary: Near the end of Season Six, after "The Man Who Would Be King"...Castiel has not been seen or heard from since his last conversation with Dean at Bobby's. Time marches on without him and Sam and Dean keep hunting. One night Sam wakes to sounds he can't place and Balthazar appears, leaving a very wounded, unresponsive & comatose Castiel in their care before he disappears. Thus begins a mystery that will stretch the already thin resources of the Winchester boys to their limits...and may break more than one of them before the end.
A/Ns & Warnings: This is a fic that ate my brain, continues to eat my brain. It is partially the fault of varkelton and the conversation begun at her house. Fair warning that the topic of that conversation was what situations either of us could conceivably actually slash Castiel with either of the boys....so while this has not yet gone to a slashy place, it very well may andso, it has begun inching toward the slashy place, though this part includes only very minor kissing....it may ultimately include Dean/Castiel, Sam/Castiel and quite possibly Dean/Castiel/Sam...consider yourself warned. As to warnings for this part? Much Castiel whumpage (including implied sexual assault, which it should be said is implied to include non-con bestiality of a sort). Mind fuckery. Implied and partially remembered violence.
Dean stormed up the stairs to see what it was his father was yelling about. It was obvious almost immediately. The black siege that had trapped them for the last forty eight hours had withdrawn some.
Outside the windows he could see people moving through the dark haze.
"They started showing up right after you went downstairs." John said as Dean joined him near the front door. "The first couple threw themselves at the windows, but they've fallen back now."
Dean nodded, watching them mill about listlessly. "Eventually they'll start throwing themselves at us, hoping to break through somewhere."
"Sounds like you've been through this before." John said.
Dean looked at him. "Unfortunately, more than once." He huffed and turned to Bobby. "Check the back, make sure we don't have any week spots."
"So what is our plan here?"
His father was sounding more like himself and Dean wasn't really sure if that was a good thing or not. "Well, I figure we're stuck dealing with Crowley for now. He's predictable to a degree. We know what he wants and why."
"Right, the angel."
Dean nodded. "See, when Sam sent Lucifer back into his cage, and we had killed most of the other high level demons, Crowley stepped in to take over hell. But now that Lucifer is back on the loose, Crowley doesn't want to relinquish the title."
John frowned at him. "How does the angel help him?"
"Not sure he can, but Crowley seems to think he can. He thinks Castiel has the key to opening a door into Purgatory."
"We're set, all the traps are intact." Bobby said coming back.
Dean nodded. Balthazar wasn’t entirely wrong, of course. They would be better getting the hell out, but he couldn’t see a clean way of doing that. Not without sacrificing Castiel…and while Dean was still angry with the bastard for the lying and spying, there was no way he was going to turn him over for what would likely be even worse torture than Castiel had already been through.
And it was clear Castiel had been through a lot. Three months he’d been gone. Maybe more. Nearly as long as Dean had been in the pit. He swallowed at the rising bile, memory spilling out of the dark place he’d kept it hidden.
Screams tear from his throat as nails rake over his skin, carving into flesh and muscle, peeling it back from the bone. Fingers of flame curl around his cock, licking at his balls as something large fucks into his ass and his face is torn open by tiny teeth…
“Dean.” Bobby’s voice cracks through the memory and Dean exhales, nodding shakily. His hand snakes to his back pocket, pulling the flask out and tipping it into his mouth.
The burn is almost enough to anchor him, to hold him to the moment.
“So, we have the sword that can kill Lucifer.” Bobby said. “How does that help us?”
Dean stuck the flask back in his pocket and shook his head. “Unless we also have Lucifer, in a physical body, it doesn’t.”
“You gotta figure he’s going to find someone, like last time, if he can’t find Sam.”
“I’m not sure I understand this whole angel thing.” John said. “What does Lucifer need with Sam?”
