Fic: Prisoner of Love (17/?)
MASTERPOST / AO3
Chapter Summary: The decision Castiel made, and its consequences.
Additional chapter warnings: Unpleasant, dub-con bj. I'm sorry.
~:~:~
Dean had his arms around Castiel the moment the cell gate slid shut. It was the last call of the day. After several nights spent in separate, different places, they were finally back together in their tiny, rancid cage which Castiel had learned to call home.
He had missed this. He had, but he never realized how bad until he felt Dean's deep but uneven breathing against his ear.
"Dean," he croaked. Dean's tight embrace was choking the air out of his lungs. Even so, Castiel kept his hands at his sides. He was not sure if he should return the gesture or push Dean away. It was getting a little difficult to breathe.
"Shut up," Dean snapped, but not unkindly. He took another deep breath and tightened his hold. Castiel sensed the urge to gasp for air, but he decided he could endure it a while longer.
Dean gave him a final squeeze and two pats on his back. "I'm glad we're back together," he muttered with relief, releasing Cas from his confines.
Castiel swayed a little forward as Dean backed away from him, already missing the warmth. A pang of melancholy assailed Cas as he wished, a little too late, to reciprocate the hug.
"So," Dean exclaimed, clasping his hands and rubbing them as he had no idea how he should proceed. After everything that had happened, Dean doubted they could go back to the way they were. The fact that Cas did not hug him back did not go unnoticed.
Just as Dean was wondering if he should climb up to his top bed, alone, something came over Castiel. He shoved Dean hard against the cell gate. The sheer force wrung out from Dean a pained, if not surprised, groan.
Full lips crushed his almost immediately after. Dean was stunned, only for a split second, before he had his arms around the other man's waist, a lopsided smile on his face. He loved Cas' little imposition. Castiel, on the other hand, couldn't understand why Dean would have a smug grin on his lips, and tried to nip it away, his hand lightly cradling Dean's face.
He shifted his legs, knowing Dean would appreciate a little nudge at his groin. True to his thought, Dean gasped into their heated kisses, helplessly thrusting his hips forward, chasing that delicious friction. The kisses became more bruising as one of Cas' hands tugged Dean's cropped hair at the base of his neck, the other pulling at the side of his head. Castiel pressed hard into the man in front of him; the iron bars searing against Dean's back muscles.
"Easy, tiger," Dean heaved. Castiel was now nuzzling under his jaw, his chapped lips nibbled on Dean's skin, alternating with little licks and suckles that had Dean giving out faint whimpers. "It's not even lights out."
"Can't wait," Castiel grumbled low in his throat, its vibration sending Dean weak in the knees. They had wasted enough time. Castiel wasn't going to repeat the same mistakes now that they were back together, after so much loss.
"Tell me," Castiel growled close to Dean's ear, so close Dean could feel that luscious mouth move against his ear lobe. "Did you mean what you said, when you said that you are mine, all of you, that I am free to do with you anyway I please?"
Cas dragged his palm, agonizingly slow and firm, along the inside of Dean's thigh while punching out those words. Dean's legs practically shook the higher up that hand went. Unabashed, he stuttered out a 'yes' and 'Cas' and 'please'.
Humming his approval, Castiel skirted around the bulge in Dean's crotch. Dean whined meekly at the negligence. But then Cas' lips were on his again, an amused chuckle on that angelic face as his hands slid under Dean's shirt. The palms rubbed over Dean's skin, little by little dragging the shirt up with them and pulling it over Dean's head in deliberate torment. When his arms were finally free, Dean immediately whirled them around so he could pin Cas against the wall.
"No!" Cas snarled, shoving Dean back where he was. Dean was dazzled by Cas' display of control; his cock twitched in thrilled anticipation.
Satisfied that Dean remained still where he wanted him to be, Castiel pulled away enough to study the plane of Dean's chest under the white neon light. He ran his forefinger among droplets of sweat that glazed the tanned muscles and the inked tattoo, creating absent shapes that somehow saddened him. Dean's collarbones were sharp, his shoulders firm and his biceps a handsome bulge that would make any woman weep. Dean Winchester was a god; Castiel was nothing compared to him. He couldn't see why someone so beautiful and flawless would choose to be with someone so plain - and tainted - like him.
