Fic: Prisoner of Love (11/?)
MASTERPOST / AO3
Chapter Summary: Calculated Cas, miscalculated Dean, and the rest of the iceberg revealed. Well, some of it, anyway.
Additional warnings: Sam/Jo, mentions of substance abuse
A/N: I should like to extend my grateful thanks to all of you who left a review for the previous chapter, even if it was to say you were confused. Don't feel bad if you were confused, so was Castiel!
~:~:~
Sam downed another gulp of whiskey as he sat in the small kitchen of his two-story house. It was very uncommon for him to dull his troubles with alcohol. He needed to stay focused, now more than ever due to Dean's inexplicable obsession with his serial-killer cellmate. Castiel had brought a new dimension of fucked-up to the Winchesters' already fucked-up lives.
If asked, Sam would say they were destined to wind up here in this pit from the start. Sam and Dean were raised by Bobby Singer, who happened to be the Head of the Bureau of Investigation for Sioux Falls' District Attorney. The boys possessed the same skills set Bobby had and more. They would have followed in Bobby's footsteps had they not been recruited by a certain Ellen Harvelle, one of Bobby's friends who happened to be an FBI Special Agent in need of 'private service'.
To put it simply, their job was to help law enforcement officers bring down bad people by executing certain missions that law enforcers could not. The job was illegal, obviously, and beyond dangerous, but Sam was convinced that was what Dean needed: saving people. Since they had lost their parents in an arson attack, Dean blamed himself for not being able to save them; no matter that people said otherwise.
Things had been as good as they got. They spent most of their time on the road as their assignments ranged from east to west. There was, however, a small glitch in their latest mission, which ended up with them being arrested by benighted authorities.
Upon learning there was no way they could get away without blowing up the whole operative, Dean, - behind Sam's back, of course - proposed a deal: Sam walked free, with a full ride to a law school of his choice, and Dean would quietly put himself away. Sam protested, naturally, but Dean reasoned it wouldn't do for the two of them to be behind bars. And he'd rather be dead before he allowed his baby brother to set foot in a prison.
So, here Sam was, putting down roots not far from where Dean was being incarcerated, studying for LSAT while working shifts at a hotel to keep himself occupied. Sam and Dean had been inseparable, and, as much as he hated to admit it, a life without Dean was more difficult to handle than he had thought.
He had help, though. Jo, Ellen's daughter, another FBI agent from a different unit, requested a transfer to their state once she learned of Dean's arrangement. Jo had been their childhood friend and Sam's object of affection since he still had pimples. Jo, on the other hand, developed a serious crush on Dean, who saw her as nothing more than a sister. By the time Jo got over it and started realizing that there was another Winchester looking up at her, it was time for them to hit the road.
"Hey, Jo"
Sam opened the door after he heard the bell ring. Jo stood in the doorway with a stack of folders in her arms, bags of Chinese takeaway in her hands, stunningly beautiful as ever.
"Hi, Sam," Jo said, pecking him on the lips before sliding herself through the threshold. "Sorry. I got here as fast as I could."
It was delightful and depressing at the same time, looking at how far they'd come. It was Jo, who took the initiative, of course, seeing Sam settling down but still disoriented, trying to get Dean out when Dean didn't want to.
Sam had managed to find himself a small house with two master bedrooms and one guestroom; because he always hoped Dean would come to his senses and come to live with him sometime soon - that 'soon' had been the passing of one entire year. Jo still rented her own place, but she crashed here more times than not. They tried to keep their pace slow, for Dean's sake, though Sam couldn't quite imagine his future without her.
"'s fine. Let me get that for you." Sam held out his arms to take the folders from Jo. He was about to set them on the coffee table, when Jo stopped him.
"Nuh-uh…Kitchen. I'm starving."
Jo beckoned towards the back of the house and started walking. Sam picked the files up and followed suit, placing them on the island as she started getting their food out of the bag. She passed two boxes to Sam and two to herself, mumbling something similar to 'yours, yours, mine, mine'. Jo didn't waste a sec and stuck chopsticks into the box to get some food out and into her mouth. Sam didn't mind her appetite one bit. If anything, it reminded him of Dean and made things feel more like home.