Dean sighed. “Sam is his vessel. It has something to do with bloodlines. I don’t know that I’ve ever gotten the whole story, but I’m Michael’s vessel…or I was until they went and resurrected Adam, and you were before me. I guess that means…Sam gets it from Mom’s side? I don’t know.”
He collapsed into the chair and rubbed over his face. “He can occupy other bodies, if they agree, but they won’t hold him forever….not like Sam can.”
“And since Sam already said yes once, Lucifer can just climb back inside him?” John asked.
“Not sure, but I don’t really want to take a chance." Dean replied. "We're flying a little more blind than usual here."
"So they possess you, like demons do?" His father was frowning, looking intently at Dean.
"Something like, yeah."
"So…Castiel…the guy downstairs with Sam…"
"He's inside a guy named Jimmy, only…Jimmy left a while ago. Now it's just Castiel in there." Dean said. He hadn't given it much thought in a long time. "And before you let it get under your skin, angel's have to get permission. Jimmy chose to let Castiel in, even when he knew it would be a permanent thing."
John nodded slowly, clearly processing the information. "And Castiel is the one who pulled me out of hell?"
He sighed and looked up at his father. "According to Castiel, his intention when he found out Crowley had you was to pull you out and take you upstairs. He didn't even know you'd gotten out. Which doesn't help us, but I don't think we need to worry about anyone laying claim to you. Alistair is dead, Lilith is dead, that yellow-eyed son of a bitch is dead."
John actually smiled then. "I can see you've been busy."
Dean chuckled darkly. "You could say that. It's been a hell of a couple of years Dad."
"Not to interrupt the memory lane visit," Bobby said. "We do have a little demon problem to deal with."
Dean stood and crossed to the window. "Any ideas here?"
"Balthazar was right, even with the angel wards and devil's traps, we might as well have a target painted on us." Bobby said, crossing his arms. "I have an idea that should get us to the cars, but doesn't help us know where we're going."
"Away." Dean said. He didn't like running away from things. He didn't mind running, but he was happier when the target was ahead of him, not on his back. "Until we can figure out a plan of attack."
"Is that wise?" John asked, clearly uneasy. "We are safe here, to a degree."
"Until they wear us down." Bobby answered, crossing to his desk. "And they will."
As if on cue, one of the demon possessed outside threw themselves at a window. The glass broke and it got part way inside before the salt started to burn. Bobby grabbed it and hauled it into the devil's trap at the base of the window, already chanting the Latin required to release the demon.
A few minutes later, the black inky smoke raced back out the window, screaming. Bobby stood back and looked at Dean. "You take Sam and Castiel. I'll take your father."
Dean nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay." He pulled his father away from the window. "You should see Sam. Before we leave. Just…don't pick a fight."
He opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but Dean just held up a finger and shook his head. "You good for a few, Bobby?"
"Yeah, just make it fast."
Castiel had stopped shaking, but he was still upset, still leaning into Sam. They had withdrawn to the back of the room, away from the door. Sam sat with his back against the wall. Castiel was beside him, though his back was to Sam, his head on Sam's shoulder.
Sam's hand was around Castiel's waist, mostly for a lack of anywhere else to put it that wasn't awkward or painful. Castiel held the upper part of Sam's arm as though it were a safety line, something to keep him from floating away. The grip was too tight, and he was going to leave bruises, but Sam didn't have it in him to tell Castiel to let go.
The sword lay on the cot, shining like some promise. Promises made Sam worry. They had thought they could kill Lucifer before. The colt hadn't even made a dent. They had thought they could cage him. And now he was free again.
He sighed and tried to imagine a scenario that wouldn't end up with all of them dead. Or worse.
The problem was, the only way the sword did them any good was if Lucifer was inside a body, and Castiel was together enough to use it…before Lucifer stopped him.
And so far, Sam could think of only one way for that to happen.
The door to the panic room opened again. Castiel whimpered and turned his face further. "Shh." Sam whispered, easing his arm free and getting up. He swallowed a lump of emotion as his father filled the doorway. "Dad."
