Fic: Prisoner of Love (9/?)
MASTERPOST / AO3
Chapter summary: C. S. Lewis wrote: "To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken."
A/N: Kudos to everyone who has read and reviewed the previous chapter. I have to say they were quite unexpected. To quote Castiel himself, "his life was never that simple," and for that I send my sincere apologies to all of you.
This chapter is un-beta'd, so please forgive my mistakes.
~:~:~
Dean couldn't deny he had been thinking about it - about leaving this place. For the year that he had been serving his time here, he never once thought of leaving; never saw the reason to. Sam was better off without him, a fact he hated to admit on his good days. On his bad days, he would be seething, blaming the-ass hats-that-be, who left him to rot in this rat shit's place. But now? Now he couldn't stop his mind from drifting away to a long, winding road appearing before his Baby's windshield, with Cas riding shotgun, his hair a pitiful mess as blowing wind rifled through every strand of it; Dean drumming to his favorite tune on the steering wheel.
There was so much in the world he wanted Cas to see. He wanted to show him their favorite burger joints he and Sam had discovered along the way on their road trips. Dean wanted to share with him the best, the boring and the ugliest moments of his life. What he did not want was keeping their distance in public and keeping their voices low in private. That was no way to live a life.
Above all, he wanted them to make love like they meant it - not fully clothed with typical blowjobs and frottage in a cage that smelled like swine's piss on a mattress that never saw the light of day. Dean toyed with Cas' fingers even more nervously when he thought of what Cas had asked of him last night. He wanted him. Cas wanted him. As Dean's finger moved along the creek of those beautiful buns, Cas' baby blue eyes blazed with desire, and fear, and trust. Dean was flattered at how Cas wanted him to be his first, but this was no way to make love.
"Cas," Dean said, bringing Cas' hands up to kiss at the knuckles. He was beyond nervous. What he was going to say, to Dean, was nothing short of a proposal. No man in his sensible mind would propose if he was not sure the answer would be a yes. And Dean was pretty sure it would be a yes. Who wouldn't want to live a free life outside the cage?
"Let's get out of here," he blurted.
He would never admit it even if he were put on a torturing machine, that he had dreamed of the moment he would propose to a girl (or a boy, as it turned out). Said girl would beam out a yes and throw her arms around his neck and kiss him hard. But, as it happened, Cas looked lost, as if he didn't hear what Dean had said properly.
"What?" Cas asked absent-mindedly. His head tilted feebly to one side and his forehead subtly furrowed.
Dean tried to force a smile on his lips but failed. This was not the reaction he expected. He was thrown off and had no idea how to deal with it. "I said, let's get out of here, Cas," he fumbled for something to say; the rest just followed incoherently. "I can find a way for us to leave this place. We can go and live anywhere we want and start a new life together. We don't have to-"
"I'm not leaving," Cas cut him off, harshly pulling his hands away from Dean's grip, as if Dean was a disgusting bed of worms. Cas sat right up on the bed, frustrated.
Dean instantly sat up after him. "What?" he croaked out for a lack of a more proper word to form. He tried to grab Cas' arm, but Cas jolted out of it and got out of bed, backing away from him.
"I'm not leaving, Dean," he said. His body started to tremble as he curled his arms protectively around himself. "You may leave me if you wish."
"Whoa, Cas, I'm not leaving you." Dean inched closer, cautiously reaching out a hand in an attempt to calm him down. "I'm taking you with me. We're leaving together."
Cas shook his head, waving his hand frantically in front of him. "I'm not leaving. That is never an option."
"If you're worried about getting caught," Dean said, gripping Cas by the elbow to steady him, but Cas drew it away.
"I won't tell anyone," Cas said, not letting Dean finish his sentence. He circled around Dean back to bed and started throwing one pillow and one blanket back to the top bunk. "If you no longer wish to stay here, with me, you are free to go."
"I'm not leaving here without you," Dean wailed. He felt like crying. He only wanted them to be happy together, now he was kicked out like a stray dog. How did everything go so terribly wrong?
Cas turned around to look at him sternly in the eyes. "I believe this conversation is over," he said. Then he settled on his bed. Sitting back against the wall, Cas drew his knees up and wrapped his arms tightly around them as if to collect himself. Dean's heart broke as he finally gave up and climbed back up the top bed that had been neglected for God knows how long.
~:~:~
Cas dreamed again, causing him to whimper slightly. The pitiful sound being emitted from the bed below woke Dean and captured his attention. Cas made more keening noises and swiftly Dean was on the floor, next to the lower bed. He tentatively slotted his palm with Cas', who took it in an instant. Cas started to toss and let out broken cries, gripping his hand so tight Dean thought his bones might break. When Cas' writhes turned more violent, breaking in sweat as he called out Anna's name, Dean jumped up onto the bed, slid himself down next to the guy and wrapped his arms around him.
"Shh…" Dean shushed the nightmare-teeming guy, kissing the crown of his head and pulling him into a tighter embrace. "I'm here, Cas. I'm here."
Cas whimpered some more and Dean ran consoling strokes along his back, shushing him with soothing nonsense. Slowly Cas stopped making noises and went still in his arms; a tear drop slipped through the corner of his eye, leaving a glimmering trail down his cheek.
He was so fucked up, Dean thought, as he leaned his head back on the pillow, not moving a muscle of his limbs that wrapped tightly around Cas. All this time, he had been thinking - fantasizing - about their lives in the outside world, when the only one that mattered was right here with him, at this very moment, in this very place. Who the fuck cared where they were or what kind of people they were surrounded with, as long as they had each other? Cas was happy. He was happy, and his dick headed-self had to go and ruin everything.
Dean stayed like that until dawn broke, brightening up the sky. That was when he removed himself from the clingy angel. He tugged Cas under the blanket before climbing back to his own bed, saying to himself he would never let go of his light again.
~:~:~
"God, Dean, you look like shit." Sam winced as soon as Dean stepped into the visiting room. Dean skipped the usual greeting hug because he might not know if he looked like shit or not, but he certainly felt like one.
"Thanks for the butter, Sammy," Dean muttered under his breath.
"You alright, Dean?" Sam asked and Dean mentally rolled his eyes at Sam's bitch face No. 14 that said he was incessantly (and unnecessarily) worried about him. "Sorry I took a while to get back to you. Jo got caught up in her case and it wasn't until recently that we could go down to California and catch up on Castiel's case."
Dean waved his hand dismissively. Cas hadn't been bothered by his dreams lately and Dean had been so happy he didn't give much thought about anything else.
Seeing no other response, Sam brought out two case files. He flipped one open. "This is Castiel's case file, as you have already seen it," Sam explained. Dean winced upon seeing those horrendous crime photos again. He quickly shifted his gaze to the other file, which Sam flipped open next. "This is the file Jo got for me of Castiel's parents' murder case."
"Holy hell-"
Even a crude person like Dean was lost for words at what he saw. The angles might be different, but the scenes were unmistakably identical. Dean was going to be sick. He heaved dryly. Lucky for him he didn't eat anything for breakfast because he had been in too foul a mood for that.
Sam suddenly flipped both files close, and for once Dean was grateful Sam didn't make fun of him because of it. "I'm sorry, Dean," Sam said softly.
Dean raked his brain for an alternative to the word he did not want to say, but he was not sure where his brain was anymore. In the end, he gave up, staring helplessly at the scrap metal disguised as a table.
"We should stop here," Sam stated.
"No." Dean jerked his head up. "I'm fine," he said wearily. "Just go on with it, please?"
Sam nodded. "So, Jo and I went to California," he continued. "Anna no longer works at the restaurant. Business was good so Hester, her friend who has been helping Anna run the restaurant ever since Castiel left, continued to run it for her. Anna herself moved to stay at her parents' cabin house.
"When we reached there, we were greeted by Missouri and Rufus, an old couple who have been working with the Milton family for a long time. Anna was," Sam paused. "She was in no state to receive any guests. That's what we were told at first. She had lost her juices, Dean, totally zoning out, claiming she hears angels talking and stuff."
"What the fuck?" Dean burst out. "Cas' sister is nuts?"
"She wasn't always like this." Sam glared daggers at him. Dean had the decency to look sheepish. "According to Missouri, Anna and Castiel had been very close since they were young, but their relationship started to strain when Castiel got married and it didn't get any better after the divorce. Their parents' death only tore them further apart, and Anna snapped when she learned of Castiel's crime."