"Cas, why don't we go lie down for a while?"
Dean's gentle voice jolted him out of the trance he didn't know he had fallen into. Dean was nudging at his elbow, so Castiel gave a small nod then headed to his bunk.
They settled in their places: Dean on his back; Castiel curled up by his side, resting his head against Dean's shoulder, one arm draped over Dean's naked waist. One of Dean's hands drew loose swirls on Cas' back as he recounted stories from his childhood, something about he and his brother leaving soldier figures in their father's car. Castiel was sure he had heard it before, but he wouldn't mind hearing it again and again. Dean's voice, alive and animated, was music to his ears.
He would have been contented with it, their easy settlement, but when the main light went out, Castiel flinched. It marked the first night of their very few nights left together. It could be their last if he couldn't keep the deal he had made with Lucifer. So Castiel started nuzzling the crook of Dean's neck, grateful that Dean had granted him permission. He had wanted to do this for a long, long time.
When Cas' tongue rolled along the shell of his ear, Dean sucked in his breath; his story long discontinued. He knew he should say they didn't have to do this, that they could wait until Cas was really ready, but the stubble burn was so pleasantly steamy that his words came out in incoherent puffs and nothing more.
Then Cas got up and placed his knees by both sides of Dean's waist, his ass up in the air as he bent down to suck at the pulse point on his neck. An appreciative moan escaped Dean's lips as he tried, craftily, to expose more of his skin. His hands flew to Cas' shirt, tugging him down for some desperate friction.
Frustrated, Castiel groaned, removing Dean's hands and pinning them above his head while fumbling for something to tie them with. He wanted to move at his own pace, but Dean's hands were too many, too demanding.
"Cas, please, don't tie me up." Dean wriggled against Cas' hold. "I want to touch you."
Softened by pleading green eyes, Castiel let go of Dean's wrists to cup his face. "Just for a moment, okay?" he cooed.
The way Cas looked at him was so calm, and confident, and loving, that all Dean could do was give in to it. He lightly nodded his consent. If Cas wanted to take control of this game, Dean would not deny him his heart's desires.
Giving Dean a peck on the lips, Cas then tied Dean up nicely. He began mapping Dean's skin, touching and feeling every inch of it with the tip of his tongue or the palms of his hands. He stuck in his mind those spots that had Dean writhing against his hold, the same way Dean did to him the first night they met.
Now he understood why Dean had taken the time to do what he did. The more attention he paid to those over-sensitized areas, the more aroused Dean became. Castiel studied Dean's responses like a diligent schoolboy, intended not only to pass his exam, but to excel in it. By the time he was done, Dean was a whimpering mess. A dark, wet pool formed at the front of his trousers. His bulge curved gracefully along his groin.
Castiel carefully peeled off the fabric, and was in awe at what he saw. Dean's erection was in perfect size and shape, and put his own to shame. Now Castiel could not remember why he hadn't done it earlier. It had been foolish of him to vow not to touch Dean. If he had known how impeccable Dean was, he would have ended their relationship while he still had the chance.
"You're thinking too much, Cas." Dean cut his train of crippling thoughts. "Come here. Untie me and give me a kiss."
And Cas went, willingly, like a moth to a flame, even if it meant imminent death. Maybe it was the brightness that attracted him, but every time Dean told him to kiss, Castiel was sure it was the warmth that lured him in.
Once he let Dean free of his restraint, he was pulled into a familiar, tender kiss. Castiel relaxed into Dean's arms and sighed a dreamy sigh into their locked lips. He rested his weight on his left elbow, half of his body sprawled over Dean's right side. Dean's hand slithered along Cas' right arm that rested on his chest. When it reached Cas' hand, he gently guided it down, and further down.
Castiel gasped when his palm was placed on Dean's cock, breaking the kiss. Dean shushed him and carefully curled Cas' fingers around his girth. Castiel could feel the weight of it bear down on him - not just the physical weight, but also the burden that came with it, the load of what it meant now that they were getting intimate.