"For the sake of your dinner, Sam, I'll keep these folders close." Jo said over a mouthful, one hand still holding the food container, the other free hand spreading the folders in a row over the table. She had called earlier and said she needed to show him something a.s.a.p. Sam slowly started eating his food.
"I looked nation-wide and found seven cases that have the same MO," she continued. "Each case is one year apart. I can't believe no-one has ever linked them before." Jo shuddered visibly. "Anyway, that first file is the furthest back I found. That last one, there, is Castiel's case. The fourth one here is Castiel's parents'." She then paused to chomp down on more food.
"So, among Castiel's victims were his parents?" Sam pointed out with an incredulous frown. Who the hell murdered their own parents? Even if they did, it was always the last case, the ultimate goal, not somewhere in the middle.
Jo slightly shook her head. "The victimology of the first six cases is pretty much the same: elderly couples living peacefully alone in their cozy houses, whereas the last one was two healthy men. But here's what's weird." Jo gulped down whatever remained in her mouth. "Each crime scene was cleaned up pretty good. We got only partial, unusable prints. But combining them, I get usable sets, not one, but two. Now get this, none match Castiel's."
Sam almost choked on his noodles. "What? Are you saying we get the wrong guy?"
"There's more," Jo said, raising a finger to stop Sam from saying anything else. "I ran those sets in IAFIS and they match the two vics here." Jo tapped her fingers on the last file.
"Castiel's victims are suspects in these other cases?" Sam raised his voice.
"Looks that way," Jo nodded in the affirmative.
"Okay, okay." Sam put his food down, trying to stop himself from hyperventilating. So, Castiel killed the serial killers using their own M.O, or he was the killer who staged the scenes for those two, or it could be one of the other deductions Sam could not come up with yet. Either way, who would have thought his big brother would have the hots for such a sophisticated killer? It wasn't like Sam could have his say or anything. He had it bad when he had to deceive Ruby to get to her boss and sabotage their evil master plan.
Anyway, this was new. It meant six cold cases closed. If they played it well, they might be able to cut a deal for Castiel. Dean might get his shit together if he knew his favorite cellmate may not be with him as long as he thought. The ideal option would be to get Castiel out altogether; Dean would be at his heels. What would happen once Dean was out was another story. But first Sam needed valid evidence to build a solid case. He had no clue where to start.
"Fancy taking another trip to California?" Jo asked with a knowing glint in her eyes.
Sam let out a relieved snort. He wasn't normally like this, but Dean's imprisonment had thrown both of them off balance. Dean became cold and irritable; Sam lost and despairing. He had no idea how he could set his feet on the ground if it weren't for Jo.
Sam got up from his seat. He scooped Jo up in his arms and placed her small frame on the countertop. Jo cupped his face and leaned down to kiss him. It was slow because she knew how troubled Sam was. She knew how confused Sam was now that Castiel was also in the picture, and with him came a whole lot of baggage. Sam was grateful for the sensual, understanding touch, because honestly that was what he needed right now - that was what he had always needed. He didn't want to run away from all these predicaments, but it was so hard, so hard to stand ground when his world imploded and came raining down on him after Dean was gone.
Giving out an exhausted sigh, Sam rested his forehead on Jo's. "Stay the night, please?" he said.
Jo responded with her signature grin, "Thought you'd never ask"
~:~:~
Sam sprang into a sitting position as soon as he heard his cell ring. He was on high alert when it came to phone calls since any of them could be an emergency from Dean, especially this early in the morning.
"Hello," Sam croaked into the phone. His voice was gruff after a night's sleep. Jo stirred and whimpered on the other side of the bed.
"Sam!" A familiar voice shouted down the phone. Sam groaned. He was too groggy to deal with nuisances right now.
"Gabriel, what is it?"
Little did Sam realize that it could be an actual emergency call.
"How fast can you get your ass down here?"
~:~:~
"Why hasn't he woken up yet?!" Dean shouted down at the doctor, who was sitting carefully reading and comparing charts at his desk. Dean banged his fists down on the laminated top but the cheap metal desk didn't budge. Dr. Balthazar Sebastian just squinted his eyes at Dean through his glasses.
"Come on, Dean. Don't do this." Gabriel tried to pry Dean away from the desk; hopefully to get Dean to sit and calm down.