Dean whistled. That was one hell of a dramatic story. "Why don't they put her away or something?" Dean asked.
"Castiel insists that they keep her there," Sam replied with another glare which Dean could only respond with a shrug and a voiceless 'what?' "Hester sends a monthly stipend from the money she makes at the restaurant to cover expenses."
"Guess she keeps the rest," Dean snorted.
"Nobody can use it anyway," Sam chipped in. "Castiel is locked up here. Anna is locked up in her own mind."
Dean's smugness became frail at that. He couldn't imagine how he would take it if he had to be locked up here knowing Sam was off being a mushy potato somewhere out there. Suddenly he understood why Cas wanted his sister to stay at home, and thought himself an idiot.
"Dean," Sam called him in a stern voice, and Dean knew it was time to face the inevitable. "Right now Jo is looking up whether there are similar crimes in other states. You know what it means if the results come up positive, right?"
Dean swallowed the bitter bile in his throat. He felt like throwing up again. Of course he knew what it meant. He just didn't have the guts to admit it.
"It can't be," Dean denied. "There is too much difference in the victimology."
"It's too early to tell," Sam countered, and Dean had to rub his face, hard, sighing wearily because he knew damn well Sam was right.
"If he is really a serial killer-"
"He is not!" Dean snapped, smashing the sorry excuse of a table with a loud bang, causing everyone in the room to jump and crane their necks their way.
Sam raised his palms up in defeat. In no time everyone turned their attention back to their business. Sam didn't say anything further. Dean guessed Sam was waiting for him to cool down, but he couldn't stop smoldering inside.
"I'll talk to him," Dean muttered after a long silence.
"You're going to talk to a se-"
In a split second, Dean was across the table, grabbing Sam's lapel tight in his hands. "I swear to God, Sam," Dean hissed.
"What, Dean?" Sam didn't budge, his gaze remained unwavered by Dean's wrath. "I'm only trying to help you here."
Dean let go of Sam with a huff. Sam didn't even pretend to straighten the creases Dean made on his suit jacket. His posture was set straight when he said, "This man is going to be the death of you, Dean, and I'm not speaking in a figurative sense."
"Shut up."
"You don't see how blind you are, but I do," Sam hissed. "If you think I'll let that man hurt you in anyway-"
Dean abruptly stood up. "Give me my burger. I'm leaving."
"I'm not finished, Dean!" Sam retorted.
But Dean didn't care. He was not going to hear any more hateful words from Sam, who hadn't even met the guy. Sam had no right to judge him.
Dean walked over to grab Sam's messenger bag, successfully dodging Sam's protest and fishing his burger out of it. He tucked it under his shirt and stormed out of the visiting room, not even checking to see if any prison guard was looking.
~:~:~
The metal gate was shut after the last schedule of the day. It was at least hours before lights would be out for the night, but Cas already stretched out on his stomach, back to the rest of the room.
Dean sat down on the mattress; the additional weight caused it to shift, but Cas didn't so much as stir.
"Cas," he began, uncertain of what kind of response he would receive. "We need to talk."
The word left an unpalatable taste in his mouth. Dean Winchester did not do talking. But, hell, he would kill his way to get his angel back. What would a little talk matter?
Cas was still. If Dean didn't just see Cas duck into the lower bed, he might have thought he was speaking to a log. Dean let out a quiet sigh. At least Cas didn't kick him away. He would take that as a good sign. "I'm not leaving," Dean said firmly.
Cas still did not move. Dean almost missed the heave in Cas' chest. A shallow rise and fall of his torso that might mean nothing, but Dean could hardly conceal a sigh of relief and curl on the corner of his lips. He carefully placed his hand on the curve of Cas' back, and Cas did not shrink.
"If you want to be here, then I'll stay here with you," he continued. His fingers traced small circles where he touched. He felt Cas' breath hitch. "Until we grow old and wrinkles cover your skin, not mine, because I don't wrinkle." Dean chuckled to himself. "And your bones creak every time you move because you are so o-old." He dragged out the last word teasingly.
"We won't last that long, Dean." Cas sat up all of a sudden. His face was still wet with recent tears. Dean cupped Castiel's cheek and wiped them with his thumb.
"Then I'll be with you as long as you live," he said gently; meaning every single word.
Cas nuzzled a side of his face into Dean's palm. Brimming tears ran down his cheek, the moment Cas closed his eyes. Dean gulped down the pain in his chest, knowing full well how badly he had hurt the person he had sworn to protect.
With one free hand, Dean offered the burger he had gotten from Sam this morning. "Truce?" he asked with a sheepish raise of his brow.
Cas opened his eyes and paused for a moment, as if he was deciphering what it was he just saw in Dean's hand. Then he cracked a smile, grabbing the burger and balancing it in his hands.
Dean leaned in to whisper, "The best burger-"
"The best burger in the state, I know," Cas chorused with a timid smile, and, Dean thought, if Cas made him blush any more than he did now, he might just as well put on makeup and start wearing lacy dresses.
Cas unwrapped the paper and neatly refolded it into an easy-to-eat half-wrap. Then he passed the burger back to Dean. "There's only one," he said.
Dean blinked, stunned. "Well, it's for you." He didn't even intend to eat it. It was true Sam may have brought it for him, but since he thought of giving it to Cas, he didn't even crave his favorite food anymore.
"We can share," Cas insisted.
"After you, then," Dean smiled, ruffling Cas' hair. His boyfriend was so cute. And Dean had to blush again because Cas was not a five-year-old to be used the word cute on and most definitely not his boyfriend. Well, not officially anyway.
Cas took a small bite and passed it to Dean who wolfed down a big chunk. That was how you ate burgers, if you asked him.
"Did Sam come to visit you again?" Cas asked after he finished swallowing the food he was chewing.
"Yeah," Dean answered over a mouth full of bread and meat.
"How is he doing?" Cas asked before taking another small bite. He passed the burger again to Dean, who took it and left it at that. At this rate, he would finish it before Cas could really taste anything.
"Good, I guess." Well, Dean didn't actually ask, seeing they were busy fighting over the fact that Cas was a se-or not; definitely not. This reminded Dean what they needed to talk about. Talk, yuck. "You didn't have any visitors?" he asked, passing the burger back to Cas.
"Well, my family is in California," was the only thing Cas offered. Castiel took another bite, then stared into space, munching slowly.
Dean was going to push further when he heard footsteps approaching. "Someone's coming," he whispered, nudging Cas to hide the food. Cas quickly hid it under his pillow. Then they resumed acting like they were only talking and nothing more.
"Winchester!"
His name was called while the metal gate was banged loudly with a club. Dean turned to see a prison guard named Britton. He must have been doing his off-routine check. The guy was a total douche.
"Sir," Dean replied as he got up to hide Cas behind his back. Britton liked everyone to call him Sir. Dean did it more as sarcasm.
"Do I smell food in here?" He bellowed, nose crinkling as he sniffed the air.
That bastard must have the olfactory sense of a dog. "Could be, sir," Dean replied smugly. He could hear Cas gasp from behind him. "I just farted."
Cas snorted and Dean barely managed to stop himself from cracking up.
"You think it's funny?" Britton bawled. He hit the metal bar again with his club, causing another annoying clang to pierce through the hall. "Milton!"
"No, Sir." Cas slowly appeared from behind him. Dean could see he tried hard to keep himself straight-faced. "He just farted in my face. There is nothing funny about it, Sir."
Oh God. Dean could hardly contain the air that threatened to breathe nosily out his nose in amusement. Luckily, Britton was not amused and he quickly moved to find his entertainment elsewhere.
Both of them burst out laughing as soon as they heard the douche-guard bang the gate of another cell. Dean's body bent in half as he clenched his stomach tight. He had forgotten that laughing hard did hurt, but he couldn't stop it.
"I farted in your face, huh?" Dean's voice went an octave higher as he tried to wheeze it out before collapsing into another laughing fit.
Cas grinned happily from ear to ear, something Dean never saw before. "Well, your ass was right in front of my face, so, yeah, I guess?"
Dean dissolved in another laugher before it died down to faint chuckles. He clasped a hand on Cas' shoulder and wiped tears from the corners of his eyes with another one. "It's been years since I laughed this hard."
Cas returned a smile that warmed up the whole place, down to his soul. It suddenly felt suffocating, because he was utterly happy. Dean Winchester did not deserve to be happy.