There was a moment's hesitation, then Sam was around the cot and pulling his father into a hug. His eyes closed as his father's arms wrapped around him. "Sam."
Eventually, Sam knew, he was going to have to let go…but for the moment he clung to his father, hiding in the moment, pretending he was twelve again and just having his father there was enough to make everything okay.
John patted his back and Sam took the cue, sniffling a little and stepping back. "Damn, it's good to see you." Sam said.
"You're looking a little rough around the edges there, Sammy."
Sam looked his father over. He was smaller somehow than Sam remembered, thinner and paler. “You too.”
“A couple of tours of hell will take it out of you.” John replied, though he smiled a little. His eyes darted to Castiel, then back. “Something I hear we have in common.”
Sam shrugged a little. “Winchester family tradition, I guess. Goes right up there with sacrificing ourselves and making deals with demons. And apparently resurrection.”
“So I hear.” John moved away, circling the room, his eyes scanning the workmanship Bobby had put into it. “It’s funny, the things I remember and what I don’t.” He shook his head. “I remember the feeling of your mother’s lips on mine, the sound you made when you were hungry as a baby, the time Dean broke his leg in Des Moines. I remember arguing with you about Stanford.”
Sam could feel his eyes, but couldn’t seem to look up. This was where his father would tell him what a disappointment he was, how he’d tarnished the family name. Tears burned in the corner of his eyes. “Dad, I-“
“I remember how damn proud I was, but for the life of me I can’t remember why I couldn’t tell you that. Too damn stubborn I guess.”
Sam looked up, the tear falling in his surprise. “You…what?”
John shook his head. “I remember how proud I was of you right before I died too. You…I don’t really remember all the details…but you saved your brother and me…you…I didn’t tell you then either. I was too busy buying you and Dean time.”
Sam’s stomach twisted and he shook his head, turning away from his father. “For all the good it did. I…became a monster.” He didn’t deserve his father’s pride.
”Dirty, filthy blood-sucking freak.” The words cut into him, even though he knew they weren’t really coming from his father. Sam held his stomach and moved away.
“Sam?”
“No.” He closed his eyes, trying to push the thought away. "You know you deserve this, Sammy. You were made for this. You were born for this.
"Dean…." Sam staggered toward the open door of the room, even though his brother's name was barely above a whisper. "Dean…" Something inside him was breaking…he could feel it. "Dean!"
Sam's knees gave and he crashed to the floor, clutching at his chest. His lungs were screaming for air that he couldn't seem to get into them. He flailed as hands grabbed at him, unable to tell the real ones from the memories spilling into his head…suffocating him, pressing into him, bleeding him.
"That's it Sammy…let me in…I'm coming for you….just let it all out…remember everything we did together…"
"Sam!"
A wall slammed up suddenly and air rushed into him. Sam gasped, his eyes opening. He half expected to find Lucifer staring down at him instead of Dean and his father. "Dean?" Sam struggled to sit up, grabbing at Dean's hand. "What happened?"
Dean pulled him up to his feet, shaking his head. "I don't know. You tell me."
"We were….just talking." Sam said. "And…I heard…in my head, it was…like in my dreams…D-dad's voice…only it wasn't him…and the wall sort of…cracked…I couldn't breathe, and Lucifer was…" He looked up at Dean. "He's close. He's got to be close."
"Okay, calm down." Dean pressed his lips together and shook his head. "It's better now though?"
Sam looked at the closed door and nodded. "Yeah. He's gone again."
"Shit." Dean paced, scratching at the back of his head. "There goes that plan. If he's close enough that it only takes opening that door, we'll never get you out of here and behind another set of sigils fast enough."
"I only left the door open a few minutes." John said, frowning.
"It's not your fault." Dean said. "We just need a different plan." He looked Sam over. "You sure you're okay?"
Sam was still shaky, but he nodded. "Yeah."
"Okay, stay here. I'll be back when I've figure out what we're going to do."