"No, I have to do this." Dean jerked his arm away from the shorter man's grip. He had to do this. Cas had been half-conscious since Dean got to him this morning and carried him to the infirmary. And now, even after Dr. Sebastian finished his treatment and administered an IV, Cas remained in a state of slumber.
An hour or so earlier, the moment the morning alarm went off, Dean dashed to Lucifer's cell, only to find the culprit had been gone and Cas lying in a state Dean never wished to see again. No such luck; the image kept replaying itself at the back of his mind. Word going around was that Lucifer had fled and locked himself in solitary. That sly bastard was so fucking wrong to think a lockdown could keep him unharmed. As soon as he knew Castiel was out of danger, Dean wouldn't hesitate to carve and rip the sicko apart, consequences be damned.
Balthazar removed his glasses and placed them on his desk, too collected for Dean's liking. He put down the charts and slightly turned to face Dean. His elbows settled on the armrests as he linked his fingers together. "Castiel had been drugged," he said. "His body did not respond very well to it. You're lucky he's still breathing."
"What do you mean, drugged?" Gabriel cut in while Dean was still gaping in shock. "How can there be drugs in the house?"
"I don't know. You tell me." The doctor replied dauntingly, and it was Dean who needed to gulp because it was his job to keep the place clean. It had been cleaned as far as Dean knew.
"Lately there have been many patients coming in with substance abuse problems," Dr. Sebastian continued. "Not necessarily from your building, of course. Some of them even OD'ed. I tested the drugs in their system but it was difficult to tell what types of drugs they were without access to the drugs themselves. From what I can tell, there seemed to be variable combinations of them. Right now I can only treat whatever symptoms Castiel shows and hope he won't get any worse."
"Hope is not good enough," Dean said through gritted teeth. He failed to keep Cas from harm; he'd be a complete loser if he couldn't keep Cas from hell. "Are you saying you'll be able to help him if you get your hands on the drug?"
Balthazar nodded. Obtaining the drug was definitely not easy, but if anyone could do it, it was Dean. "It's not a guarantee, but certainly better."
Dean swiftly turned on his heels.
"But wait, Dean," the doctor halted him. "It may not be as easy as you think." He paused. On second thought, this task might not be possible at all and even put Dean's life in danger. But now that he had said it, he knew Dean wouldn't back down. Balthazar decided to continue in a low voice. "I've submitted reports on each and every case of these patients, but so far no actions have been taken. It seems like they were all gone with the wind."
Dean could hear Gabriel gasp next to him. So they weren't simply dealing with drugs in prison, but something far fishier. But right now the top priority was Cas' health status. He would fetch the drug first and worry about everything else later.
"My reports are all gone, Dean. Only a handful of people can do that, powerful people. So you'd better be careful." Balthazar warned.
Dean only nodded. He was not afraid. Dean had been dealing with big-name monsters all his life. If anything, it made his fingers itchy and his blood circulate in an energetic buzz.
~:~:~
"What are you doing here, Dean? You should be in your cell."
Dean and Gabriel were walking away from the infirmary, figuring out ways to acquire that mysterious drug, when they were confronted. Before Gabriel could even attempt a reply, Dean had swung the scrawny guard to the wall, arm crushing his throat. The unaware officer gasped for air, which did not reach his lungs.
"Where the hell were you? Why didn't you help him?" Dean hissed in the man's face, each syllable added extra force to the obstruction of the airway.
"Dean! Let him go!" Gabriel tried to pull Dean away from the unfortunate prison guard whose bony face had turned pale and blue, but Dean's grip was too solid. "Damn it, Dean!" Gabriel yelled. "Don't kill him! We still need his help!"
Disgruntled, Dean retracted his arm. Garth fell to the floor, choking on his own spate of breath. He was one of the 'Dean-friendly' guards, and the one Dean was closest with. Once his cough died down, Gabriel helped him up while Garth nursed his own neck.
"Honestly I also want to know where you were last night, dude," Gabriel spoke to the man in his arms, still unbalanced on his feet.
Garth replied raggedly, "I was sent home, Dean, last minute. I'm truly sorry about what happened. I would have stayed if I had known what was going to go down."