"Cas," Dean murmured, jolting Cas back to the matter at hand. He subtly moved in Cas' fist. "Please"
Shaking his thoughts away, Castiel moved his hand up and down Dean's length in earnest, the way he liked being done to himself. Looking up at Dean's face, he saw his eyes lidded; his lips parted in contented purrs. When Cas flicked his wrist to massage the head and thumb the slit, he could feel Dean dig his fingers onto the back of his shoulder and puff out shaky groans.
So he repeated his motions. Castiel watched with fascination as pre-cum steadily oozed out, easing his rapid caresses. Dean squirmed prettily beneath him, his moans more and more unrestrained as Cas worked the now swollen and red cock in his hand.
He bent down to suck the sensitive spot on the soft flesh below Dean's shoulder; causing Dean to jerk his hips, more pre-cum wetted his erection. At this moment, Cas wanted nothing more than to taste the viscous fluid, to see how it would feel on the pad of his tongue.
"Please tell me you're clean," Castiel whined behind Dean's ear, his hand never stopped moving up and down and around Dean's hard-on. "I want to put my lips on you, Dean. Please tell me you're clean."
Dean swore he could explode by those obscene mewls alone. They had their initial results back from Dr. Balthazar. The good news was they were clean from all sexually transmitted diseases. Still, there were some that needed at least six months to be absolutely positive. But Castiel was begging so nicely, his strokes firm and needy on his cock. Dean could only imagine how much nicer it would feel to have it enshrouded in the wetness of Cas' throat.
As Cas pleaded more, Dean nodded. He hadn't been with anyone since he was incarcerated. He could safely say he was clean.
Castiel eagerly got up and dragged his tongue along the underside of Dean's cock, sending silent prayers of thanks high above that Dean didn't taste too bad. He looked up to Dean for feedback. When Dean lightly nodded, he pressed his lips where the milky liquid came out and sucked at it like a baby, before letting the head slip into his mouth.
He watched as Dean threw his head back and groaned freely. Castiel was glad Dean didn't buck his hips, but pinned them down nonetheless. He tried to slide his lips lower and take in more of Dean's length, only to find it was not as simple as it seemed. Tears pricked at his eyes as his airway got clogged. He never appreciated what his wife had done for him as much as he did now.
"Breathe through your nose, Cas," Dean instructed. He had his hands on Cas' head, but he wasn't pushing. He just ran his fingers through his hair and gave encouraging moans as Castiel bobbed his head up and down. There wasn't much he could take, so he covered the remaining length with his fingers. He tried to increase the pace, but started to regret asking Dean for it. He wasn't good. There was no way he could get Dean off with his half-ass blowjob. His jaw hurt, and he was beginning to think it might be better if he'd just let Dean fuck his face.
"Cas, I'm going to-"
Castiel was harshly pulled away and Dean took over, giving his cock some quick tugs. Soon white, slimy substance erupted from him, which marked Castiel's relief.
Dean had a blissful grin on his face after he emptied his load. He pulled Cas into a kiss, moaning. Castiel thought it was because he tasted like Dean. He hoped it wasn't all bad. But when he felt Dean's hand on him, he swiftly backed away.
"Cas, you're not-"
Castiel wasn't sure his face could get any redder than it was right now. It was utterly embarrassing. He should have felt something. He knew Dean had come, untouched, those many times Dean came on to him. It shouldn't be any different, but instead, his cock was as flaccid as the day he was born.
"It's fine, Cas. Come here." With that, Dean pulled him into a hug and kissed the top of his head as Castiel lay down next to him. Dean was always like this: tender, and understanding. Castiel had no idea what he had done to deserve him.
Dean quickly cleaned himself. When he finished, he cupped Cas' cheeks and pecked his lips. "Thank you," he said, locking their eyes. His smile was warm and radiant. "That was amazing."
"I-" Castiel spluttered. He tried to avert his gaze but Dean wouldn't let him. "I was not good," he mumbled.
Dean laughed, then kissed away the cute, bemused look on Cas' face. "I almost blew my load in your mouth, Cas," he explained cockily. "You are good."