"What does he mean, my voice?" John asked as he followed Dean up the stairs.
Dean wasn't answering though, he was too busy cursing under his breath. "Dean."
John grabbed his shoulder once they were in the kitchen, turning him around. "What did he mean?"
Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. "Look…just…he knows it wasn't you, the same way I know it wasn't you. But…Lucifer in particular liked to borrow the face and voices of people to torment him. He did it in his dreams before Sam said yes. I can only imagine he did it once they were in the cage."
John shuddered and turned away. Alistair had tried that only once, coming to him as Mary. John had ignored him more than usual and he'd abandoned the attempt in favor of more physical methods of torture that made him scream until his throat collapsed.
He was struggling to catch up on three years of time he'd missed, fighting to remember beyond the bits and pieces of memory of his life before hell. The angel bit had surprised him, but then…he'd never seen any signs of them before being hauled up out of a dungeon in hell by one.
Not that he was much to look at now, all huddled in on himself in the basement. John had tasted the kind of punishment Crowley could dish out though, and that was just to amuse himself. He'd had nothing against John. From the look of it, whatever was between the demon and the angel, it was personal.
"I've got the sprinklers ready to go." Bobby said, coming in from the other room, wiping his hands on an already dirty rag.
"We have a problem." Dean said. "Dad left the door open only for a minute and Sam was already losing it. Lucifer is picking at the wall. If it comes down…"
"We'll lose Sam." Bobby finished for him.
John held up a hand. "I'm still not sure I understand what's going on with Sam."
Dean sighed and turned to him. "Castiel pulled him out of the cage almost right after he went in, only…what he got was Sam minus his soul. Sam's soul was down there in that cage for over a year with Michael and Lucifer who had nothing to do but fight each other and torment Sam. And Adam, I assume."
John frowned at him. He remembered Adam, of course. The son he'd had long after Mary died, the one the boys never knew about. Apparently they'd found out. "And where is Adam?" John asked.
Dean dragged a hand over his face. "I…don't know. Castiel never said whether he pulled him out too. I do know he was in heaven before they resurrected him."
That was small comfort now.
"Well, I'm fresh out of new ideas." Bobby said. "Those demons out there are getting antsy. They're going to come at us full tilt soon."
"Maybe I'm still not following all of this." John interrupted. "But those demons work for Crowley, right?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah, and?"
"And Lucifer wants to kill Crowley." John added, thinking. He stroked at the shadow of a beard just starting to grow back in. "What happens if we get Castiel out of the panic room to lure Crowley here…then bring Sam out of the panic room to lure Lucifer. While they're fighting, we slip out the back."
Dean was already shaking his head, but Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Might work."
"Might." Dean echoed. "And if it doesn't? I'm not ready to just offer Castiel up to Crowley, and I sure as hell don't want to lose Sam again."
“Might be the only way we all get out of here.” Bobby said, crossing his arms.
“Might also just get Sam and Castiel taken and us left with nothing.” Dean said, shaking his head. “There has to be another way.”
John wanted to tell him to stop being obstinate, but he stepped back instead. Dean knew more about this situation than he did. Tactically though, John was pretty sure that it would be the only way they stood a chance at all. Sam clearly needed Lucifer to be distracted when they moved.
Castiel watched Sam pace the room, from the door to the wall, then around the cot, stopping at the work bench. He was agitated, and by more than just the visit with his father or the pain inflicted by the memories he wasn’t supposed to remember.
Slowly, Castiel pulled himself up to standing. “You are upset.”
Sam offered him a tight smile. “Yeah, sorry.”
Castiel frowned at him, not sure why he was apologizing. “Your brother will not risk you falling to Lucifer again.”
“I know.” Sam responded, turning his back to the bench and leaning against it. He sighed and Castiel couldn’t figure out the look on his face. “But he’s right, we need to move. If we just sit here, one side of the other is going to find a way in.”