Dean bit his lips, clearly trying to stop himself from lashing out another harsh remark or hurling someone off the air and tear them to shreds. It was Gabriel who helped him ask, "Where are the rest?"
"Off-duty," Garth replied. "We were suddenly sent away - home or other buildings - all of us."
Dean's hands balled into tight fists, nails biting into his skin. He was trembling with rage. It was his fault he underestimated Lucifer, who seemed to have an upper hand on him. First the drug and now the friends in high places, who knew exactly who was on Dean's side and who was not. Something nobody should even have the faintest idea of.
"But even if there were none of us, the other guards would have to help, right?" Gabriel continued dubiously. "There was a prisoner in distress. It was their job to interfere."
Garth gulped down the lump in his throat. He clung closer to Gabriel, something that shouldn't have happened because he was a correctional officer and they were inmates, but he was very afraid of Dean right now, of how Dean would react to what he would have to say.
"They were ordered not to." Garth shivered, seeing no response from Dean as he previously expected. "They were ordered not to help Cas-"
Dean's fist abruptly hit the concrete wall with a loud thud. The two guys flinched at the same time. Red blotches crept up on Dean's pale knuckles, but he clenched his fists even tighter. Dean hated each and every one of them, those fuckers who feared more for their career and turned a blind eye when Cas was being treated like trash. He hated even more the scumbag who ordered Cas' death sentence. There was only one person who could do this: warden Crowley.
Gabriel stopped Dean in time before more fists could be pummeled into the wall. Dean threw the shorter man away. Gabriel staggered to one side and Dean felt like using him as a punch bag, relieving the urge to destroy everyone and everything from the top of the ladder to the bottom of the food chain; the same way they teamed up to destroy Cas and thus their less-than-perfect lives together.
Garth hurriedly blew his whistle, and in seconds two more prison guards were by Dean's side, securing him before he could further hurt anyone. Dean would not go down without a fight, of course. Garth had to knock him out with a stun baton. The two guards then dragged Dean back to his cell while Garth pretended to secure the other inmate. As soon as they went out of sight, Gabriel swiftly turned to his captor.
"Garth, I need your help with something."
~:~:~
Chapter Summary: Calculated Cas, miscalculated Dean, and the rest of the iceberg revealed. Well, some of it, anyway.
Additional warnings: Sam/Jo, mentions of substance abuse
A/N: I should like to extend my grateful thanks to all of you who left a review for the previous chapter, even if it was to say you were confused. Don't feel bad if you were confused, so was Castiel!
~:~:~
Sam downed another gulp of whiskey as he sat in the small kitchen of his two-story house. It was very uncommon for him to dull his troubles with alcohol. He needed to stay focused, now more than ever due to Dean's inexplicable obsession with his serial-killer cellmate. Castiel had brought a new dimension of fucked-up to the Winchesters' already fucked-up lives.
If asked, Sam would say they were destined to wind up here in this pit from the start. Sam and Dean were raised by Bobby Singer, who happened to be the Head of the Bureau of Investigation for Sioux Falls' District Attorney. The boys possessed the same skills set Bobby had and more. They would have followed in Bobby's footsteps had they not been recruited by a certain Ellen Harvelle, one of Bobby's friends who happened to be an FBI Special Agent in need of 'private service'.
To put it simply, their job was to help law enforcement officers bring down bad people by executing certain missions that law enforcers could not. The job was illegal, obviously, and beyond dangerous, but Sam was convinced that was what Dean needed: saving people. Since they had lost their parents in an arson attack, Dean blamed himself for not being able to save them; no matter that people said otherwise.
Things had been as good as they got. They spent most of their time on the road as their assignments ranged from east to west. There was, however, a small glitch in their latest mission, which ended up with them being arrested by benighted authorities.
Upon learning there was no way they could get away without blowing up the whole operative, Dean, - behind Sam's back, of course - proposed a deal: Sam walked free, with a full ride to a law school of his choice, and Dean would quietly put himself away. Sam protested, naturally, but Dean reasoned it wouldn't do for the two of them to be behind bars. And he'd rather be dead before he allowed his baby brother to set foot in a prison.