"So, uh," Dean cleared his throat; his face was still flushed hot. "You're going to finish that burger?"
Cas turned to retrieve the burger from under his pillow and, when he turned back, straight away offered it to Dean.
Dean took another big chunk of it because who would have thought laughing hard could drain this much energy. He passed it back to Cas, saying, "I'm done. You can finish it."
Cas nibbled his burger. A feverish pink hue was still apparent on his face. "I thought every guard is Dean-friendly?" he asked between bites.
"Well, you can't make everyone like you." Dean shrugged. "Speaking of, don't do that again, okay?"
"Do what?" Cas asked. His innocent eyes looked up to Dean while he tossed the last bite into his mouth. He rolled the wrapping paper into a ball and threw it in the trash can across the room.
"Defy the authorities. Don't get yourself into trouble. If anyone wrongs you, just let me know. I'll take care of it."
While it was funny, Dean had to admit, it wasn't very wise. It was true not everyone was Dean-friendly, all the more reasons not to step on anyone's toes.
"Cas?" Dean called. Castiel looked somewhat absent after hearing Dean's reply.
Shuddering slightly, Cas cautiously uttered in a low voice, "Can I ask you something?"
Dean gave a nod of consent.
"Is it true that you killed the previous shut call?"
Dean froze. The question hit him like a biting gust of wind, never welcomed in snow-covered terrains. "Who told you that?"
Cas bit his lower lip and lowered his gaze. His fingers fidgeted with the bed sheet, but he did not give any reply.
"Who?" As far as Dean knew, and his knowledge was undeniably vast, the only two people Cas talked to were Chuck and Gabriel. They had no reason to talk to Cas about that. The thought of Cas talking to someone else, behind his back, was enough to send Dean mad.
"Someone," Cas mumbled, almost inaudible.
"Which someone?" Dean pressed, agitated.
Cas was silent for a few moments more. Then he heaved a sigh before breathing out, "Nick."
"Nick as in Lucifer?" Dean squawked. He felt a sudden sharp pain drilling in his head. "How did you even talk to the guy?" Not to mention they were on a first-name basis!
"Well, he works in laundry," Cas replied self-consciously.
"Don't listen to him." Dean rolled his eyes. Of all people, Cas must be chitty-chatty with the last person on earth Dean wanted him to converse with. "He is a monster!"
"He said the same thing about you," Cas mumbled again. His eyes looked in every direction except Dean.
"And you believe him?" Dean wailed. His head was now throbbing as he imagined countless conversations Cas and Lucifer had and other venomous lies the Devil had been spitting on him. His skull felt like rupturing at the thought of Cas keeping hundred other secrets that Dean did not know.
"You didn't answer my question," Cas stated pointedly.
Infuriated, Dean groaned, "Did he also tell you that Alastair was a very cruel man?"
Castiel went still. His gaze slowly lifted up to Dean's.
"Guess not," Dean snorted. "Everyone's life is better without him, Cas."
Tilting his head to one side, Cas looked into his eyes. "So you did kill him."
The fuck was it that Cas had to know whether he had killed Alastair or not! It was not something he could blurt out to anyone even if he did it!
The raging flame was making Dean woozy. Dean bent down to hold both of Cas' hands in his. The warmth from them instantly grounded Dean. His rage gradually subsided and his voice softened as he asked, "Would you hate me if I said I did?"
Cas shifted his gaze down at their joined hands, clearly deep in thoughts. "I also killed someone," he uttered admittedly after a long halt. "Doesn't mean it's the right thing to do"
"Of course not," Dean agreed. "That's why we're doing penance here."
Cas lightly nodded.
Dean took the opportunity to continue his intended conversation before he was interrupted by that douche-guard. "You said your parents were murdered, right? Did they catch the murderer?"
Cas shook his head. He kept staring down at Dean's thumb that was now brushing up and down the back of his hand.
"Wanna tell me about it?" Dean asked. He dipped his head lower to catch Cas' gaze, which followed him up as he straightened back.
Cas grabbed Dean's hands a little tighter and Dean could see uncertainty and fear flicker in those ocean-blue eyes. "It's okay, Cas." Dean gave those hands a reassuring squeeze. Cas never gave details on his parents' death before. It was understandable considering the nature of the crime. "I'm here whenever you're ready."
Taking a deep breath, Cas held on to Dean's hands more securely before he began, "Anna and I…" He trailed off again. Dean could see how difficult this was for Cas so Dean let him continue at his own pace.
"Anna and I were driving to our parents' house one evening," Cas blurted. "It was a long drive and it was late at night when my car broke down in the middle of nowhere." Cas paused. He started to fidget where he sat. "It took us hours to get help. When we finally reached our parents', it was already dawn. We walked into the house and they were…" Cas' voice broke at this point. A single tear ran down his face as Cas looked at Dean with an unspoken plea, blue eyes quivering with fright. Dean reached up to wipe his cheek, but it seemed to cause Cas to break down. Cas cried out in a flood of tears, "They wouldn't have died if I had checked my stupid car, Dean!"
Instantly Dean pulled Cas in his arms, shushing him. "You don't know that. You could have died too."
Dean closed his eyes in hope that it would make the horrible images of the crime scene go away. There was no doubt Cas would have died a horrible death had he been there that night, but Cas didn't seem to see it that way. He understood how Cas felt, completely. The weight of failing to save people you loved, he shouldered it with him every single day.
Cas buried his face on Dean's shoulder, his arms holding on to Dean tight. Dean let him cry until it slowed down to quiet sobs. His soaked shirt plastered against his skin, a tangible evidence of guilt draining an anguished soul.
"Most days I wish I was dead," Cas murmured.
Dean felt like someone had just hammered his heart with an ice pick: precise and deadly. But he'd rather have that than a life without Cas.
"Don't say that," Dean mumbled against Cas' temple as he rocked both of them gently back and forth, securing the sobbing mess in his arms.
Cas sniffled. He was now having difficulty breathing because his nose had become stuffy. Dean reached over to grab a tissue paper. Cas sat back to clean his face.
"My life has never been the same since then," he said, throwing the used paper away. His voice was still nasal.
Suddenly it dawned on him. "Is that why you've been having nightmares?" Dean asked.
Cas looked numb with shock. "What?" he breathed with an incredulous frown.
"I said, is that why-"
"How do you know about the nightmares?" Cas cut in sharply.
Dean opened his mouth to speak. Then shut it. It was a mistake - his mistake - that ensued a simple realization. How could he tell Cas that he knew because he heard him cry in distress every night?
Cas looked as if his entire existence had crumbled to the ground. His eyes widened in what Dean could not tell if it was fear or pain. "How long have you known this?" He asked in a cracked voice.
Really, how would he answer that question?
"You've known all along, haven't you?" Cas started to shake. He looked as if he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. "Oh God," he groaned, pressing his palms on this temples, backing away from the bed. "It all makes sense now."
Dean stepped out of bed cautiously. "Cas?"
Cas looked up to Dean, arms dropped to both sides of him. Another tear drop rolled down his face. "You never wanted me. I'm just a charity case to you, aren't I?"
"What?" Dean cried in disbelief. He'd rather have his chest ripped open than have Cas thinking Dean never wanted him. "What are you saying?"
Cas stomped back to the bed and, to Dean's horror, snatched the 'Muscle Car' book from under the mattress and threw it on the floor. The thick book dropped with a dull thud as Cas glowered at Dean.
Really, how would Dean explain why he had a handbook for a partner of a rape victim?
"Cas," Dean called, his voice not short of begging. He reached out to catch Cas by the arm, but it was harshly pulled away.
"Don't touch me!" Cas bawled.
Dean tried to get hold of Cas again, but before he knew it, he was shoved face-first onto the mattress. His right arm was tightly twisted behind his back, his wrist sprained at a dangerous angle under Cas' weight. Dean grunted in pain. He had taught his student too well.
"I'm so mad I can break your wrist right now," Cas hissed behind Dean's ear. "I will regret it, but that's for another time."
The howl was deafening in his ears when Cas pressed a little further. Then he let Dean go, leaving him nursing his injured wrist. Dean felt tears pricking his eyes and choked it back.
Cas sat on the bed, bracing his back against the wall. He drew his knees up and he leaned against the bars at the foot of the beds, his gaze unseeing out of their cell.
