Walk 6/7: I Believe I've Waited Long Enough
Title: Walk
Author: safiyabat
Artist: chasingparallax
Characters & Pairing(s): Sam/Castiel; Sam, Castiel, Claire, Dean
Rating: M
Word Count: 32,417 / 5,161 (chapter)
Warnings: show-level violence, depression. Explicit sexual content.
Summary: Sam has an encounter with the divine.
Claire returned about an hour after Cas left. “Since you’re alone I can only guess that it didn’t go well,” she said, flopping down into a chair.
He looked sharply up at her. “Define ‘well,’” he sighed.
She recovered quickly, he had to give her that much. He guessed she’d had to, out on the streets. “Well he’s not in here right now, is he? You’re not talking. What happened?”
Sam rubbed his temples. “He said he wanted… he said he would have found ‘partners’ for me if I wanted. I guess now I’m too incompetent to do that for myself too?” He raised his arms up at his sides and dropped them again. “I can honestly say that I have no clue what’s going on in his head.”
“I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean you can’t find your own hook-ups, Sam.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, the gesture far too old for her years. “Didn’t you say you once had a crush on him?”
“Sure, years ago. I’m over it, I promise.” It was a lie, but after all these years it slid easily off his tongue. “I told you us hunting together was a bad idea, Claire.”
“You hunted together for Dean, didn’t you?”
“We both love Dean. And trust me, there was plenty of tension there.”
She smirked. “I’ll bet.” She stood up. “I’ll go unruffle his feathers. You… do Sam things. I don’t know. Research. Whatever. I refuse to surrender.”
She ran out of the room and Sam stared at the blank laptop screen for a minute. Then he shook his head. Claire was probably trying to set him and Cas up or something. On the one hand he supposed that was sweet. She knew about his youthful crush and was trying to help out. On the other, she was trying to push something that Sam said he no longer wanted and that Castiel could never lower himself to contemplate.
A quick examination of the deaths that had brought them to Parkersburg showed some interesting commonalities between the victims. All of the victims were Mexican-American - not just Latin, but of Mexican extraction. They’d all been to the state park at Blennerhasset Island. And they’d all died from having their heart literally explode sometime after they’d returned to Parkersburg. “Deep in the heart of Texas,” Sam chuckled softly, clicking through the autopsy reports.
Assuming that they were dealing with a ghost, that strongly suggested that they were dealing with the spirit of Harman Blennerhassett, who had built the mansion that gave the state of West Virginia the excuse to build the park. He’d been imprisoned for treason in a plot that had probably been an attempt to wrest control of Texas away from Spain, the same plot in which Aaron Burr had been implicated, and the scandal had broken the colonist. It would certainly have given him a grudge, and it would be enough to tether him to the world of the living.
The blatant racism was certainly true to his period too.
Still, the possibility that they were dealing with a cursed object couldn’t be discounted. The only way to figure it out would be to interview the witnesses directly and then visit the site. He went to grab Claire in the other room, only to find her deep in conversation with Castiel.
“He acts like I do not know him, like I’ve never been there for him,” he heard Cas telling Claire. “Why would he feel this way? I pulled him out of the Cage!”
Half of me, Sam thought viciously. And then you let me twist, knowing that you’d botched the job. Followed by making sure I’d be a liability to Dean forever, which wasn’t even about me. But hey, who’s bitter?
He checked himself for the thoughts. They weren’t productive. Instead, he knocked on the door. “Hey, Claire,” he greeted when she opened the door. He ignored Cas’ look of reproach. “I’m about to go interview some witnesses; I was wondering if you wanted to come along. I’m trying to figure out if the deaths are being caused by a ghost or a cursed object.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to bring an angel along?” Cas asked. “Then there would be no uncertainty. You would simply know.”
Sam counted to ten. “That won’t be necessary, Cas.” Claire, still holding the door open, stepped on his good foot. “But if you feel compelled to come and talk to people you’re welcome to do so.” He glared at Claire.
She gave him a look of innocence. “So what’s different if it’s a cursed object versus a ghost?”
“Well, I don’t have a curse box with me,” Sam admitted.
“So we will call Dean and he will bring one from the bunker,” Cas said triumph radiating from his face. “This will please you both.”
Sam sighed. “Claire, can you give us a minute? Again?”
She had the good grace to look guilty this time as she went about going over to Sam’s room.
“You’re angry again,” Cas observed.
“You keep trying to force me and Dean back together.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest and tried to maintain his composure. “You know that’s not what I want. You know that’s not what he wants.”
“But I know that’s what you both need. He’s angry, about Charlie -“
“Who you were supposed to be guarding,” Sam pointed out.
Cas nodded. “I was. Sam, Dean is free of the Mark but he is still affected by his time with the Mark. He remembers that in his head, you were at fault for Charlie’s death and he never saw any reason to change that assessment. He still doesn’t. He won’t if he doesn’t have his brother around to counter those thoughts with love and devotion.”
“That hasn’t gotten me far before, Cas. We both know that the word ‘forgiveness’ isn’t in Dean’s vocabulary.” He hung his head.
“He has forgiven me much.”
“Not helping.”
Cas looked away. “This is not going well. Claire tells me that you believe that I have come here to monitor your behavior and performance and report back to Dean, and every time we speak I can see that I offend you. She also tells me that you’ve expressed some dangerous ideas -“
“Damn it,” Sam hissed.
“You’re angry again.”
Damn right I’m angry. Sam kept the words to himself, but couldn’t hold back the shake of his head. “I said that in confidence.”
“She was scared for you. She thinks you believe yourself to be a monster, Sam.” Cas stepped forward. “That you think that we believe - Dean and I - believe you to be a monster.”
“Don’t you?.” Sam met his eyes. “You said as much when you first met me. And what is it that you said I was? An abomination? Too unclean to even consider fighting the Whore of Babylon?”
“I’m sorry if it offended you.” He looked away.
“It’s not a matter of offending or not offending, Cas. It’s a matter of not getting my…” He rethought his words. “It’s a matter of knowing where I stand. I know better than to think I’m ever going to be anything but Dean’s screw-up little brother with you. And that’s - well, it is what it is. I can accept it. I can. But I’m not okay with you screwing around with me and pretending that there’s anything else going on. Okay? It’s all about Dean, and I get that.”