So, here Sam was, putting down roots not far from where Dean was being incarcerated, studying for LSAT while working shifts at a hotel to keep himself occupied. Sam and Dean had been inseparable, and, as much as he hated to admit it, a life without Dean was more difficult to handle than he had thought.
He had help, though. Jo, Ellen's daughter, another FBI agent from a different unit, requested a transfer to their state once she learned of Dean's arrangement. Jo had been their childhood friend and Sam's object of affection since he still had pimples. Jo, on the other hand, developed a serious crush on Dean, who saw her as nothing more than a sister. By the time Jo got over it and started realizing that there was another Winchester looking up at her, it was time for them to hit the road.
"Hey, Jo"
Sam opened the door after he heard the bell ring. Jo stood in the doorway with a stack of folders in her arms, bags of Chinese takeaway in her hands, stunningly beautiful as ever.
"Hi, Sam," Jo said, pecking him on the lips before sliding herself through the threshold. "Sorry. I got here as fast as I could."
It was delightful and depressing at the same time, looking at how far they'd come. It was Jo, who took the initiative, of course, seeing Sam settling down but still disoriented, trying to get Dean out when Dean didn't want to.
Sam had managed to find himself a small house with two master bedrooms and one guestroom; because he always hoped Dean would come to his senses and come to live with him sometime soon - that 'soon' had been the passing of one entire year. Jo still rented her own place, but she crashed here more times than not. They tried to keep their pace slow, for Dean's sake, though Sam couldn't quite imagine his future without her.
"'s fine. Let me get that for you." Sam held out his arms to take the folders from Jo. He was about to set them on the coffee table, when Jo stopped him.
"Nuh-uh…Kitchen. I'm starving."
Jo beckoned towards the back of the house and started walking. Sam picked the files up and followed suit, placing them on the island as she started getting their food out of the bag. She passed two boxes to Sam and two to herself, mumbling something similar to 'yours, yours, mine, mine'. Jo didn't waste a sec and stuck chopsticks into the box to get some food out and into her mouth. Sam didn't mind her appetite one bit. If anything, it reminded him of Dean and made things feel more like home.
"For the sake of your dinner, Sam, I'll keep these folders close." Jo said over a mouthful, one hand still holding the food container, the other free hand spreading the folders in a row over the table. She had called earlier and said she needed to show him something a.s.a.p. Sam slowly started eating his food.
"I looked nation-wide and found seven cases that have the same MO," she continued. "Each case is one year apart. I can't believe no-one has ever linked them before." Jo shuddered visibly. "Anyway, that first file is the furthest back I found. That last one, there, is Castiel's case. The fourth one here is Castiel's parents'." She then paused to chomp down on more food.
"So, among Castiel's victims were his parents?" Sam pointed out with an incredulous frown. Who the hell murdered their own parents? Even if they did, it was always the last case, the ultimate goal, not somewhere in the middle.
Jo slightly shook her head. "The victimology of the first six cases is pretty much the same: elderly couples living peacefully alone in their cozy houses, whereas the last one was two healthy men. But here's what's weird." Jo gulped down whatever remained in her mouth. "Each crime scene was cleaned up pretty good. We got only partial, unusable prints. But combining them, I get usable sets, not one, but two. Now get this, none match Castiel's."
Sam almost choked on his noodles. "What? Are you saying we get the wrong guy?"
"There's more," Jo said, raising a finger to stop Sam from saying anything else. "I ran those sets in IAFIS and they match the two vics here." Jo tapped her fingers on the last file.
"Castiel's victims are suspects in these other cases?" Sam raised his voice.
"Looks that way," Jo nodded in the affirmative.
"Okay, okay." Sam put his food down, trying to stop himself from hyperventilating. So, Castiel killed the serial killers using their own M.O, or he was the killer who staged the scenes for those two, or it could be one of the other deductions Sam could not come up with yet. Either way, who would have thought his big brother would have the hots for such a sophisticated killer? It wasn't like Sam could have his say or anything. He had it bad when he had to deceive Ruby to get to her boss and sabotage their evil master plan.
Anyway, this was new. It meant six cold cases closed. If they played it well, they might be able to cut a deal for Castiel. Dean might get his shit together if he knew his favorite cellmate may not be with him as long as he thought. The ideal option would be to get Castiel out altogether; Dean would be at his heels. What would happen once Dean was out was another story. But first Sam needed valid evidence to build a solid case. He had no clue where to start.