The main lights were out. Dean fumbled for whatever he could find to make a makeshift splint for his wrist. He would wait until tomorrow to have it looked at. Right now he sat himself down the other side of the room, facing the bed. Cas glanced at him briefly then closed his eyes, as if the sight of Dean was too excruciating to bear.
~:~:~
Dean opened his eyes at the familiar whimpering sound. For a fleeting moment he didn't register why he was on the floor. Then Cas whimpered again and Dean was promptly on his feet.
Cas was still curled at the foot of the bed. It must be uncomfortable sleeping in a sitting position but he had been too stubborn to move. Dean sighed, thinking back at how so many things had happened the last few days - how so many things had changed. A few things he did he was sorry for, more things he regretted. He wondered if he could turn back time to when he and Cas had been happy, to when things unsaid had remained unsaid.
Cas squirmed again and this time Dean did not wait until Cas called out Anna's name. He sat next to the sleeping man and pulled him into his arms. Cas mewled as Dean gently placed Cas' head on his shoulder.
"Shh...I'm here, baby," Dean comforted him.
Cas whined weakly and nestled against Dean. Soon his breathing became slow and heavy. Dean leaned his head on his tousled dark hair, letting tears slide down his face for the first time.
~:~:~
Dean noted how everyone stole glances at his wrist, now neatly swathed in bandages. He had visited the infirmary and was relieved to learn that nothing was broken. A few puffs of pain relief spray were helpful, though. Couldn't say it didn't hurt.
But if a glower could kill, Dean was certain he would have been dead, repeatedly, by now. After the alarm went off this morning, Dean tried to approach Cas again, only to be greeted with a death glare. Dean instinctively cradled his wrist, and mentally told himself to back off before he got the other one injured as well.
It was all too familiar, the fuming hatred Cas carried with him everywhere he went. Dean had seen it before, the days after Dean stopped assaulting him - those nights when Cas was plagued by the nightmares. Cas would become aggressive, surrounded by a bubble of resentment, hitting anything he could the first chance he got. Worst of all, there was this sense of aversion towards him, as if Cas couldn't hate anything more than he did Dean. He remembered those times well. He just never thought he would live to see it again.
There had been passing thoughts, back then, that Cas was being subject to mood swings because he was afflicted by those troubled dreams. But now that Cas didn't have them - Dean was very certain of it - why would Cas still anoint him his adversary, Dean had no idea.
Or maybe that was the cause. Now that Cas had learned there was a way to have a peaceful sleep without having to have sex with Dean, Cas became outraged. Perhaps Cas regretted those nights spent in bed with him, bare naked for him, mewing and begging Dean to bring him to his orgasm.
Dean shuddered at the thought. He never once questioned what they had between them, but now he felt cheap and used. It made perfect sense now why Cas never so much as touched him, let alone asked him to take off his clothes.
Cas never wanted him. He only used Dean to get rid of his nightmares.
There was now a new feeling inside of Dean - a boiling fury bubbling hot and dense and ready to explode like an active volcano. It certainly didn't help when someone approached him.
"What do you want, Andy?" Dean barked.
"Whoa, calm down, mate." Andy quickly took a step back, hands rising in front of him. "I just have something to tell you. Thought you might want to know"
"What is it?" He felt itchy to break some bones if it appeared to be something he did not want to know.
"Did you know Castiel requested for a cell change?"
"He what?" Dean bawled.
"He requested for a cell-"
Next thing Dean knew, Andy was against the wall, locked by Dean's arm that was only a hairsbreadth away from crushing his windpipe. "If you're fucking messing with me," Dean hissed. The inside of his head was now spinning and his vision hazy.
"No, Dean," Andy croaked. "I wouldn't dare."
Dean ruthlessly let go of him. Andy fell to the floor, coughing. "I saw the document, Dean, on Crowley's desk. He signed it; effective immediately."
Incensed, Dean paced the room. Cas requested for a cell change. He wanted to leave Dean, and all this time Dean had been thinking about spending the rest of his life with him-
Dean stopped and hauled Andy to his feet. "Do you know where he was reassigned to?" When Andy hesitated, Dean snarled, "Which cell?"
Andy stammered, "Lucifer's"
Dean tossed the other inmate to the floor. Cas was fucking leaving to be with Lucifer. Dean couldn't process that. His head was killing him. How could he- How would he-
"Where is he?" Dean growled.
Not getting any answers, Dean shouted into Andy's confused face, "Where the fuck is he!"
"In the kitchen," Andy spluttered. "I just saw him in the kitchen."
~:~:~
When Dean reached the kitchen, he saw Cas sitting at the far end of the room. There was no mistaking that body even though Cas had his back to him. Dean was half-way through when someone approached Cas.
Lucifer
The bastard walked right into Cas' personal space and he fucking placed his hand on Cas' back and Cas didn't even flinch! Dean saw red. The two seemed to be talking in a hushed voice. Cas looked up to the standing guy, the hand on his back making steady movement up and down. When Cas turned to his tea (how the hell did he get tea in here?), the Devil tilted his face Dean's way and smirked.
That son of a bitch just smirked at him! Dean was so furious he could rip open a mother cow with his bare hands right now. Then Lucifer leaned down to whisper something into Cas' ear, and sniffed his hair. That foolish dope just let a pervert sniff his hair! How could Cas be so clueless! Unless he let the dick do it on purpose-
Dean yanked Cas from the chair once Lucifer was gone.
"What the hell, Dean?" Cas wailed, wrenching his arm away from Dean's tight grip.
"Yeah, what the hell, Cas?" Dean scoffed. "What the hell did I just see?"
When Cas returned nothing but a glare, Dean continued, "Is that why you won't leave the laundry room, huh? So you can have him grope you by day and me by night?" Dean sneered. Cas was practically shaking now; his hands clenched into fists. Like Dean cared. He wouldn't make the same mistake as getting caught off-guard again. He could dodge Cas' punch, anytime. "You little slut," he spat.
What Dean did not expect was a gush of warm tea streaming down his head.
"Enjoy your tea, Dean," Cas said through gritted teeth. Tepid infusion dripped from Dean's hair, leaving bitter taste on his lips. The cup shattered into tiny pieces on the floor. Cas' entire body trembled as he stormed away.
"Cas!"
~:~:~
The metal gate was slid shut and Cas was still nowhere to be seen. Dean hadn't thought 'effective immediately' would mean, you know, in effect, like, today. But what the hell, Cas could go groping with his favorite concubine twenty-four seven now, for all Dean cared.
Lights out and Dean curled himself in the lower bed, hugging the blanket because it was warm and it smelled like Cas. He was pathetic as fuck, daydreaming of serving Cas breakfast in bed when all Cas ever wanted was to be locked up here with- Dean couldn't even stand thinking of that name anymore. He never saw it coming, and here he was, thinking he had everything in control. So much for being a shut call.
Dean buried his face in the pillow, hoping to soothe the stinging burn in his eyes. There was no way in hell he was going to cry while Cas was out there giggling somewhere. It was just a stupid, stubborn pain in his chest that refused to dull away. He had endured much worse. He wouldn't fall apart because of a heart wrung out, squashed, bloody and pulpy, and thrown right back into his face.
Dean sniffled. No, it was just the cool air. His body didn't need the warmth beside him. He had a blanket for that - two, actually, now that he was alone in this cell. Sam would be happy to hear that he didn't have a cellmate anymore. Dean would make sure it stayed that way. If they ever fucking put anyone with him again, he would break their nose, and maybe a few fingers - a few limbs if needed be - to guarantee that his new cellmate would be sent to an outside hospital and never returned.
He would not fall for anyone again. Dean Winchester had thrown his squashed heart to the depths of hell and no amount of angels raiding siege there would be able to raise it from perdition. The ghost of him roaming this dungeon would slowly decay and eventually perish, ferrying his damned soul from one misery to the other.
"Dean!"
Dean jumped to his feet. He wasn't hallucinating. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. But why would Cas call his name in a frightened voice?
He leaped to the gate, clutching the metal bars, straining his ears but he didn't hear anything.
"Cas?" Dean hollered.
"Dean, help me! I'm in Lucifer's cage."
Dean rested his forehead on the cold barrier. He might have been broken, but they were so fucking wrong to think he was going to endure any sick joke.
"Of course, you are," Dean said with a snort. "You requested a cell change, remember?"
Cas went silent and Dean gave out a quiet sigh of alleviation, thinking maybe those fuckers would just leave him be now.
"Dean!" Cas shouted back again, his voice completely terrified. "I didn't file the request!"