But Cas still tried to avoid his eyes; his forehead furrowed and Dean had no idea why. "Hey," Dean made a guess, though he fervently hoped it was not the case. The idea of him forcing himself on Cas was beyond sickening. "You know you don't have to do anything you don't want to, right?"
Cas quietly nodded, much to Dean's relief. "I wanted to," he said weakly, "but I wasn't any good. I'm not good enough for-"
Dean silenced him with a kiss. "I just told you. You were good. Why don't you accept my word?" he questioned, crestfallen, but, looking at the guilty look on Cas' face, he gave up. "Alright, fine. Skills come with practice. I'm pretty sure I'll be happy to help you with that," he said with a wink.
Castiel beamed, but then quickly deflated. He suddenly remembered why he did what he did. They didn't have time for practice. They wouldn't even have time for anything if he couldn't keep his share of the deal.
"Dean," he tentatively asked. "Can you do something for me?"
Dean gave a small chuckle. "Anything," he replied simply.
Castiel felt his heartbeat quicken in his chest. There was no way around it, so he could only pray Dean wouldn't get too mad. "Can you leave Lucifer be?"
"What? No!" Dean winced. "Why are we talking about this again?"
Castiel climbed on top of him, pinning Dean down. "Because…" He dragged on, struggling to come up with something agreeable. "I just want you to focus on us. We're back together now. Nothing else matters, does it?"
Dean traced his thumb on the bristles over Cas' face, smiling when Castiel inclined his head towards it. "I'd want that too," he crooned. "But I told you. We live in a hostile setting. If I don't do anything about it, it'll never stop."
"No, you don't understand." Cas shook his head furiously. Soon there would be no 'we' to begin with. He just wanted to make the most of their very little time left. Even if he didn't strike a deal with Lucifer, he'd rather spend those remaining hours with Dean than to plot revenge. Why couldn't Dean see it?
"What is it, Cas? What's the matter?" Dean asked. Cas' strange behavior had gotten him worried.
"You're leaving!" Cas blurted. "When do you plan to tell me that?"
"What are you saying, Cas? Who told you I'm leaving?"
"Don't lie to me, Dean. I checked. You'll be transferred in two weeks!"
Dean could see Cas was shaking with anger, so he carefully calmed him down. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," he said. "The transfer order is true, but I don't plan on leaving. Sam is finding a way to help me."
The fact of the matter was, Dean had no idea what would become of them, but it was still too early to think that they would be separated, never to see each other again. One thing he was certain of, was that he would not leave Cas on his own, defenseless.
"Who told you about the transfer?" he pressed on when Cas said nothing. Only he and his brother knew about it, and Crowley, Dean thought with horror. "Did Crowley get to you?"
Cas frowned. "What does the warden have to do with anything?"
Dean did a mental calculation. If it wasn't Crowley, then it must be… "Oh God, it was Lucifer, wasn't it?" Dean groaned. Lucifer was still in the hotbox, as far as Dean knew. But that Cas did not deny it, was enough answer in itself.
"What the hell, Cas?" Dean wailed. "I told you to stay away from him. Why were you even talking to him at all?"
"Because I have no choice, okay?" Cas protested. "You were leaving, and I'd rather spend the nights with you than in some pervert's cell!"
Dean frowned as he tried to sew the bits and pieces Cas had given him together. "Are you saying that," and Dean hoped to God that his assumption was wrong, "that us being back together was his doing?"
Again, Cas went silence. Dean never felt so irate at his incompetence. He tried to get Cas back to his cell. God knew he did, but it was beyond his powers. Apparently, it wasn't beyond Lucifer's. And now, because of his own impotence, Lucifer had leverage over them.
"What have you done, Cas? What did he ask of you in return?"
"That you would not lay a finger on him," Cas mumbled softly, his eyes downcast.
Fuck. Dean inwardly cursed as Cas got up from above him and cowered against the wall, as if to avoid Dean's wrath. Cas should have known Dean wouldn't be okay with it. There was only one thing he'd ever asked of Cas. One thing! That he'd stay away from Lucifer. But Cas not only did not keep his promise; he had to go and made a deal with the Devil! He knew how furious Dean would be, and yet he still-
"Oh, no, fucking no. Don't tell me you just-"
Dean couldn't get the repulsive words past his lips. It all made sense now why Cas wanted to do something he clearly wasn't ready. Why he would ask something impossible of him, after he was sated.
