Non Timebo Mala: Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Dean had been utterly unbearable since dropping Castiel off and Sam was almost at the point of telling him to just go back and get him now if only to save his sanity. He’d had to listen to a diatribe of insults which questioned everything from the senator’s choice of wardrobe to the integrity of his entire family tree. While he couldn’t exactly disagree on most of what was said, he did feel that insinuating the man’s mother had bedded most of the farm animals in Rome was going a bit far. He had felt some sense of relief when the paperwork for Dean’s transfer had made it safely into the hands of the 32nd’s chain of command. Even now the orders were being sent out that would release him from duty with the 78th. Sam couldn’t say he was ungrateful though when the sun finally dipped below the horizon and the brothers found themselves crouched just outside a well off home in the wealthier section of the city. It was by no means as opulent as the senator’s but as Dean finally caught sight of Castiel’s childhood home, he stopped griping long enough to appreciate it, much to Sam’s relief.
It was a pretty enough place with its squat welcoming entrance and lovely stonework. Dean could almost imagine the tiny figure of little Cas playing on the low stone steps leading into the house and the mental image brought the first smile to his face since dropping off his lover. “Ok,” Sam whispered beside him, “Cas said the slaves’ quarters were on the back right corner of the house. There’s a little alleyway that runs along that side and we should be able to get in there and get his mom before Michael knows we’re here.”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, got it. You got the note?” Sam pulled out the folded sheet of parchment that Castiel had written on and handed it over. “All right, let’s get this over with.” He slid out of the darkness across the street and darted across the open road. Sam slipped along behind him without a noise and followed as Dean led the way down the alley to the backside of the house. There, just as Castiel said, was a small door set down just below street level that led into the slave chambers. Dean pulled out a thin set of tools from a pouch at his waist and slid one of them through the space between two of the slats in the door. He pulled up slowly, feeling it catch onto the bar on the other side, and then jerked up until the beam clattered to the floor. He winced at the noise it made and could hear someone shuffling around inside so he barged in as fast as he could. In the meager light from the lamps outside, he could just make out a small bent shape scurrying toward the kitchen and he rushed after her, all but tackling the old woman as she reached for a set of sharp knives lined along a cutting board. She moved to scream and he clamped a hand over her mouth, a hand she promptly bit, and Dean grunted in pain. “Nnnnggg….you are SO lucky Cas likes you,” he growled.
The old woman stilled a little at that and Sam snuck forward to try calming her. “Sssh! It’s ok. We’re friends of Castiel. He sent us here to get you.”
Anya calmed in Dean’s arms and he raised his eyebrows. “If I let you go, you’re not gonna scream, right?” She shook her head and he tentatively released her, ready to pounce again if necessary. The old woman didn’t make any noise though and instead just looked over the brothers shrewdly. Her wrinkled brow furrowed as she stared at each one in turn and Sam could see a great deal of intelligence in those eyes. Years of hard work had worn her down and her face bore the signs of a life fraught with difficulties. She took a tentative step away from Dean but made no further attempts to scream.
"You think I'm stupid enough to go with two men who break into my house?" the old woman croaked quietly, "You leave. Get out now or I'll call my master and he'll have your heads on pikes by morning."
Dean sighed and pulled out the note. “Cas can’t leave Azazel’s house till you’re safe, ok? So we’re gonna sneak you out of town. You just gotta trust us. Sam here’ll take you outside the gates and then Cas and I’ll catch up.” Anya flicked her eyes from the paper she'd been handed to Dean and back again before balling it up and clutching it to her chest.
“He’s such a good boy,” she whispered quietly, “You get him out of there. You tell him not to worry so much about me.” Anya patted Dean’s stomach affectionately and then shuffled quickly out of the backdoor behind Sam.
Dean lingered as he glanced over the array of dried foods currently gracing the kitchen. He hadn't had much time to eat with all the rushing about they'd been doing and his stomach growled angrily at him. He snagged a hunk of fresh cheese off the counter and tucked it into a pouch at his waist along with a few sausages before finally ducking out to join the others. He slipped back into the front of the group, ignoring Sam's questioning look, and headed for the street again with all the stealth of a jungle cat. Anya slipped in behind him and Sam took up the rear. He could see the escape route in his head and knew they just had to make it to the darkness on the other side of the street before anyone saw them.