~:~:~
Chapter summary: C. S. Lewis wrote: "To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken."
A/N: Kudos to everyone who has read and reviewed the previous chapter. I have to say they were quite unexpected. To quote Castiel himself, "his life was never that simple," and for that I send my sincere apologies to all of you.
This chapter is un-beta'd, so please forgive my mistakes.
~:~:~
Dean couldn't deny he had been thinking about it - about leaving this place. For the year that he had been serving his time here, he never once thought of leaving; never saw the reason to. Sam was better off without him, a fact he hated to admit on his good days. On his bad days, he would be seething, blaming the-ass hats-that-be, who left him to rot in this rat shit's place. But now? Now he couldn't stop his mind from drifting away to a long, winding road appearing before his Baby's windshield, with Cas riding shotgun, his hair a pitiful mess as blowing wind rifled through every strand of it; Dean drumming to his favorite tune on the steering wheel.
There was so much in the world he wanted Cas to see. He wanted to show him their favorite burger joints he and Sam had discovered along the way on their road trips. Dean wanted to share with him the best, the boring and the ugliest moments of his life. What he did not want was keeping their distance in public and keeping their voices low in private. That was no way to live a life.
Above all, he wanted them to make love like they meant it - not fully clothed with typical blowjobs and frottage in a cage that smelled like swine's piss on a mattress that never saw the light of day. Dean toyed with Cas' fingers even more nervously when he thought of what Cas had asked of him last night. He wanted him. Cas wanted him. As Dean's finger moved along the creek of those beautiful buns, Cas' baby blue eyes blazed with desire, and fear, and trust. Dean was flattered at how Cas wanted him to be his first, but this was no way to make love.
"Cas," Dean said, bringing Cas' hands up to kiss at the knuckles. He was beyond nervous. What he was going to say, to Dean, was nothing short of a proposal. No man in his sensible mind would propose if he was not sure the answer would be a yes. And Dean was pretty sure it would be a yes. Who wouldn't want to live a free life outside the cage?
"Let's get out of here," he blurted.
He would never admit it even if he were put on a torturing machine, that he had dreamed of the moment he would propose to a girl (or a boy, as it turned out). Said girl would beam out a yes and throw her arms around his neck and kiss him hard. But, as it happened, Cas looked lost, as if he didn't hear what Dean had said properly.
"What?" Cas asked absent-mindedly. His head tilted feebly to one side and his forehead subtly furrowed.
Dean tried to force a smile on his lips but failed. This was not the reaction he expected. He was thrown off and had no idea how to deal with it. "I said, let's get out of here, Cas," he fumbled for something to say; the rest just followed incoherently. "I can find a way for us to leave this place. We can go and live anywhere we want and start a new life together. We don't have to-"
"I'm not leaving," Cas cut him off, harshly pulling his hands away from Dean's grip, as if Dean was a disgusting bed of worms. Cas sat right up on the bed, frustrated.
Dean instantly sat up after him. "What?" he croaked out for a lack of a more proper word to form. He tried to grab Cas' arm, but Cas jolted out of it and got out of bed, backing away from him.
"I'm not leaving, Dean," he said. His body started to tremble as he curled his arms protectively around himself. "You may leave me if you wish."
"Whoa, Cas, I'm not leaving you." Dean inched closer, cautiously reaching out a hand in an attempt to calm him down. "I'm taking you with me. We're leaving together."
Cas shook his head, waving his hand frantically in front of him. "I'm not leaving. That is never an option."
"If you're worried about getting caught," Dean said, gripping Cas by the elbow to steady him, but Cas drew it away.
"I won't tell anyone," Cas said, not letting Dean finish his sentence. He circled around Dean back to bed and started throwing one pillow and one blanket back to the top bunk. "If you no longer wish to stay here, with me, you are free to go."
"I'm not leaving here without you," Dean wailed. He felt like crying. He only wanted them to be happy together, now he was kicked out like a stray dog. How did everything go so terribly wrong?
Cas turned around to look at him sternly in the eyes. "I believe this conversation is over," he said. Then he settled on his bed. Sitting back against the wall, Cas drew his knees up and wrapped his arms tightly around them as if to collect himself. Dean's heart broke as he finally gave up and climbed back up the top bed that had been neglected for God knows how long.
~:~:~
Cas dreamed again, causing him to whimper slightly. The pitiful sound being emitted from the bed below woke Dean and captured his attention. Cas made more keening noises and swiftly Dean was on the floor, next to the lower bed. He tentatively slotted his palm with Cas', who took it in an instant. Cas started to toss and let out broken cries, gripping his hand so tight Dean thought his bones might break. When Cas' writhes turned more violent, breaking in sweat as he called out Anna's name, Dean jumped up onto the bed, slid himself down next to the guy and wrapped his arms around him.
"Shh…" Dean shushed the nightmare-teeming guy, kissing the crown of his head and pulling him into a tighter embrace. "I'm here, Cas. I'm here."
Cas whimpered some more and Dean ran consoling strokes along his back, shushing him with soothing nonsense. Slowly Cas stopped making noises and went still in his arms; a tear drop slipped through the corner of his eye, leaving a glimmering trail down his cheek.
He was so fucked up, Dean thought, as he leaned his head back on the pillow, not moving a muscle of his limbs that wrapped tightly around Cas. All this time, he had been thinking - fantasizing - about their lives in the outside world, when the only one that mattered was right here with him, at this very moment, in this very place. Who the fuck cared where they were or what kind of people they were surrounded with, as long as they had each other? Cas was happy. He was happy, and his dick headed-self had to go and ruin everything.
Dean stayed like that until dawn broke, brightening up the sky. That was when he removed himself from the clingy angel. He tugged Cas under the blanket before climbing back to his own bed, saying to himself he would never let go of his light again.
~:~:~
"God, Dean, you look like shit." Sam winced as soon as Dean stepped into the visiting room. Dean skipped the usual greeting hug because he might not know if he looked like shit or not, but he certainly felt like one.
"Thanks for the butter, Sammy," Dean muttered under his breath.
"You alright, Dean?" Sam asked and Dean mentally rolled his eyes at Sam's bitch face No. 14 that said he was incessantly (and unnecessarily) worried about him. "Sorry I took a while to get back to you. Jo got caught up in her case and it wasn't until recently that we could go down to California and catch up on Castiel's case."
Dean waved his hand dismissively. Cas hadn't been bothered by his dreams lately and Dean had been so happy he didn't give much thought about anything else.
Seeing no other response, Sam brought out two case files. He flipped one open. "This is Castiel's case file, as you have already seen it," Sam explained. Dean winced upon seeing those horrendous crime photos again. He quickly shifted his gaze to the other file, which Sam flipped open next. "This is the file Jo got for me of Castiel's parents' murder case."
"Holy hell-"
Even a crude person like Dean was lost for words at what he saw. The angles might be different, but the scenes were unmistakably identical. Dean was going to be sick. He heaved dryly. Lucky for him he didn't eat anything for breakfast because he had been in too foul a mood for that.
Sam suddenly flipped both files close, and for once Dean was grateful Sam didn't make fun of him because of it. "I'm sorry, Dean," Sam said softly.
Dean raked his brain for an alternative to the word he did not want to say, but he was not sure where his brain was anymore. In the end, he gave up, staring helplessly at the scrap metal disguised as a table.
"We should stop here," Sam stated.
"No." Dean jerked his head up. "I'm fine," he said wearily. "Just go on with it, please?"
Sam nodded. "So, Jo and I went to California," he continued. "Anna no longer works at the restaurant. Business was good so Hester, her friend who has been helping Anna run the restaurant ever since Castiel left, continued to run it for her. Anna herself moved to stay at her parents' cabin house.
"When we reached there, we were greeted by Missouri and Rufus, an old couple who have been working with the Milton family for a long time. Anna was," Sam paused. "She was in no state to receive any guests. That's what we were told at first. She had lost her juices, Dean, totally zoning out, claiming she hears angels talking and stuff."
"What the fuck?" Dean burst out. "Cas' sister is nuts?"
"She wasn't always like this." Sam glared daggers at him. Dean had the decency to look sheepish. "According to Missouri, Anna and Castiel had been very close since they were young, but their relationship started to strain when Castiel got married and it didn't get any better after the divorce. Their parents' death only tore them further apart, and Anna snapped when she learned of Castiel's crime."