“Sam.” Cas sighed. “It’s not ‘all about Dean.’ I didn’t come here because of Dean. He didn’t order me to come, he didn’t even request that I come. I came because of my own concerns. I don’t think you should be alone.”
“I wasn’t alone. I was with Claire before you and Dean stuck your noses in.”
“Yes. Were you teaching her that taking on witches alone was a good idea?” Cas squinted his eyes at Sam.
“I wouldn’t have taken on the witch job if I’d been with Claire,” Sam told the angel. “I took on the witch job to get away from you and Dean.”
“You broke your leg to get away from me and Dean.” He shook his head. “If you’d stayed with us you wouldn’t have broken your leg.”
“It’s not like it’s the first broken bone I’ve gotten. I killed the witch, it’s fine, I can get shit done, you know. I know Dean keeps telling you I can’t, I know you have doubts about this yourself, but I can. And you know what? Whether or not you think I’m competent, I’m going to keep on hunting.” He watched as Castiel lifted his head up.
“But you hate hunting.”
“It’s not like I’m good for much else anymore.” Sam shrugged. “You know, I hadn’t even been looking to go solo when I got Jody’s call. I just wanted to make sure Claire was safe. But now that I’ve had space? There’s no way I can go back to being led around by the nose, sitting back and following Dean’s orders, and letting him take out his frustrations on me. I’m just not doing it.”
“Sam, he needs you,” Cas tried.
Sam took a deep breath. “Let him show me that he ‘needs’ me, then. Let him show me by treating me like an actual person and an equal. No more of ‘this is a dictatorship’ Dean. We got him back, he’s human again, that’s enough for me. He’s made his feelings perfectly clear, I’ll respect them, but I’m not going back.” He took a deep breath, surprised by how light he felt.
“He won’t do that, Sam. You know that.”
“He will if it means enough to him. For now, though, he’s got you.”
“Sam,” Cas said, and reached toward him. “It’s true that Dean and I have a special bond. It is.” He let his arm fall. “And I’ve let that… I’ve let that bond guide me in my relations with you. Angels are hierarchical, warrior angels more than others. We have a chain of command and we honor it. I’ve accepted that structure in your family and I thought you did too.”
Sam felt his mouth twist and fought it back. “Families aren’t supposed to be hierarchies. They aren’t. And again - I’m not going to sit here and try to waste both of our time trying to convince you that I’m right. I’m just the abomination, after all.”
“Sam,” Cas sighed, hanging his head.
“I’m also not going to be part of that. I’m just… I’m going to do the work. Out here, away from the whole toxic dynamic. I miss him, sure. I miss the way it used to be, when we could talk and laugh and joke and stuff. But he doesn’t want it to be that way anymore. He wants someone who will idolize him and jump to and say ‘yes sir.’ That ain’t me.”
“It could be.”
“No. It couldn’t.”
“He sees it as a betrayal,” Castiel tried.
Sam gave a little laugh. “He sees the way I brush my teeth as a betrayal, Cas. I can’t live up to those standards. Not even going to try. If he wants to hunt me still, let him. I won’t fight him. But I won’t submit, either.”
Sam started to walk away, but Cas put himself between himself and the door. “What’s all this about Dean hunting you, Sam? I understand the rest of it - I don’t agree, but I understand. This is nonsensical.”
Sam snorted. When Cas shook his head, Sam sighed. “He told me he was going to hunt me back when he got out of Hell. And then again right before… right before I killed Lilith. In a voice mail.”
Cas frowned. “He did not. I don’t know about the first incident, but he did not leave a threatening voice mail. He left you a message of love.”
“You’re full of shit, Cas. I’ve still got it on my phone.” Sam walked out, hands clenched into fists.
Claire was in his room when he got back. “This isn’t going to work out,” he told her. “I know you wanted it to be more… together-y, but I just can’t. Sorry. If you want to get away from Dean and Cas for a while but still want someone to back you up, you know how to reach me.”
Her face fell. She looked like she might cry. “Sam, wait. What’s wrong? What happened? I thought you guys would talk it out and be okay again!”
“Claire, the problem is that Cas and I were never close to begin with, okay? I went in there and he immediately came at me about working with Dean. Again. I just…” He shook his head. “He doesn’t get it, and I think he’s not going to. He doesn’t want to. He’s always going to be Dean’s friend first. His whole spiel was about how I need to stop going off on my own and stay with Dean because that’s what Dean needs, even when I pointed out that it’s harmful to me.” He shook his head. “I’ve got to go. I’m just going to go out to the island and figure out what’s going on. Don’t try this at home, okay?”
“Sam, that doesn’t sound safe.”
“I’ll be fine.” He waved to her as he took off for his car.
On the whole the job was kind of a letdown. Claire probably could have done it without too much of a problem - although there were parts, he guessed, that maybe would have been less simple if he hadn’t had decades of experience telling him things like setting up the pyre before finding the tether object when working alone was probably a good plan. And maybe the silence when there should have been laughter - like when he discovered that the tether object was in fact a chamber pot - was a little disheartening. Or a lot disheartening. But for the most part it was a job, just a job, like anyone else’s job. The most exciting part was trying to navigate on one leg, and it wasn’t even like that was too much of a novelty.
Afterward, he stole a rowboat from the emergency station and got himself back to shore in the dark. Then he drove down Route 7 for about half an hour until he got to Long Bottom, found a motel and crashed.
In the morning, he woke up and did as much of a workout as he could under the circumstances. Then he started looking for a new case. If he didn’t find work, if he didn’t have something to do, he would start to think about what had happened with Cas and Claire and Dean, and the last thing he wanted to do was to think about what had happened with Cas and Claire and Dean. She was better off with them. She was good - smart, normal, pure. She’d work out fine; they’d treat her like a person. Probably. If not, she had his number.
It looked like there might be something in Kentucky, down in the Daniel Boone State Forest. There had been a veritable explosion of overgrowth, coupled with an excess of couples being caught for lewd acts on the trail. Sam did a little bit of digging and it seemed like it might be the work of a trickster, although he wasn’t going to rule out fae or possibly some kind of god. It would take Sam about five or six hours to get down there; he could do that easily. In the meantime, he did a little bit of research and spent a little bit of time redistributing excessive CEO pay into some of his fraudulent bank accounts, via some transactions that would never get a second glance and wouldn’t be traceable to him even if they did.