It wasn’t exactly going to look good for two soldiers to be caught running around the nicer sections of the city with an old slave in their care but he figured they would be safe enough once they got down to the darker parts of Rome. No one would look twice at the strange trio in the festering alleys and ramshackle market stalls Dean had grown up around. “Stay close and keep up,” he whispered behind him before stepping out from the alley and right into view of the group of armed men he hadn’t seen standing at the front of the house. He froze and snapped his left hand behind his back, balling it into a fist as a signal for Sam to stop.
Twelve men were standing around an ornate litter and all of them turned to look at Dean in unison as he came around the corner. “Hi guys,” he tried to say as nonchalantly as he could, “nice night for a stroll.” The men looked at each other and then back to Dean. “Beautiful house,” he squeaked, gesturing at Michael’s home.
One of the guardsmen took a step forward. “Who are you? What is your business here?”
Dean swallowed hard and opened his mouth to lie but the low hiss of a voice he recognized cut him off. “His name is Dean Winchester,” Azazel said triumphantly from the door to Michael’s home. He slipped down the steps and Dean tried to resist the urge to throttle the bastard just for looking so smug. “He’s a legionnaire and I assume he’s here to ask Michael for Castiel’s hand in marriage or something sweet like that.” Azazel grinned at him knowingly and Dean felt his heart drop straight into his stomach. The senator knew. He wasn’t sure how it had been discovered but he flicked his fingers to wave Sam back now that he knew he wasn’t going to talk his way out. His brother watched with trepidation from the alley way; he had also recognized Azazel’s voice and he didn’t want to risk leaving his brother alone out there. Dean flicked his fingers again with more urgency and Sam finally relented, dragging Anya back to the door they had come from. He ushered her back into the kitchen and told her wait until they came back for her before rushing back to the edge of the alley to see if Dean was ok.
The guards had moved to take up positions around his brother and Sam watched helplessly as they grabbed Dean’s arms. Dean didn’t go down quietly though and he solidly broke the nose of one guard while crippling the other with a blow to the knee. He couldn’t get his sword out in time though before there were simply too many men on him, pulling his arms behind him and slapping a set of heavy iron manacles in place. The men dragged him up to stand before Azazel and he snarled at the senator. “You can’t prove I did anything wrong and while you may make plenty of laws around here, there’s none against walking around at night,” he growled, “Now tell your toy soldiers here to get their frickin’ hands off me.”
“I don’t understand the meaning of all this,” Flavian spoke up from the doorway, “Who is this man?”
Azazel ignored his fellow senator for the moment and gripped Dean’s chin in his hand. “To start, I think I’ll charge you with trespassing,” he said with slimy satisfaction, “but that’s not good enough, is it? A slap on the wrist maybe. No, I need more than that.”
Flavian stepped up behind Azazel and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know what’s going on here but you have acted strangely this whole night. You interrupted evening meal for mysterious business, rushed to this home to discuss your aide’s behavior with his brother, and now you are detaining a soldier of Rome for what amounts to no reason. Azazel, I insist you explain yourself and release this man or I will have to send for the city guard. I tire of these games.”
Azazel tipped his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. “I think murder should do it,” he said a moment later. In a lightning quick movement he wrenched the sword from Dean’s belt, whirled around, and sank it up to the hilt into Flavian’s gut. The senators stared at each other for a long moment, Flavian gasping for air while Azazel smiled at him, before the less fortunate of them finally fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Azazel yanked the sword back out and turned to smile at Dean. “Dean, Dean, Dean. Murdering a well respected senator. Shame on you.”
“Why you sunnuva…” Dean never finished the sentence as the end of a dagger struck the back of his head and his world went black. He flopped to the ground in a heap and Azazel leaned over to pull a hip flask from one of his guards. He emptied the contents over Dean’s tunic and face before turning to face the rest of his group.
“This drunken soldier was caught trespassing on private property. When he was asked to leave, he brazenly murdered senator Flavian before anyone could stop him,” Azazel drawled out calmly. “Go fetch Michael. He should know what horrible tragedy happened on his front steps. And you,” he said pointing to another one of his men, “Go get the city guard. We have a new criminal for tomorrow’s festivities.”
Sam railed against the desire to go out there and rescue his brother but he knew he would stand no chance against that many men on his own. He reluctantly pulled back and slipped into the shadows at the back of the house. He would have to wait until they left and then find a way to free Dean and Castiel, who he could well guess was also in trouble. As Sam sank down in the darkness and listened to the sound of Azazel’s men rallying the guard, he bowed his head and prayed to all the gods that would listen.
“Please help us.”
Chapter 15 Master Post Chapter 17