Dean whistled. That was one hell of a dramatic story. "Why don't they put her away or something?" Dean asked.
"Castiel insists that they keep her there," Sam replied with another glare which Dean could only respond with a shrug and a voiceless 'what?' "Hester sends a monthly stipend from the money she makes at the restaurant to cover expenses."
"Guess she keeps the rest," Dean snorted.
"Nobody can use it anyway," Sam chipped in. "Castiel is locked up here. Anna is locked up in her own mind."
Dean's smugness became frail at that. He couldn't imagine how he would take it if he had to be locked up here knowing Sam was off being a mushy potato somewhere out there. Suddenly he understood why Cas wanted his sister to stay at home, and thought himself an idiot.
"Dean," Sam called him in a stern voice, and Dean knew it was time to face the inevitable. "Right now Jo is looking up whether there are similar crimes in other states. You know what it means if the results come up positive, right?"
Dean swallowed the bitter bile in his throat. He felt like throwing up again. Of course he knew what it meant. He just didn't have the guts to admit it.
"It can't be," Dean denied. "There is too much difference in the victimology."
"It's too early to tell," Sam countered, and Dean had to rub his face, hard, sighing wearily because he knew damn well Sam was right.
"If he is really a serial killer-"
"He is not!" Dean snapped, smashing the sorry excuse of a table with a loud bang, causing everyone in the room to jump and crane their necks their way.
Sam raised his palms up in defeat. In no time everyone turned their attention back to their business. Sam didn't say anything further. Dean guessed Sam was waiting for him to cool down, but he couldn't stop smoldering inside.
"I'll talk to him," Dean muttered after a long silence.
"You're going to talk to a se-"
In a split second, Dean was across the table, grabbing Sam's lapel tight in his hands. "I swear to God, Sam," Dean hissed.
"What, Dean?" Sam didn't budge, his gaze remained unwavered by Dean's wrath. "I'm only trying to help you here."
Dean let go of Sam with a huff. Sam didn't even pretend to straighten the creases Dean made on his suit jacket. His posture was set straight when he said, "This man is going to be the death of you, Dean, and I'm not speaking in a figurative sense."
"Shut up."
"You don't see how blind you are, but I do," Sam hissed. "If you think I'll let that man hurt you in anyway-"
Dean abruptly stood up. "Give me my burger. I'm leaving."
"I'm not finished, Dean!" Sam retorted.
But Dean didn't care. He was not going to hear any more hateful words from Sam, who hadn't even met the guy. Sam had no right to judge him.
Dean walked over to grab Sam's messenger bag, successfully dodging Sam's protest and fishing his burger out of it. He tucked it under his shirt and stormed out of the visiting room, not even checking to see if any prison guard was looking.
~:~:~
The metal gate was shut after the last schedule of the day. It was at least hours before lights would be out for the night, but Cas already stretched out on his stomach, back to the rest of the room.
Dean sat down on the mattress; the additional weight caused it to shift, but Cas didn't so much as stir.
"Cas," he began, uncertain of what kind of response he would receive. "We need to talk."
The word left an unpalatable taste in his mouth. Dean Winchester did not do talking. But, hell, he would kill his way to get his angel back. What would a little talk matter?
Cas was still. If Dean didn't just see Cas duck into the lower bed, he might have thought he was speaking to a log. Dean let out a quiet sigh. At least Cas didn't kick him away. He would take that as a good sign. "I'm not leaving," Dean said firmly.
Cas still did not move. Dean almost missed the heave in Cas' chest. A shallow rise and fall of his torso that might mean nothing, but Dean could hardly conceal a sigh of relief and curl on the corner of his lips. He carefully placed his hand on the curve of Cas' back, and Cas did not shrink.
"If you want to be here, then I'll stay here with you," he continued. His fingers traced small circles where he touched. He felt Cas' breath hitch. "Until we grow old and wrinkles cover your skin, not mine, because I don't wrinkle." Dean chuckled to himself. "And your bones creak every time you move because you are so o-old." He dragged out the last word teasingly.
"We won't last that long, Dean." Cas sat up all of a sudden. His face was still wet with recent tears. Dean cupped Castiel's cheek and wiped them with his thumb.
"Then I'll be with you as long as you live," he said gently; meaning every single word.
Cas nuzzled a side of his face into Dean's palm. Brimming tears ran down his cheek, the moment Cas closed his eyes. Dean gulped down the pain in his chest, knowing full well how badly he had hurt the person he had sworn to protect.
With one free hand, Dean offered the burger he had gotten from Sam this morning. "Truce?" he asked with a sheepish raise of his brow.
Cas opened his eyes and paused for a moment, as if he was deciphering what it was he just saw in Dean's hand. Then he cracked a smile, grabbing the burger and balancing it in his hands.
Dean leaned in to whisper, "The best burger-"
"The best burger in the state, I know," Cas chorused with a timid smile, and, Dean thought, if Cas made him blush any more than he did now, he might just as well put on makeup and start wearing lacy dresses.
Cas unwrapped the paper and neatly refolded it into an easy-to-eat half-wrap. Then he passed the burger back to Dean. "There's only one," he said.
Dean blinked, stunned. "Well, it's for you." He didn't even intend to eat it. It was true Sam may have brought it for him, but since he thought of giving it to Cas, he didn't even crave his favorite food anymore.
"We can share," Cas insisted.
"After you, then," Dean smiled, ruffling Cas' hair. His boyfriend was so cute. And Dean had to blush again because Cas was not a five-year-old to be used the word cute on and most definitely not his boyfriend. Well, not officially anyway.
Cas took a small bite and passed it to Dean who wolfed down a big chunk. That was how you ate burgers, if you asked him.
"Did Sam come to visit you again?" Cas asked after he finished swallowing the food he was chewing.
"Yeah," Dean answered over a mouth full of bread and meat.
"How is he doing?" Cas asked before taking another small bite. He passed the burger again to Dean, who took it and left it at that. At this rate, he would finish it before Cas could really taste anything.
"Good, I guess." Well, Dean didn't actually ask, seeing they were busy fighting over the fact that Cas was a se-or not; definitely not. This reminded Dean what they needed to talk about. Talk, yuck. "You didn't have any visitors?" he asked, passing the burger back to Cas.
"Well, my family is in California," was the only thing Cas offered. Castiel took another bite, then stared into space, munching slowly.
Dean was going to push further when he heard footsteps approaching. "Someone's coming," he whispered, nudging Cas to hide the food. Cas quickly hid it under his pillow. Then they resumed acting like they were only talking and nothing more.
"Winchester!"
His name was called while the metal gate was banged loudly with a club. Dean turned to see a prison guard named Britton. He must have been doing his off-routine check. The guy was a total douche.
"Sir," Dean replied as he got up to hide Cas behind his back. Britton liked everyone to call him Sir. Dean did it more as sarcasm.
"Do I smell food in here?" He bellowed, nose crinkling as he sniffed the air.
That bastard must have the olfactory sense of a dog. "Could be, sir," Dean replied smugly. He could hear Cas gasp from behind him. "I just farted."
Cas snorted and Dean barely managed to stop himself from cracking up.
"You think it's funny?" Britton bawled. He hit the metal bar again with his club, causing another annoying clang to pierce through the hall. "Milton!"
"No, Sir." Cas slowly appeared from behind him. Dean could see he tried hard to keep himself straight-faced. "He just farted in my face. There is nothing funny about it, Sir."
Oh God. Dean could hardly contain the air that threatened to breathe nosily out his nose in amusement. Luckily, Britton was not amused and he quickly moved to find his entertainment elsewhere.
Both of them burst out laughing as soon as they heard the douche-guard bang the gate of another cell. Dean's body bent in half as he clenched his stomach tight. He had forgotten that laughing hard did hurt, but he couldn't stop it.
"I farted in your face, huh?" Dean's voice went an octave higher as he tried to wheeze it out before collapsing into another laughing fit.
Cas grinned happily from ear to ear, something Dean never saw before. "Well, your ass was right in front of my face, so, yeah, I guess?"
Dean dissolved in another laugher before it died down to faint chuckles. He clasped a hand on Cas' shoulder and wiped tears from the corners of his eyes with another one. "It's been years since I laughed this hard."
Cas returned a smile that warmed up the whole place, down to his soul. It suddenly felt suffocating, because he was utterly happy. Dean Winchester did not deserve to be happy.
"So, uh," Dean cleared his throat; his face was still flushed hot. "You're going to finish that burger?"