The next day he drove down to Kentucky, where he spent some time interviewing witnesses. It took a while to get much out of them; funnily enough, people seemed to turn very red and stammer a lot when a tall, muscular man in a suit came and asked them about their public sex arrest. Eventually he managed to piece together a coherent story and determined that whatever he was dealing with hadn’t been seen directly by the people involved, but they’d definitely experienced something outside the realm of “normal.”
It occurred to him, as he prepared to head out to the forest, that he might have lucked out in not having a partner for this particular job. Everyone who had gotten busted for public sex had gone into the woods with a partner. They hadn’t always or even often been a romantic partner, but sex had taken place no matter what - and always in the overgrown areas of the trail, always with the people they’d gone into the woods with. By going solo, by being the solitary creature he’d become, Sam had made himself essentially immune.
He took off into the affected area, within the Red River Gorge trail system. It wasn’t hard to find an area that had been touched by the phenomenon; underbrush had spilled over to almost obscure the trail. Sam reached into his jacket, leaning on his crutches, and pulled out an ash stake.
Something rustled in the bushes behind him. He spun around on his good foot, stake at the ready, but it turned out to only be Castiel, crouching in the brush with a branch held over his face like some kind of very naive camouflage. “Cas!” he barked out, mouth dry and palms sweaty. “What are you doing here? It’s not safe for you to be here right now!”
“I came here to try to talk to you again,” the angel said. He licked his lips and Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away from his perfect, pink tongue. He wanted to taste that tongue. He wanted it wrapped around his own, or maybe better yet -
Sam shook his head to clear it. “It’s not safe for two people to be together right now!” he snapped. “Get out of here!”
Cas didn’t obey. He stepped closer. “I don’t want to get out of here,” he growled. “And you’re in no position to be giving me orders.”
Sam met the angel’s eyes, a growl rising. “You have no idea what you’re letting yourself in for,” he told Castiel. It wasn’t rage that brought the heat to his body or the undertone to his voice, although he hoped to all that was holy that Castiel didn’t realize that. With the influence of whatever god was doing all of this, Sam figured he was probably safe. “Get out of here and save yourself while you can.”
“I don’t want to.” Cas reached out jerkily and grabbed Sam’s face, bringing it down so he could force their lips together. His mouth tasted like ozone and rain, and Sam wanted all of it.
He pulled himself away, shoving Cas violently across the trail and away from the greenery just as a green figure stepped out of the forest. “Impressive,” the figure said. His accent sounded vaguely Welsh, if years of watching too much Torchwood were anything to go by. “No one’s ever been able to resist my influence before.”
“Practice,” Sam told him with a glare. “You want to tell me who you are and what you’re doing?”
The creature bowed. “The name is Viridos.”
Sam grimaced. “Verdure and virility. Got it. Sorry, buddy.” He hefted the stake.
“I’m not hurting anyone. A few people got arrested. And who do you think you are to raise a stake to me, puny mortal? Er, differently puny mortal?”
Cas cleared his throat, although he didn’t move his eyes from Sam’s face. “He’s Sam Fucking Winchester.”
The green man paled at the name. “Oh.”
“Right.” Sam launched himself forward on his crutches.
“I don’t suppose we could talk this out?” asked the god.
“What happens to your victims come fall?”
The god winced. “Well, the important thing is that I’m a cyclical god…”
Sam sprung. Viridos tried to dodge, but even on one aching leg Sam was too quick for him. He plunged the stake through the divinity’s ribcage, relishing the shockwave as wood crashed through so much more than mere bone and tissue.
He pulled back when the monster stopped moving, hauling himself back to his foot with nothing but his abdominal muscles. Taking a deep breath, he pushed his hair out of his eyes and blew out a sharp, explosive breath. Killing gods only looked easy.
The overwhelming desire to rip Cas’ clothes off subsided. He still wouldn’t mind, but it was no more than he usually felt. “How you doing there, Cas?” he asked.
The angel wouldn’t look at him. “You just killed a god.”
“Yeah. Well, all of those people were going to die come fall if I didn’t, so.” He shrugged and adjusted his crutches. “Let’s head back. They do get bears up in here; I’d rather not have a close encounter, you know?”
Cas flinched. “Of course.” He followed behind Sam and the pair made their way back to their cars together. The hike took about an hour since Sam was limited in his speed and mobility, and they passed the entire way in silence.
Claire, who had evidently been left back at the cars like some blonde repeat of Sam’s childhood, looked from man to man and shook her head. “Alright. You two are going to sit down and talk about whatever happened. No one is storming off. If I have to play referee then I will, but you should know that’s pretty stupid since I’m eighteen, you’re thirty-two and you’re like four billion.”
Sam wanted to correct her on his age, the centuries in the Cage still counted, but he decided against it. Why bother? It was still a drop in the bucket compared to Castiel. “You’re not going to quit, are you?” he asked with a sigh. “Okay. Fine.” He drove back to the motel, with the dreadful Caddy behind him. Claire got a second room for her and Castiel and locked Sam and Cas into Sam’s room while she went to wait out their conversation.
Sam sat down at the table and elevated his foot. “Sorry,” he winced. “Not trying to be rude.”
Cas frowned. “Are you in pain, Sam?”
“Well, I’ve been hiking on a broken leg, so yeah. It doesn’t exactly tickle.” He reached for the bottle of ibuprofen, but Cas put a hand on it.
“Why won’t you let me heal you?”
Sam blinked at him. “You haven’t offered, for one thing.”
Cas frowned. “I haven’t?”
“No.”
“Oh.” He looked away. “Why haven’t you asked?”
Sam sighed. “If you wanted to, you’d have offered.”
Cas hesitated. “Sam, may I heal your leg?”
Sam felt the corners of his mouth twitching, more or less against his conscious will. “Thanks.”
Sam felt a rush of warm, peaceful energy and then his leg felt fine. The cast even disappeared. “Thank you, Cas,” he said. He put the foot down.
“Thank you, Sam. I disliked seeing you in pain.” The angel sat down across from Sam. “I wanted to apologize for the incident in the woods today.”