Castiel turned to look at the sword lying on the cot. It was likely the only chance of ending Lucifer’s claim to Sam’s body. He crossed to the cot, running a reverent hand over the hilt. He wasn’t even positive he could wield it now, but he knew they were counting on him to try.
“Lucifer must be within his vessel for this sword to be effective.” Castiel said softly.
“I know.” Sam came to stand beside him. “Can you do it?”
There was more to the question than the simple words. Castiel looked him in the eye. “Can you?”
“I did it before.” Sam’s voice was barely a whisper. Surely he couldn’t be thinking what Castiel imagined he was thinking. Sam looked away and inhaled deeply. “You and me, Cas?”
“You and me?” Castiel repeated, his voice sounding grave and gravely even to his own ears.
Sam’s lips quirked up in a smile and he turned, pulling Castiel close. His lips brushed over Castiel’s and after a slight hesitation, his tongue slipped over Castiel’s lips. It was oddly comforting. Sam ended the kiss softly, his breath ghosting over Castiel’s face. “If I go out there, he will come.”
“If he comes, you will be lost.”
Sam shook his head lightly. “No, you’ll find me.” He lifted the sword and pressed it into Castiel’s hand. “You’ll find me and you’ll do what no one else can.”
A chill swept through him as he understood what Sam was asking of him. “You will die.”
Sam’s smile was wry. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“I….I can not.” Castiel thrust the sword back at him and pulled away.
“You and I both know it’s the only way.” Sam said, following him.
"You will die." Castiel repeated.
"Cas, since when has that ever stopped a Winchester from doing what had to be done?"
He had a point. "It is different now." Castiel couldn't articulate the difference. It had something to do with what Crowley had done to him, and something to do with the emotions that his human vessel was experiencing. He inhaled and amended the thought. It was no longer his vessel that was experiencing it. He had to accept that this was all him.
"How?" Sam asked softly.
Sam was so close it wouldn't take much to touch him. To kiss him again. There was a part of him that wanted to do that. Desperately. To make the words stop. To make him realize that everything had changed…even though the part of Castiel that was still holding on to his angelic nature knew that wasn't true. Castiel had changed. The situation remained.
"I'm different now." Castiel finally murmured, his words slipping over Sam's mouth.
"Cas…" Sam put his hands on Castiel's shoulders and held him back when Castiel would have buried his face in Sam's shoulder. "I know, okay? But….we have to consider everyone else. We have to think of Dean and Bobby and Dad…and the rest of the world."
"Why?" Castiel said suddenly, feeling a streak of fiery anger well up inside him. "Why, Sam? Why you? Why us?" His stomach filled with fury and he wanted to scream until the building collapsed around them. "When is it enough? When?"
His voice echoed around them, bouncing off the walls.
Sam waited until it was quiet again. He shook his head slowly. "Maybe it never is. Maybe…maybe this is what we were made to do."
Castiel swallowed the self-loathing. "Or maybe we do nothing…and the world just goes on without us."
"You don't believe-"
"No?" Castiel snatched the sword back away from Sam. "Maybe if you're so keen to die again, Samuel Winchester, I should just do it now, before Lucifer can find you." He pointed the sword at Sam, but Sam didn't seem afraid. In fact, he looked sad.
"He would only resurrect me when he found me. You know that."
He was right, of course. Castiel took a step back and lifted the blade so that the sharp edge rested against his neck. "Perhaps then I am the one who should die."
"You don't mean that." Sam stepped in close, his hand over Castiel's on the blade. Slowly, Sam pulled the sword down and away, lifting his free hand to cup Castiel's face. "I know what I'm asking you to do. I know that you're feeling vulnerable and that you feel like I'm abandoning you if I do this. I remember how it felt when it was Dean asking me to stay behind and live my life while he went to hell. I remember being the one asking Dean to let me stay in hell, to go live his life." Sam's kiss was gentle. Castiel wanted him to stay, to keep kissing him like that.