Cas turned to retrieve the burger from under his pillow and, when he turned back, straight away offered it to Dean.
Dean took another big chunk of it because who would have thought laughing hard could drain this much energy. He passed it back to Cas, saying, "I'm done. You can finish it."
Cas nibbled his burger. A feverish pink hue was still apparent on his face. "I thought every guard is Dean-friendly?" he asked between bites.
"Well, you can't make everyone like you." Dean shrugged. "Speaking of, don't do that again, okay?"
"Do what?" Cas asked. His innocent eyes looked up to Dean while he tossed the last bite into his mouth. He rolled the wrapping paper into a ball and threw it in the trash can across the room.
"Defy the authorities. Don't get yourself into trouble. If anyone wrongs you, just let me know. I'll take care of it."
While it was funny, Dean had to admit, it wasn't very wise. It was true not everyone was Dean-friendly, all the more reasons not to step on anyone's toes.
"Cas?" Dean called. Castiel looked somewhat absent after hearing Dean's reply.
Shuddering slightly, Cas cautiously uttered in a low voice, "Can I ask you something?"
Dean gave a nod of consent.
"Is it true that you killed the previous shut call?"
Dean froze. The question hit him like a biting gust of wind, never welcomed in snow-covered terrains. "Who told you that?"
Cas bit his lower lip and lowered his gaze. His fingers fidgeted with the bed sheet, but he did not give any reply.
"Who?" As far as Dean knew, and his knowledge was undeniably vast, the only two people Cas talked to were Chuck and Gabriel. They had no reason to talk to Cas about that. The thought of Cas talking to someone else, behind his back, was enough to send Dean mad.
"Someone," Cas mumbled, almost inaudible.
"Which someone?" Dean pressed, agitated.
Cas was silent for a few moments more. Then he heaved a sigh before breathing out, "Nick."
"Nick as in Lucifer?" Dean squawked. He felt a sudden sharp pain drilling in his head. "How did you even talk to the guy?" Not to mention they were on a first-name basis!
"Well, he works in laundry," Cas replied self-consciously.
"Don't listen to him." Dean rolled his eyes. Of all people, Cas must be chitty-chatty with the last person on earth Dean wanted him to converse with. "He is a monster!"
"He said the same thing about you," Cas mumbled again. His eyes looked in every direction except Dean.
"And you believe him?" Dean wailed. His head was now throbbing as he imagined countless conversations Cas and Lucifer had and other venomous lies the Devil had been spitting on him. His skull felt like rupturing at the thought of Cas keeping hundred other secrets that Dean did not know.
"You didn't answer my question," Cas stated pointedly.
Infuriated, Dean groaned, "Did he also tell you that Alastair was a very cruel man?"
Castiel went still. His gaze slowly lifted up to Dean's.
"Guess not," Dean snorted. "Everyone's life is better without him, Cas."
Tilting his head to one side, Cas looked into his eyes. "So you did kill him."
The fuck was it that Cas had to know whether he had killed Alastair or not! It was not something he could blurt out to anyone even if he did it!
The raging flame was making Dean woozy. Dean bent down to hold both of Cas' hands in his. The warmth from them instantly grounded Dean. His rage gradually subsided and his voice softened as he asked, "Would you hate me if I said I did?"
Cas shifted his gaze down at their joined hands, clearly deep in thoughts. "I also killed someone," he uttered admittedly after a long halt. "Doesn't mean it's the right thing to do"
"Of course not," Dean agreed. "That's why we're doing penance here."
Cas lightly nodded.
Dean took the opportunity to continue his intended conversation before he was interrupted by that douche-guard. "You said your parents were murdered, right? Did they catch the murderer?"
Cas shook his head. He kept staring down at Dean's thumb that was now brushing up and down the back of his hand.
"Wanna tell me about it?" Dean asked. He dipped his head lower to catch Cas' gaze, which followed him up as he straightened back.
Cas grabbed Dean's hands a little tighter and Dean could see uncertainty and fear flicker in those ocean-blue eyes. "It's okay, Cas." Dean gave those hands a reassuring squeeze. Cas never gave details on his parents' death before. It was understandable considering the nature of the crime. "I'm here whenever you're ready."
Taking a deep breath, Cas held on to Dean's hands more securely before he began, "Anna and I…" He trailed off again. Dean could see how difficult this was for Cas so Dean let him continue at his own pace.
"Anna and I were driving to our parents' house one evening," Cas blurted. "It was a long drive and it was late at night when my car broke down in the middle of nowhere." Cas paused. He started to fidget where he sat. "It took us hours to get help. When we finally reached our parents', it was already dawn. We walked into the house and they were…" Cas' voice broke at this point. A single tear ran down his face as Cas looked at Dean with an unspoken plea, blue eyes quivering with fright. Dean reached up to wipe his cheek, but it seemed to cause Cas to break down. Cas cried out in a flood of tears, "They wouldn't have died if I had checked my stupid car, Dean!"
Instantly Dean pulled Cas in his arms, shushing him. "You don't know that. You could have died too."
Dean closed his eyes in hope that it would make the horrible images of the crime scene go away. There was no doubt Cas would have died a horrible death had he been there that night, but Cas didn't seem to see it that way. He understood how Cas felt, completely. The weight of failing to save people you loved, he shouldered it with him every single day.
Cas buried his face on Dean's shoulder, his arms holding on to Dean tight. Dean let him cry until it slowed down to quiet sobs. His soaked shirt plastered against his skin, a tangible evidence of guilt draining an anguished soul.
"Most days I wish I was dead," Cas murmured.
Dean felt like someone had just hammered his heart with an ice pick: precise and deadly. But he'd rather have that than a life without Cas.
"Don't say that," Dean mumbled against Cas' temple as he rocked both of them gently back and forth, securing the sobbing mess in his arms.
Cas sniffled. He was now having difficulty breathing because his nose had become stuffy. Dean reached over to grab a tissue paper. Cas sat back to clean his face.
"My life has never been the same since then," he said, throwing the used paper away. His voice was still nasal.
Suddenly it dawned on him. "Is that why you've been having nightmares?" Dean asked.
Cas looked numb with shock. "What?" he breathed with an incredulous frown.
"I said, is that why-"
"How do you know about the nightmares?" Cas cut in sharply.
Dean opened his mouth to speak. Then shut it. It was a mistake - his mistake - that ensued a simple realization. How could he tell Cas that he knew because he heard him cry in distress every night?
Cas looked as if his entire existence had crumbled to the ground. His eyes widened in what Dean could not tell if it was fear or pain. "How long have you known this?" He asked in a cracked voice.
Really, how would he answer that question?
"You've known all along, haven't you?" Cas started to shake. He looked as if he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. "Oh God," he groaned, pressing his palms on this temples, backing away from the bed. "It all makes sense now."
Dean stepped out of bed cautiously. "Cas?"
Cas looked up to Dean, arms dropped to both sides of him. Another tear drop rolled down his face. "You never wanted me. I'm just a charity case to you, aren't I?"
"What?" Dean cried in disbelief. He'd rather have his chest ripped open than have Cas thinking Dean never wanted him. "What are you saying?"
Cas stomped back to the bed and, to Dean's horror, snatched the 'Muscle Car' book from under the mattress and threw it on the floor. The thick book dropped with a dull thud as Cas glowered at Dean.
Really, how would Dean explain why he had a handbook for a partner of a rape victim?
"Cas," Dean called, his voice not short of begging. He reached out to catch Cas by the arm, but it was harshly pulled away.
"Don't touch me!" Cas bawled.
Dean tried to get hold of Cas again, but before he knew it, he was shoved face-first onto the mattress. His right arm was tightly twisted behind his back, his wrist sprained at a dangerous angle under Cas' weight. Dean grunted in pain. He had taught his student too well.
"I'm so mad I can break your wrist right now," Cas hissed behind Dean's ear. "I will regret it, but that's for another time."
The howl was deafening in his ears when Cas pressed a little further. Then he let Dean go, leaving him nursing his injured wrist. Dean felt tears pricking his eyes and choked it back.
Cas sat on the bed, bracing his back against the wall. He drew his knees up and he leaned against the bars at the foot of the beds, his gaze unseeing out of their cell.
The main lights were out. Dean fumbled for whatever he could find to make a makeshift splint for his wrist. He would wait until tomorrow to have it looked at. Right now he sat himself down the other side of the room, facing the bed. Cas glanced at him briefly then closed his eyes, as if the sight of Dean was too excruciating to bear.