Sam held up a hand. “It’s not your fault. That particular god compelled it. Don’t worry about it.”
Cas looked away again. “You were unaffected.”
“Not true. I knew what was going on - I’d done my research going into the fight. So I knew that they were just urges caused by outside influence. I’ve got a lot of practice fighting urges.” He smirked. “I guess addiction has some fringe benefits. Kind of like a silver lining.”
“I don’t understand that reference. But you were feeling something?”
“Cas.” Sam sighed. “Don’t get… weird about it, okay? It was the spell. Yes, I was fighting something but you don’t have anything to worry about. I can behave myself.”
“I enjoyed the kiss.”
Sam almost choked on his own tongue. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend you. I just wanted to make sure that there were no misunderstandings. I had come to try to explain - at Claire’s insistence - that I don’t care for you only because of Dean. And then I came under the god’s influence and I kissed you.”
Sam shook his head. “It was just because of the god, Cas. You don’t suddenly want to go kissing something like me.”
Cas slammed his hand down on the cheap table, making Sam jump. “You are not a thing, Sam Winchester. You are a man. A brilliant, brave and competent man. Who kisses well.”
“I need to research this, see if angels just suffer the effects for longer or if they get hit harder -“ Sam rose and tried to go for his books.
Cas stepped into his personal space. “I was jealous.”
“Of the god?”
“The woman.” Cas squinted at him. “I was jealous of the woman you shared your body with in Cleveland. I was angry when you said you wanted a connection so you sought out a stranger. I wanted to be your connection. I didn’t know you wanted that. I wanted to be that for you, but I didn’t know you wanted it.”
Sam staggered back, driving his thumb into his palm. “This isn’t real.”
It took a second for Cas to catch up. “This is very real. I cannot tolerate a situation where you do not understand my sentiments. It is fine if you do not share them but I need for you to understand them, Sam.”
“Cas, this isn’t right. You barely tolerate me.”
“I pulled Dean out of Hell on orders from Zachariah. I pulled you out of Hell because you should not have been allowed to suffer.” Hands sought out Sam’s hips and rested there, grounding him. “I would like to kiss you again.”
Sam felt a giggle rise in his chest and smothered it ruthlessly. “I don’t want to take advantage -“
Once again, Cas pulled Sam’s face down to his. This time, Sam didn’t fight. He let himself melt into the kiss and participate fully, hands cradling the angel’s face
Cas helped Sam off with his jacket before divesting himself of the trench coat. “You were very impressive against that pagan god today,” he told Sam, unbuttoning Sam’s outer shirt. “I was proud of you.”
Sam shrugged off the garment and helped Cas off with the white dress shirt that practically constituted his uniform. They both typically dressed to hide their bodies, or at least not to emphasize their physiques, but Cas had a pretty impressive body underneath the accountant suit. Sam kissed Cas again but only briefly, nuzzling along his neck from his earlobe down to his collarbone. “Really?”
“Oh yes.” Cas hands traced patterns on Sam’s chest that the hunter couldn’t quite follow. “You’re an amazing being, Sam Winchester. And right now, you’re mine.”
Sam couldn’t help the little shiver that went up his spine at the words.
Cas had the option, of course, of simply making their clothes disappear with a thought. He didn’t take it. Instead, he carefully peeled back the layers of Sam’s shirts until his torso was bare to the hyperactive air conditioning, seeming almost in awe of the hunter’s body as it was slowly revealed under his ministrations.
Sam pulled the angel in and kissed him again, needing the heat of Castiel’s body against the chill of the air. As their mouths joined, tongues tasting one another, Sam let his hands roam over the toned expanse of Cas’ body. He liked the feel of the angel’s neat, compact muscles and smooth arms, and as he moved his mouth down to Cas’ neck and collarbone he found that he loved the taste of Cas’ skin.
Cas knew what Sam felt like, of course. He’d re-built Sam from his component atoms up. He’d never have known that from the way that Cas explored him now. Those hands, which had smote without hesitation and healed so easily, now ran over Sam’s body almost greedily. Cas seemed to figure out pretty quickly that Sam liked to have his nipples played with, because Sam soon found himself with his head thrown back and giving a low hiss. “Right there,” he urged. “Just like that.”
The angel gave a little smirk, dipping one hand lower to stroke Sam’s hard cock through the outside of his jeans.
As Castiel urged Sam to lean back, helping him off with his jeans and taking him into his mouth, Sam had a moment of terror. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way that Castiel, Angel-of-the-Fricking-Lord, was here, going to town on his dick like it was some kind of Popsicle. (And where had he learned to do that, anyway?) There was no way Cas would want him, it had to be some kind of trick or ruse or hallucination.
Cas pulled off of him with a pop. “Sam?”
Sam blinked his way back to the present. “Yeah.”
“This is real. This is very real. I’m right here, I’m with you and I love you.”
Sam swallowed. Maybe this was a ruse, maybe it was a trick, but damn if it didn’t feel good right now. He pulled Cas into another kiss and fumbled for the lube and condoms, in the pocket of his duffel bag by the side of his bed.
Cas eyed the products and nodded, divesting himself of his own pants. Then, he slicked up two fingers and started to open Sam.
At some point, Sam needed to figure out where Cas had learned to do this, because he was very clearly not a novice. He patiently stretched Sam out while making sure to pay plenty of attention to his cock and nipples. It didn’t take Cas long to find Sam’s prostate either, making Sam cry out with pleasure. When Sam had been reduced to a panting, incoherent mess, Cas finally rolled a condom onto himself, slicked himself up and pressed into Sam.
It had been a long time since Sam had bottomed, longer still since he’d received any pleasure from it. He hadn’t forgotten how good it felt to be so full, not exactly, but feeling it again after so long was a revelation to say the least. “Cas!” he gasped.
“Are you alright?” the angel asked, tense with the effort of holding himself still.
“Better than.” Sam smiled then, hugely. “Just… you can move now.”
And Cas did.
They didn’t last long. They didn’t have to. Sam hadn’t ever been much of a clock-watcher anyway; people lasted as long as they lasted and as long as everyone felt good that was all that mattered. Cas did short-cut the cleanup process, waving a hand to clean them up before curling around Sam. The hunter kissed Castiel, gently this time, and fell asleep in his arms.