"Fancy taking another trip to California?" Jo asked with a knowing glint in her eyes.
Sam let out a relieved snort. He wasn't normally like this, but Dean's imprisonment had thrown both of them off balance. Dean became cold and irritable; Sam lost and despairing. He had no idea how he could set his feet on the ground if it weren't for Jo.
Sam got up from his seat. He scooped Jo up in his arms and placed her small frame on the countertop. Jo cupped his face and leaned down to kiss him. It was slow because she knew how troubled Sam was. She knew how confused Sam was now that Castiel was also in the picture, and with him came a whole lot of baggage. Sam was grateful for the sensual, understanding touch, because honestly that was what he needed right now - that was what he had always needed. He didn't want to run away from all these predicaments, but it was so hard, so hard to stand ground when his world imploded and came raining down on him after Dean was gone.
Giving out an exhausted sigh, Sam rested his forehead on Jo's. "Stay the night, please?" he said.
Jo responded with her signature grin, "Thought you'd never ask"
~:~:~
Sam sprang into a sitting position as soon as he heard his cell ring. He was on high alert when it came to phone calls since any of them could be an emergency from Dean, especially this early in the morning.
"Hello," Sam croaked into the phone. His voice was gruff after a night's sleep. Jo stirred and whimpered on the other side of the bed.
"Sam!" A familiar voice shouted down the phone. Sam groaned. He was too groggy to deal with nuisances right now.
"Gabriel, what is it?"
Little did Sam realize that it could be an actual emergency call.
"How fast can you get your ass down here?"
~:~:~
"Why hasn't he woken up yet?!" Dean shouted down at the doctor, who was sitting carefully reading and comparing charts at his desk. Dean banged his fists down on the laminated top but the cheap metal desk didn't budge. Dr. Balthazar Sebastian just squinted his eyes at Dean through his glasses.
"Come on, Dean. Don't do this." Gabriel tried to pry Dean away from the desk; hopefully to get Dean to sit and calm down.
"No, I have to do this." Dean jerked his arm away from the shorter man's grip. He had to do this. Cas had been half-conscious since Dean got to him this morning and carried him to the infirmary. And now, even after Dr. Sebastian finished his treatment and administered an IV, Cas remained in a state of slumber.
An hour or so earlier, the moment the morning alarm went off, Dean dashed to Lucifer's cell, only to find the culprit had been gone and Cas lying in a state Dean never wished to see again. No such luck; the image kept replaying itself at the back of his mind. Word going around was that Lucifer had fled and locked himself in solitary. That sly bastard was so fucking wrong to think a lockdown could keep him unharmed. As soon as he knew Castiel was out of danger, Dean wouldn't hesitate to carve and rip the sicko apart, consequences be damned.
Balthazar removed his glasses and placed them on his desk, too collected for Dean's liking. He put down the charts and slightly turned to face Dean. His elbows settled on the armrests as he linked his fingers together. "Castiel had been drugged," he said. "His body did not respond very well to it. You're lucky he's still breathing."
"What do you mean, drugged?" Gabriel cut in while Dean was still gaping in shock. "How can there be drugs in the house?"
"I don't know. You tell me." The doctor replied dauntingly, and it was Dean who needed to gulp because it was his job to keep the place clean. It had been cleaned as far as Dean knew.
"Lately there have been many patients coming in with substance abuse problems," Dr. Sebastian continued. "Not necessarily from your building, of course. Some of them even OD'ed. I tested the drugs in their system but it was difficult to tell what types of drugs they were without access to the drugs themselves. From what I can tell, there seemed to be variable combinations of them. Right now I can only treat whatever symptoms Castiel shows and hope he won't get any worse."
"Hope is not good enough," Dean said through gritted teeth. He failed to keep Cas from harm; he'd be a complete loser if he couldn't keep Cas from hell. "Are you saying you'll be able to help him if you get your hands on the drug?"
Balthazar nodded. Obtaining the drug was definitely not easy, but if anyone could do it, it was Dean. "It's not a guarantee, but certainly better."
Dean swiftly turned on his heels.