~:~:~
Dean opened his eyes at the familiar whimpering sound. For a fleeting moment he didn't register why he was on the floor. Then Cas whimpered again and Dean was promptly on his feet.
Cas was still curled at the foot of the bed. It must be uncomfortable sleeping in a sitting position but he had been too stubborn to move. Dean sighed, thinking back at how so many things had happened the last few days - how so many things had changed. A few things he did he was sorry for, more things he regretted. He wondered if he could turn back time to when he and Cas had been happy, to when things unsaid had remained unsaid.
Cas squirmed again and this time Dean did not wait until Cas called out Anna's name. He sat next to the sleeping man and pulled him into his arms. Cas mewled as Dean gently placed Cas' head on his shoulder.
"Shh...I'm here, baby," Dean comforted him.
Cas whined weakly and nestled against Dean. Soon his breathing became slow and heavy. Dean leaned his head on his tousled dark hair, letting tears slide down his face for the first time.
~:~:~
Dean noted how everyone stole glances at his wrist, now neatly swathed in bandages. He had visited the infirmary and was relieved to learn that nothing was broken. A few puffs of pain relief spray were helpful, though. Couldn't say it didn't hurt.
But if a glower could kill, Dean was certain he would have been dead, repeatedly, by now. After the alarm went off this morning, Dean tried to approach Cas again, only to be greeted with a death glare. Dean instinctively cradled his wrist, and mentally told himself to back off before he got the other one injured as well.
It was all too familiar, the fuming hatred Cas carried with him everywhere he went. Dean had seen it before, the days after Dean stopped assaulting him - those nights when Cas was plagued by the nightmares. Cas would become aggressive, surrounded by a bubble of resentment, hitting anything he could the first chance he got. Worst of all, there was this sense of aversion towards him, as if Cas couldn't hate anything more than he did Dean. He remembered those times well. He just never thought he would live to see it again.
There had been passing thoughts, back then, that Cas was being subject to mood swings because he was afflicted by those troubled dreams. But now that Cas didn't have them - Dean was very certain of it - why would Cas still anoint him his adversary, Dean had no idea.
Or maybe that was the cause. Now that Cas had learned there was a way to have a peaceful sleep without having to have sex with Dean, Cas became outraged. Perhaps Cas regretted those nights spent in bed with him, bare naked for him, mewing and begging Dean to bring him to his orgasm.
Dean shuddered at the thought. He never once questioned what they had between them, but now he felt cheap and used. It made perfect sense now why Cas never so much as touched him, let alone asked him to take off his clothes.
Cas never wanted him. He only used Dean to get rid of his nightmares.
There was now a new feeling inside of Dean - a boiling fury bubbling hot and dense and ready to explode like an active volcano. It certainly didn't help when someone approached him.
"What do you want, Andy?" Dean barked.
"Whoa, calm down, mate." Andy quickly took a step back, hands rising in front of him. "I just have something to tell you. Thought you might want to know"
"What is it?" He felt itchy to break some bones if it appeared to be something he did not want to know.
"Did you know Castiel requested for a cell change?"
"He what?" Dean bawled.
"He requested for a cell-"
Next thing Dean knew, Andy was against the wall, locked by Dean's arm that was only a hairsbreadth away from crushing his windpipe. "If you're fucking messing with me," Dean hissed. The inside of his head was now spinning and his vision hazy.
"No, Dean," Andy croaked. "I wouldn't dare."
Dean ruthlessly let go of him. Andy fell to the floor, coughing. "I saw the document, Dean, on Crowley's desk. He signed it; effective immediately."
Incensed, Dean paced the room. Cas requested for a cell change. He wanted to leave Dean, and all this time Dean had been thinking about spending the rest of his life with him-
Dean stopped and hauled Andy to his feet. "Do you know where he was reassigned to?" When Andy hesitated, Dean snarled, "Which cell?"
Andy stammered, "Lucifer's"
Dean tossed the other inmate to the floor. Cas was fucking leaving to be with Lucifer. Dean couldn't process that. His head was killing him. How could he- How would he-
"Where is he?" Dean growled.
Not getting any answers, Dean shouted into Andy's confused face, "Where the fuck is he!"
"In the kitchen," Andy spluttered. "I just saw him in the kitchen."
~:~:~
When Dean reached the kitchen, he saw Cas sitting at the far end of the room. There was no mistaking that body even though Cas had his back to him. Dean was half-way through when someone approached Cas.
Lucifer
The bastard walked right into Cas' personal space and he fucking placed his hand on Cas' back and Cas didn't even flinch! Dean saw red. The two seemed to be talking in a hushed voice. Cas looked up to the standing guy, the hand on his back making steady movement up and down. When Cas turned to his tea (how the hell did he get tea in here?), the Devil tilted his face Dean's way and smirked.
That son of a bitch just smirked at him! Dean was so furious he could rip open a mother cow with his bare hands right now. Then Lucifer leaned down to whisper something into Cas' ear, and sniffed his hair. That foolish dope just let a pervert sniff his hair! How could Cas be so clueless! Unless he let the dick do it on purpose-
Dean yanked Cas from the chair once Lucifer was gone.
"What the hell, Dean?" Cas wailed, wrenching his arm away from Dean's tight grip.
"Yeah, what the hell, Cas?" Dean scoffed. "What the hell did I just see?"
When Cas returned nothing but a glare, Dean continued, "Is that why you won't leave the laundry room, huh? So you can have him grope you by day and me by night?" Dean sneered. Cas was practically shaking now; his hands clenched into fists. Like Dean cared. He wouldn't make the same mistake as getting caught off-guard again. He could dodge Cas' punch, anytime. "You little slut," he spat.
What Dean did not expect was a gush of warm tea streaming down his head.
"Enjoy your tea, Dean," Cas said through gritted teeth. Tepid infusion dripped from Dean's hair, leaving bitter taste on his lips. The cup shattered into tiny pieces on the floor. Cas' entire body trembled as he stormed away.
"Cas!"
~:~:~
The metal gate was slid shut and Cas was still nowhere to be seen. Dean hadn't thought 'effective immediately' would mean, you know, in effect, like, today. But what the hell, Cas could go groping with his favorite concubine twenty-four seven now, for all Dean cared.
Lights out and Dean curled himself in the lower bed, hugging the blanket because it was warm and it smelled like Cas. He was pathetic as fuck, daydreaming of serving Cas breakfast in bed when all Cas ever wanted was to be locked up here with- Dean couldn't even stand thinking of that name anymore. He never saw it coming, and here he was, thinking he had everything in control. So much for being a shut call.
Dean buried his face in the pillow, hoping to soothe the stinging burn in his eyes. There was no way in hell he was going to cry while Cas was out there giggling somewhere. It was just a stupid, stubborn pain in his chest that refused to dull away. He had endured much worse. He wouldn't fall apart because of a heart wrung out, squashed, bloody and pulpy, and thrown right back into his face.
Dean sniffled. No, it was just the cool air. His body didn't need the warmth beside him. He had a blanket for that - two, actually, now that he was alone in this cell. Sam would be happy to hear that he didn't have a cellmate anymore. Dean would make sure it stayed that way. If they ever fucking put anyone with him again, he would break their nose, and maybe a few fingers - a few limbs if needed be - to guarantee that his new cellmate would be sent to an outside hospital and never returned.
He would not fall for anyone again. Dean Winchester had thrown his squashed heart to the depths of hell and no amount of angels raiding siege there would be able to raise it from perdition. The ghost of him roaming this dungeon would slowly decay and eventually perish, ferrying his damned soul from one misery to the other.
"Dean!"
Dean jumped to his feet. He wasn't hallucinating. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. But why would Cas call his name in a frightened voice?
He leaped to the gate, clutching the metal bars, straining his ears but he didn't hear anything.
"Cas?" Dean hollered.
"Dean, help me! I'm in Lucifer's cage."
Dean rested his forehead on the cold barrier. He might have been broken, but they were so fucking wrong to think he was going to endure any sick joke.
"Of course, you are," Dean said with a snort. "You requested a cell change, remember?"
Cas went silent and Dean gave out a quiet sigh of alleviation, thinking maybe those fuckers would just leave him be now.
"Dean!" Cas shouted back again, his voice completely terrified. "I didn't file the request!"
~:~:~