Back to Chapter Five -- On to Chapter Seven
Author: safiyabat
Artist: chasingparallax
Characters & Pairing(s): Sam/Castiel; Sam, Castiel, Claire, Dean
Rating: M
Word Count: 32,417 / 5,161 (chapter)
Warnings: show-level violence, depression. Explicit sexual content.
Summary: Sam has an encounter with the divine.
Claire returned about an hour after Cas left. “Since you’re alone I can only guess that it didn’t go well,” she said, flopping down into a chair.
He looked sharply up at her. “Define ‘well,’” he sighed.
She recovered quickly, he had to give her that much. He guessed she’d had to, out on the streets. “Well he’s not in here right now, is he? You’re not talking. What happened?”
Sam rubbed his temples. “He said he wanted… he said he would have found ‘partners’ for me if I wanted. I guess now I’m too incompetent to do that for myself too?” He raised his arms up at his sides and dropped them again. “I can honestly say that I have no clue what’s going on in his head.”
“I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean you can’t find your own hook-ups, Sam.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, the gesture far too old for her years. “Didn’t you say you once had a crush on him?”
“Sure, years ago. I’m over it, I promise.” It was a lie, but after all these years it slid easily off his tongue. “I told you us hunting together was a bad idea, Claire.”
“You hunted together for Dean, didn’t you?”
“We both love Dean. And trust me, there was plenty of tension there.”
She smirked. “I’ll bet.” She stood up. “I’ll go unruffle his feathers. You… do Sam things. I don’t know. Research. Whatever. I refuse to surrender.”
She ran out of the room and Sam stared at the blank laptop screen for a minute. Then he shook his head. Claire was probably trying to set him and Cas up or something. On the one hand he supposed that was sweet. She knew about his youthful crush and was trying to help out. On the other, she was trying to push something that Sam said he no longer wanted and that Castiel could never lower himself to contemplate.
A quick examination of the deaths that had brought them to Parkersburg showed some interesting commonalities between the victims. All of the victims were Mexican-American - not just Latin, but of Mexican extraction. They’d all been to the state park at Blennerhasset Island. And they’d all died from having their heart literally explode sometime after they’d returned to Parkersburg. “Deep in the heart of Texas,” Sam chuckled softly, clicking through the autopsy reports.
Assuming that they were dealing with a ghost, that strongly suggested that they were dealing with the spirit of Harman Blennerhassett, who had built the mansion that gave the state of West Virginia the excuse to build the park. He’d been imprisoned for treason in a plot that had probably been an attempt to wrest control of Texas away from Spain, the same plot in which Aaron Burr had been implicated, and the scandal had broken the colonist. It would certainly have given him a grudge, and it would be enough to tether him to the world of the living.
The blatant racism was certainly true to his period too.
Still, the possibility that they were dealing with a cursed object couldn’t be discounted. The only way to figure it out would be to interview the witnesses directly and then visit the site. He went to grab Claire in the other room, only to find her deep in conversation with Castiel.
“He acts like I do not know him, like I’ve never been there for him,” he heard Cas telling Claire. “Why would he feel this way? I pulled him out of the Cage!”
Half of me, Sam thought viciously. And then you let me twist, knowing that you’d botched the job. Followed by making sure I’d be a liability to Dean forever, which wasn’t even about me. But hey, who’s bitter?
He checked himself for the thoughts. They weren’t productive. Instead, he knocked on the door. “Hey, Claire,” he greeted when she opened the door. He ignored Cas’ look of reproach. “I’m about to go interview some witnesses; I was wondering if you wanted to come along. I’m trying to figure out if the deaths are being caused by a ghost or a cursed object.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to bring an angel along?” Cas asked. “Then there would be no uncertainty. You would simply know.”
Sam counted to ten. “That won’t be necessary, Cas.” Claire, still holding the door open, stepped on his good foot. “But if you feel compelled to come and talk to people you’re welcome to do so.” He glared at Claire.
She gave him a look of innocence. “So what’s different if it’s a cursed object versus a ghost?”
“Well, I don’t have a curse box with me,” Sam admitted.
“So we will call Dean and he will bring one from the bunker,” Cas said triumph radiating from his face. “This will please you both.”
Sam sighed. “Claire, can you give us a minute? Again?”
She had the good grace to look guilty this time as she went about going over to Sam’s room.
“You’re angry again,” Cas observed.
“You keep trying to force me and Dean back together.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest and tried to maintain his composure. “You know that’s not what I want. You know that’s not what he wants.”
“But I know that’s what you both need. He’s angry, about Charlie -“
“Who you were supposed to be guarding,” Sam pointed out.
Cas nodded. “I was. Sam, Dean is free of the Mark but he is still affected by his time with the Mark. He remembers that in his head, you were at fault for Charlie’s death and he never saw any reason to change that assessment. He still doesn’t. He won’t if he doesn’t have his brother around to counter those thoughts with love and devotion.”
“That hasn’t gotten me far before, Cas. We both know that the word ‘forgiveness’ isn’t in Dean’s vocabulary.” He hung his head.
“He has forgiven me much.”
“Not helping.”
Cas looked away. “This is not going well. Claire tells me that you believe that I have come here to monitor your behavior and performance and report back to Dean, and every time we speak I can see that I offend you. She also tells me that you’ve expressed some dangerous ideas -“
“Damn it,” Sam hissed.
“You’re angry again.”
Damn right I’m angry. Sam kept the words to himself, but couldn’t hold back the shake of his head. “I said that in confidence.”
“She was scared for you. She thinks you believe yourself to be a monster, Sam.” Cas stepped forward. “That you think that we believe - Dean and I - believe you to be a monster.”
“Don’t you?.” Sam met his eyes. “You said as much when you first met me. And what is it that you said I was? An abomination? Too unclean to even consider fighting the Whore of Babylon?”
“I’m sorry if it offended you.” He looked away.
“It’s not a matter of offending or not offending, Cas. It’s a matter of not getting my…” He rethought his words. “It’s a matter of knowing where I stand. I know better than to think I’m ever going to be anything but Dean’s screw-up little brother with you. And that’s - well, it is what it is. I can accept it. I can. But I’m not okay with you screwing around with me and pretending that there’s anything else going on. Okay? It’s all about Dean, and I get that.”