"I'm going to open that door, and I'm going to go upstairs." Sam whispered. "I'm hoping you'll follow me with this sword ready. I'm hoping I can make it hard enough for Lucifer that he doesn't see you coming until you've got this sword shoved into us both."
His lips brushed over Castiel's once more and then he was gone, across the room, the door thrown open…and panic seized Castiel's stomach as Sam's footsteps disappeared up the stairs.
"It's not happening." Dean said again, wondering when Bobby had lost his hearing. "Next suggestion."
"There is no other suggestion." Bobby responded. "Unless we just sit here and wait for the house to fall down around our ears."
"I have a suggestion."
Dean turned as Sam joined them. "Sam! What the fuck are you doing?"
Sam sort of shrugged, though he was pale and obviously shaking. "What has to be done." Sam responded, keeping his distance and circling away when Dean tried to crowd him back toward the basement.
"No. No. You don't get to do this." Dean said.
Sam shook his head. "It's my decision Dean."
"What do you think you're doing?" their father asked, moving to trap Sam between him and Dean.
Sam licked his lips. He was sweating. "We have one shot. I'm taking it."
The lights started to flicker and the windows rattled.
"Sam, get back downstairs."
"No. He's here." Sam was starting to hyperventilate. "Fuck. Fuck." He looked scared when he looked up at Dean.
"Dad, grab him." Dean said, closing in on Sam himself.
"Too late." Sam whispered as he crashed to his knees. He screamed, grabbing at his head as he fell to his side, curling up defensively.
"Hello Dean."
Dean jumped, at the sound of the voice, whipping his head around as Lucifer joined them in the body of a boy barely old enough to be able to consent. Dean threw himself at the boy, but the light was already leaking out of him.
"Cover your eyes!" Dean yelled to his father as Lucifer left his imperfect vessel. "Sam! Fight him!"
The light covered Sam's convulsing body, and sank into him.
"Sam! Damnit!" Dean launched himself at his brother as the light faded, rolling him over, but it was too late.
The expression on Sam's face wasn't him. "I said, hello Dean."
Dean was shoved back and Lucifer stood inside Sam's body, cracking his neck. "Sam's a little busy cowering under a landslide of memories right now."
Dean picked himself up, moving away from Sam and toward his father, who was looking like he was going to make a charge. "Dad." Dean grabbed his arm, shaking his head.
Lucifer looked at John then, grinning broadly. "John Winchester. What a pleasure. I've had a good time pretending to be you in the past. Used your face to make Sammy go all little boy. Used your dick to make him a whore."
"Son of a bitch!" Dean couldn't hold him and his father threw himself at Sam, only to be flung backward into the wall.
"Yeah, I played her too. Cut Sammy up while smiling out of her face. You should have heard him." He shook Sam's head and rolled his eyes. "Now then, I would love to stay and tell you all about it, but there's an imposter attempting to remake hell in his image, and I really should see about skinning him alive and pouring acid into what's left."
Dean saw Castiel a split second before Lucifer did, the sword slicing the air. Before it could reach it's mark though, Lucifer moved, suddenly behind Castiel, holding his neck in one hand, his wrist in the other.
Castiel looked to Dean, panicked as Lucifer squeezed his wrist and forced him to drop the sword. "Now, now, little brother, that doesn't belong to you."
Lucifer backed away, keeping Castiel close to him. "Oh, Sammy…naughty boy…I think maybe we'll keep you, little one….say goodbye to your friends."
With the familiar faded flutter of wings they couldn't see, Sam and Castiel were gone.
"Fuck!" Dean grabbed the nearest chair and threw it across the room. It shattered against the wall with a satisfying sound, but it wasn't enough. He grabbed the plates still on the table and flung those, then he shoved the table itself, shattering the window behind it.
Outside, the demons were leaving, the dark clouds lifting. Their prey was gone. They had no reason to stay.
Dean had somehow managed to lose both his brother and Castiel…and he had no clue how to begin looking for them.