"But wait, Dean," the doctor halted him. "It may not be as easy as you think." He paused. On second thought, this task might not be possible at all and even put Dean's life in danger. But now that he had said it, he knew Dean wouldn't back down. Balthazar decided to continue in a low voice. "I've submitted reports on each and every case of these patients, but so far no actions have been taken. It seems like they were all gone with the wind."
Dean could hear Gabriel gasp next to him. So they weren't simply dealing with drugs in prison, but something far fishier. But right now the top priority was Cas' health status. He would fetch the drug first and worry about everything else later.
"My reports are all gone, Dean. Only a handful of people can do that, powerful people. So you'd better be careful." Balthazar warned.
Dean only nodded. He was not afraid. Dean had been dealing with big-name monsters all his life. If anything, it made his fingers itchy and his blood circulate in an energetic buzz.
~:~:~
"What are you doing here, Dean? You should be in your cell."
Dean and Gabriel were walking away from the infirmary, figuring out ways to acquire that mysterious drug, when they were confronted. Before Gabriel could even attempt a reply, Dean had swung the scrawny guard to the wall, arm crushing his throat. The unaware officer gasped for air, which did not reach his lungs.
"Where the hell were you? Why didn't you help him?" Dean hissed in the man's face, each syllable added extra force to the obstruction of the airway.
"Dean! Let him go!" Gabriel tried to pull Dean away from the unfortunate prison guard whose bony face had turned pale and blue, but Dean's grip was too solid. "Damn it, Dean!" Gabriel yelled. "Don't kill him! We still need his help!"
Disgruntled, Dean retracted his arm. Garth fell to the floor, choking on his own spate of breath. He was one of the 'Dean-friendly' guards, and the one Dean was closest with. Once his cough died down, Gabriel helped him up while Garth nursed his own neck.
"Honestly I also want to know where you were last night, dude," Gabriel spoke to the man in his arms, still unbalanced on his feet.
Garth replied raggedly, "I was sent home, Dean, last minute. I'm truly sorry about what happened. I would have stayed if I had known what was going to go down."
Dean bit his lips, clearly trying to stop himself from lashing out another harsh remark or hurling someone off the air and tear them to shreds. It was Gabriel who helped him ask, "Where are the rest?"
"Off-duty," Garth replied. "We were suddenly sent away - home or other buildings - all of us."
Dean's hands balled into tight fists, nails biting into his skin. He was trembling with rage. It was his fault he underestimated Lucifer, who seemed to have an upper hand on him. First the drug and now the friends in high places, who knew exactly who was on Dean's side and who was not. Something nobody should even have the faintest idea of.
"But even if there were none of us, the other guards would have to help, right?" Gabriel continued dubiously. "There was a prisoner in distress. It was their job to interfere."
Garth gulped down the lump in his throat. He clung closer to Gabriel, something that shouldn't have happened because he was a correctional officer and they were inmates, but he was very afraid of Dean right now, of how Dean would react to what he would have to say.
"They were ordered not to." Garth shivered, seeing no response from Dean as he previously expected. "They were ordered not to help Cas-"
Dean's fist abruptly hit the concrete wall with a loud thud. The two guys flinched at the same time. Red blotches crept up on Dean's pale knuckles, but he clenched his fists even tighter. Dean hated each and every one of them, those fuckers who feared more for their career and turned a blind eye when Cas was being treated like trash. He hated even more the scumbag who ordered Cas' death sentence. There was only one person who could do this: warden Crowley.
Gabriel stopped Dean in time before more fists could be pummeled into the wall. Dean threw the shorter man away. Gabriel staggered to one side and Dean felt like using him as a punch bag, relieving the urge to destroy everyone and everything from the top of the ladder to the bottom of the food chain; the same way they teamed up to destroy Cas and thus their less-than-perfect lives together.
Garth hurriedly blew his whistle, and in seconds two more prison guards were by Dean's side, securing him before he could further hurt anyone. Dean would not go down without a fight, of course. Garth had to knock him out with a stun baton. The two guards then dragged Dean back to his cell while Garth pretended to secure the other inmate. As soon as they went out of sight, Gabriel swiftly turned to his captor.
"Garth, I need your help with something."
~:~:~