“Sam.” Cas sighed. “It’s not ‘all about Dean.’ I didn’t come here because of Dean. He didn’t order me to come, he didn’t even request that I come. I came because of my own concerns. I don’t think you should be alone.”
“I wasn’t alone. I was with Claire before you and Dean stuck your noses in.”
“Yes. Were you teaching her that taking on witches alone was a good idea?” Cas squinted his eyes at Sam.
“I wouldn’t have taken on the witch job if I’d been with Claire,” Sam told the angel. “I took on the witch job to get away from you and Dean.”
“You broke your leg to get away from me and Dean.” He shook his head. “If you’d stayed with us you wouldn’t have broken your leg.”
“It’s not like it’s the first broken bone I’ve gotten. I killed the witch, it’s fine, I can get shit done, you know. I know Dean keeps telling you I can’t, I know you have doubts about this yourself, but I can. And you know what? Whether or not you think I’m competent, I’m going to keep on hunting.” He watched as Castiel lifted his head up.
“But you hate hunting.”
“It’s not like I’m good for much else anymore.” Sam shrugged. “You know, I hadn’t even been looking to go solo when I got Jody’s call. I just wanted to make sure Claire was safe. But now that I’ve had space? There’s no way I can go back to being led around by the nose, sitting back and following Dean’s orders, and letting him take out his frustrations on me. I’m just not doing it.”
“Sam, he needs you,” Cas tried.
Sam took a deep breath. “Let him show me that he ‘needs’ me, then. Let him show me by treating me like an actual person and an equal. No more of ‘this is a dictatorship’ Dean. We got him back, he’s human again, that’s enough for me. He’s made his feelings perfectly clear, I’ll respect them, but I’m not going back.” He took a deep breath, surprised by how light he felt.
“He won’t do that, Sam. You know that.”
“He will if it means enough to him. For now, though, he’s got you.”
“Sam,” Cas said, and reached toward him. “It’s true that Dean and I have a special bond. It is.” He let his arm fall. “And I’ve let that… I’ve let that bond guide me in my relations with you. Angels are hierarchical, warrior angels more than others. We have a chain of command and we honor it. I’ve accepted that structure in your family and I thought you did too.”
Sam felt his mouth twist and fought it back. “Families aren’t supposed to be hierarchies. They aren’t. And again - I’m not going to sit here and try to waste both of our time trying to convince you that I’m right. I’m just the abomination, after all.”
“Sam,” Cas sighed, hanging his head.
“I’m also not going to be part of that. I’m just… I’m going to do the work. Out here, away from the whole toxic dynamic. I miss him, sure. I miss the way it used to be, when we could talk and laugh and joke and stuff. But he doesn’t want it to be that way anymore. He wants someone who will idolize him and jump to and say ‘yes sir.’ That ain’t me.”
“It could be.”
“No. It couldn’t.”
“He sees it as a betrayal,” Castiel tried.
Sam gave a little laugh. “He sees the way I brush my teeth as a betrayal, Cas. I can’t live up to those standards. Not even going to try. If he wants to hunt me still, let him. I won’t fight him. But I won’t submit, either.”
Sam started to walk away, but Cas put himself between himself and the door. “What’s all this about Dean hunting you, Sam? I understand the rest of it - I don’t agree, but I understand. This is nonsensical.”
Sam snorted. When Cas shook his head, Sam sighed. “He told me he was going to hunt me back when he got out of Hell. And then again right before… right before I killed Lilith. In a voice mail.”
Cas frowned. “He did not. I don’t know about the first incident, but he did not leave a threatening voice mail. He left you a message of love.”
“You’re full of shit, Cas. I’ve still got it on my phone.” Sam walked out, hands clenched into fists.
Claire was in his room when he got back. “This isn’t going to work out,” he told her. “I know you wanted it to be more… together-y, but I just can’t. Sorry. If you want to get away from Dean and Cas for a while but still want someone to back you up, you know how to reach me.”
Her face fell. She looked like she might cry. “Sam, wait. What’s wrong? What happened? I thought you guys would talk it out and be okay again!”
“Claire, the problem is that Cas and I were never close to begin with, okay? I went in there and he immediately came at me about working with Dean. Again. I just…” He shook his head. “He doesn’t get it, and I think he’s not going to. He doesn’t want to. He’s always going to be Dean’s friend first. His whole spiel was about how I need to stop going off on my own and stay with Dean because that’s what Dean needs, even when I pointed out that it’s harmful to me.” He shook his head. “I’ve got to go. I’m just going to go out to the island and figure out what’s going on. Don’t try this at home, okay?”
“Sam, that doesn’t sound safe.”
“I’ll be fine.” He waved to her as he took off for his car.
On the whole the job was kind of a letdown. Claire probably could have done it without too much of a problem - although there were parts, he guessed, that maybe would have been less simple if he hadn’t had decades of experience telling him things like setting up the pyre before finding the tether object when working alone was probably a good plan. And maybe the silence when there should have been laughter - like when he discovered that the tether object was in fact a chamber pot - was a little disheartening. Or a lot disheartening. But for the most part it was a job, just a job, like anyone else’s job. The most exciting part was trying to navigate on one leg, and it wasn’t even like that was too much of a novelty.
Afterward, he stole a rowboat from the emergency station and got himself back to shore in the dark. Then he drove down Route 7 for about half an hour until he got to Long Bottom, found a motel and crashed.
In the morning, he woke up and did as much of a workout as he could under the circumstances. Then he started looking for a new case. If he didn’t find work, if he didn’t have something to do, he would start to think about what had happened with Cas and Claire and Dean, and the last thing he wanted to do was to think about what had happened with Cas and Claire and Dean. She was better off with them. She was good - smart, normal, pure. She’d work out fine; they’d treat her like a person. Probably. If not, she had his number.
It looked like there might be something in Kentucky, down in the Daniel Boone State Forest. There had been a veritable explosion of overgrowth, coupled with an excess of couples being caught for lewd acts on the trail. Sam did a little bit of digging and it seemed like it might be the work of a trickster, although he wasn’t going to rule out fae or possibly some kind of god. It would take Sam about five or six hours to get down there; he could do that easily. In the meantime, he did a little bit of research and spent a little bit of time redistributing excessive CEO pay into some of his fraudulent bank accounts, via some transactions that would never get a second glance and wouldn’t be traceable to him even if they did.
The next day he drove down to Kentucky, where he spent some time interviewing witnesses. It took a while to get much out of them; funnily enough, people seemed to turn very red and stammer a lot when a tall, muscular man in a suit came and asked them about their public sex arrest. Eventually he managed to piece together a coherent story and determined that whatever he was dealing with hadn’t been seen directly by the people involved, but they’d definitely experienced something outside the realm of “normal.”
It occurred to him, as he prepared to head out to the forest, that he might have lucked out in not having a partner for this particular job. Everyone who had gotten busted for public sex had gone into the woods with a partner. They hadn’t always or even often been a romantic partner, but sex had taken place no matter what - and always in the overgrown areas of the trail, always with the people they’d gone into the woods with. By going solo, by being the solitary creature he’d become, Sam had made himself essentially immune.
He took off into the affected area, within the Red River Gorge trail system. It wasn’t hard to find an area that had been touched by the phenomenon; underbrush had spilled over to almost obscure the trail. Sam reached into his jacket, leaning on his crutches, and pulled out an ash stake.
Something rustled in the bushes behind him. He spun around on his good foot, stake at the ready, but it turned out to only be Castiel, crouching in the brush with a branch held over his face like some kind of very naive camouflage. “Cas!” he barked out, mouth dry and palms sweaty. “What are you doing here? It’s not safe for you to be here right now!”
“I came here to try to talk to you again,” the angel said. He licked his lips and Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away from his perfect, pink tongue. He wanted to taste that tongue. He wanted it wrapped around his own, or maybe better yet -
Sam shook his head to clear it. “It’s not safe for two people to be together right now!” he snapped. “Get out of here!”
Cas didn’t obey. He stepped closer. “I don’t want to get out of here,” he growled. “And you’re in no position to be giving me orders.”
Sam met the angel’s eyes, a growl rising. “You have no idea what you’re letting yourself in for,” he told Castiel. It wasn’t rage that brought the heat to his body or the undertone to his voice, although he hoped to all that was holy that Castiel didn’t realize that. With the influence of whatever god was doing all of this, Sam figured he was probably safe. “Get out of here and save yourself while you can.”
“I don’t want to.” Cas reached out jerkily and grabbed Sam’s face, bringing it down so he could force their lips together. His mouth tasted like ozone and rain, and Sam wanted all of it.
He pulled himself away, shoving Cas violently across the trail and away from the greenery just as a green figure stepped out of the forest. “Impressive,” the figure said. His accent sounded vaguely Welsh, if years of watching too much Torchwood were anything to go by. “No one’s ever been able to resist my influence before.”
“Practice,” Sam told him with a glare. “You want to tell me who you are and what you’re doing?”
The creature bowed. “The name is Viridos.”
Sam grimaced. “Verdure and virility. Got it. Sorry, buddy.” He hefted the stake.
“I’m not hurting anyone. A few people got arrested. And who do you think you are to raise a stake to me, puny mortal? Er, differently puny mortal?”
Cas cleared his throat, although he didn’t move his eyes from Sam’s face. “He’s Sam Fucking Winchester.”
The green man paled at the name. “Oh.”
“Right.” Sam launched himself forward on his crutches.
“I don’t suppose we could talk this out?” asked the god.
“What happens to your victims come fall?”
The god winced. “Well, the important thing is that I’m a cyclical god…”
Sam sprung. Viridos tried to dodge, but even on one aching leg Sam was too quick for him. He plunged the stake through the divinity’s ribcage, relishing the shockwave as wood crashed through so much more than mere bone and tissue.
He pulled back when the monster stopped moving, hauling himself back to his foot with nothing but his abdominal muscles. Taking a deep breath, he pushed his hair out of his eyes and blew out a sharp, explosive breath. Killing gods only looked easy.
The overwhelming desire to rip Cas’ clothes off subsided. He still wouldn’t mind, but it was no more than he usually felt. “How you doing there, Cas?” he asked.
The angel wouldn’t look at him. “You just killed a god.”
“Yeah. Well, all of those people were going to die come fall if I didn’t, so.” He shrugged and adjusted his crutches. “Let’s head back. They do get bears up in here; I’d rather not have a close encounter, you know?”
Cas flinched. “Of course.” He followed behind Sam and the pair made their way back to their cars together. The hike took about an hour since Sam was limited in his speed and mobility, and they passed the entire way in silence.
Claire, who had evidently been left back at the cars like some blonde repeat of Sam’s childhood, looked from man to man and shook her head. “Alright. You two are going to sit down and talk about whatever happened. No one is storming off. If I have to play referee then I will, but you should know that’s pretty stupid since I’m eighteen, you’re thirty-two and you’re like four billion.”
Sam wanted to correct her on his age, the centuries in the Cage still counted, but he decided against it. Why bother? It was still a drop in the bucket compared to Castiel. “You’re not going to quit, are you?” he asked with a sigh. “Okay. Fine.” He drove back to the motel, with the dreadful Caddy behind him. Claire got a second room for her and Castiel and locked Sam and Cas into Sam’s room while she went to wait out their conversation.
Sam sat down at the table and elevated his foot. “Sorry,” he winced. “Not trying to be rude.”
Cas frowned. “Are you in pain, Sam?”
“Well, I’ve been hiking on a broken leg, so yeah. It doesn’t exactly tickle.” He reached for the bottle of ibuprofen, but Cas put a hand on it.
“Why won’t you let me heal you?”
Sam blinked at him. “You haven’t offered, for one thing.”
Cas frowned. “I haven’t?”
“No.”
“Oh.” He looked away. “Why haven’t you asked?”
Sam sighed. “If you wanted to, you’d have offered.”
Cas hesitated. “Sam, may I heal your leg?”
Sam felt the corners of his mouth twitching, more or less against his conscious will. “Thanks.”
Sam felt a rush of warm, peaceful energy and then his leg felt fine. The cast even disappeared. “Thank you, Cas,” he said. He put the foot down.
“Thank you, Sam. I disliked seeing you in pain.” The angel sat down across from Sam. “I wanted to apologize for the incident in the woods today.”
Sam held up a hand. “It’s not your fault. That particular god compelled it. Don’t worry about it.”
Cas looked away again. “You were unaffected.”
“Not true. I knew what was going on - I’d done my research going into the fight. So I knew that they were just urges caused by outside influence. I’ve got a lot of practice fighting urges.” He smirked. “I guess addiction has some fringe benefits. Kind of like a silver lining.”
“I don’t understand that reference. But you were feeling something?”
“Cas.” Sam sighed. “Don’t get… weird about it, okay? It was the spell. Yes, I was fighting something but you don’t have anything to worry about. I can behave myself.”
“I enjoyed the kiss.”
Sam almost choked on his own tongue. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend you. I just wanted to make sure that there were no misunderstandings. I had come to try to explain - at Claire’s insistence - that I don’t care for you only because of Dean. And then I came under the god’s influence and I kissed you.”
Sam shook his head. “It was just because of the god, Cas. You don’t suddenly want to go kissing something like me.”
Cas slammed his hand down on the cheap table, making Sam jump. “You are not a thing, Sam Winchester. You are a man. A brilliant, brave and competent man. Who kisses well.”
“I need to research this, see if angels just suffer the effects for longer or if they get hit harder -“ Sam rose and tried to go for his books.
Cas stepped into his personal space. “I was jealous.”
“Of the god?”
“The woman.” Cas squinted at him. “I was jealous of the woman you shared your body with in Cleveland. I was angry when you said you wanted a connection so you sought out a stranger. I wanted to be your connection. I didn’t know you wanted that. I wanted to be that for you, but I didn’t know you wanted it.”
Sam staggered back, driving his thumb into his palm. “This isn’t real.”
It took a second for Cas to catch up. “This is very real. I cannot tolerate a situation where you do not understand my sentiments. It is fine if you do not share them but I need for you to understand them, Sam.”
“Cas, this isn’t right. You barely tolerate me.”
“I pulled Dean out of Hell on orders from Zachariah. I pulled you out of Hell because you should not have been allowed to suffer.” Hands sought out Sam’s hips and rested there, grounding him. “I would like to kiss you again.”
Sam felt a giggle rise in his chest and smothered it ruthlessly. “I don’t want to take advantage -“
Once again, Cas pulled Sam’s face down to his. This time, Sam didn’t fight. He let himself melt into the kiss and participate fully, hands cradling the angel’s face
Cas helped Sam off with his jacket before divesting himself of the trench coat. “You were very impressive against that pagan god today,” he told Sam, unbuttoning Sam’s outer shirt. “I was proud of you.”
Sam shrugged off the garment and helped Cas off with the white dress shirt that practically constituted his uniform. They both typically dressed to hide their bodies, or at least not to emphasize their physiques, but Cas had a pretty impressive body underneath the accountant suit. Sam kissed Cas again but only briefly, nuzzling along his neck from his earlobe down to his collarbone. “Really?”
“Oh yes.” Cas hands traced patterns on Sam’s chest that the hunter couldn’t quite follow. “You’re an amazing being, Sam Winchester. And right now, you’re mine.”
Sam couldn’t help the little shiver that went up his spine at the words.
Cas had the option, of course, of simply making their clothes disappear with a thought. He didn’t take it. Instead, he carefully peeled back the layers of Sam’s shirts until his torso was bare to the hyperactive air conditioning, seeming almost in awe of the hunter’s body as it was slowly revealed under his ministrations.
Sam pulled the angel in and kissed him again, needing the heat of Castiel’s body against the chill of the air. As their mouths joined, tongues tasting one another, Sam let his hands roam over the toned expanse of Cas’ body. He liked the feel of the angel’s neat, compact muscles and smooth arms, and as he moved his mouth down to Cas’ neck and collarbone he found that he loved the taste of Cas’ skin.
Cas knew what Sam felt like, of course. He’d re-built Sam from his component atoms up. He’d never have known that from the way that Cas explored him now. Those hands, which had smote without hesitation and healed so easily, now ran over Sam’s body almost greedily. Cas seemed to figure out pretty quickly that Sam liked to have his nipples played with, because Sam soon found himself with his head thrown back and giving a low hiss. “Right there,” he urged. “Just like that.”
The angel gave a little smirk, dipping one hand lower to stroke Sam’s hard cock through the outside of his jeans.
As Castiel urged Sam to lean back, helping him off with his jeans and taking him into his mouth, Sam had a moment of terror. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way that Castiel, Angel-of-the-Fricking-Lord, was here, going to town on his dick like it was some kind of Popsicle. (And where had he learned to do that, anyway?) There was no way Cas would want him, it had to be some kind of trick or ruse or hallucination.
Cas pulled off of him with a pop. “Sam?”
Sam blinked his way back to the present. “Yeah.”
“This is real. This is very real. I’m right here, I’m with you and I love you.”
Sam swallowed. Maybe this was a ruse, maybe it was a trick, but damn if it didn’t feel good right now. He pulled Cas into another kiss and fumbled for the lube and condoms, in the pocket of his duffel bag by the side of his bed.
Cas eyed the products and nodded, divesting himself of his own pants. Then, he slicked up two fingers and started to open Sam.
At some point, Sam needed to figure out where Cas had learned to do this, because he was very clearly not a novice. He patiently stretched Sam out while making sure to pay plenty of attention to his cock and nipples. It didn’t take Cas long to find Sam’s prostate either, making Sam cry out with pleasure. When Sam had been reduced to a panting, incoherent mess, Cas finally rolled a condom onto himself, slicked himself up and pressed into Sam.
It had been a long time since Sam had bottomed, longer still since he’d received any pleasure from it. He hadn’t forgotten how good it felt to be so full, not exactly, but feeling it again after so long was a revelation to say the least. “Cas!” he gasped.
“Are you alright?” the angel asked, tense with the effort of holding himself still.
“Better than.” Sam smiled then, hugely. “Just… you can move now.”
And Cas did.
They didn’t last long. They didn’t have to. Sam hadn’t ever been much of a clock-watcher anyway; people lasted as long as they lasted and as long as everyone felt good that was all that mattered. Cas did short-cut the cleanup process, waving a hand to clean them up before curling around Sam. The hunter kissed Castiel, gently this time, and fell asleep in his arms.
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