"You know what? I'm done with this shit," Dean hissed, moving out of his bed. Cas looked up at him, wide-eyed. "You used me, over and over, and I never minded it. I never did. You know why? Because I thought what we had was genuine! I thought that, even though you never felt the same way I do, you'd at least value our relationship!"
"Dean, no-"
"You made me force myself on you, Cas! How could you do that to me, after what we've been through? Me! Of all people! You've hurt me worse than anyone ever did, and I've had my fair share of hurt!"
Cas wanted to say he was sorry, that he, too, loved Dean, so much so that he went out of his way to break his promise. But Dean was already on his top bed, face buried in his pillow; so Cas swallowed his words of apologies down his throat. Instead, he flopped down on his bed, and cried.
Even though the sound was muffled, Dean knew Cas was crying, hard. He had witnessed Cas crying so many times he could easily see how his shoulders would shake against the mattress or how red and puffy his nose would be. He wished he could get over himself, get down there, tell Cas he was sorry and comfort him. He knew it was partly his fault, that if he did have the power to keep Cas and himself in the same cell, none of this would have happened.
He listened to Cas crying until Cas fell asleep. Maybe what kept him from going down wasn't that he couldn't forgive Cas. Maybe it was because he couldn't forgive himself.
~:~:~
The room was dark. He wasn't even sure if it was a room or if it was just a space in black - shiny black, because there was a ray of light streaming in the center. But that was all he could see from his line of sight.
"Castiel"
He turned at the familiar voice, and was stunned breathless. His sister, unblemished and beautiful, was dressed in a white gown with an embroidered bodice and train, a soft glow illuminating around her.
"Anna," he breathed. It wasn't until his sister asked for his hand that he noticed that he, too, was dressed in a black tuxedo, something he was certain he never owed or wore.
"Dance with me?"
"Y- You know I don't dance," he stuttered.
Anna smiled warmly at her brother. She took his hand and straightened her shoulders. "What does it matter?" she spoke softly, arranging their stances. "There're a lot of things you've never done in life, big brother. At some point in time, sooner or later, you'll have to start doing it."
They now stood ready, her left hand holding his right, the other curling protectively around his waist. Castiel placed his free hand on her shoulder, his body tense.
"Do you trust me?" she asked, lifting her chin up, inviting confidence.
Castiel swallowed his nervousness. His fingers twitched in his sister's hand, impelling him to hold on to her tighter. He gave a measured nod.
Anna pulled their bodies close. She whispered next to his ear, "Follow my lead," and moved.
No music could be heard, Castiel noticed. After a few clumsy steps, he started to get the hang of it. Anna was sure in her pace, her back erect, and elbows pointing to the sides. Her smile grew wider when they fell into easy rhythms.
"I've missed you, brother."
Castiel pursed his lips; preventing himself from saying he missed her too. He knew none of this was real, that he was dreaming, and that her words were merely a projection of his thoughts. There was no point repeating it.
What confused him, however, was the fact that it was the first time he had such a dream. Whenever he dreamed of his sister, it was always the younger version of her. At least, the little girl first, and then the adult. Never once did it started with the grown-up. He wondered where the little girl went.
"You're thinking too much," Anna said with quiet chuckles as she moved left, forward, and right. Castiel was surprised he could move along with her in perfect synchronization without stepping on her dress or embarrassing himself.
"Why are you here?" he asked bluntly now that he realized, again, that it was just a dream. So what if he could dance in a dream?
"I just want to make sure that you are happy," she replied before spinning him around and catching him again when he returned with a small oomph. Her eyes glinted with amusement.
"I am," he exclaimed as they continued their waltz. He couldn't see why he shouldn't be happy.
"Are you?" his sister inquired with a knowing look.
Well, he had been happy, until he made a terrible mistake. One that, even though he knew Dean would never forgive him, he still did, and was now living the consequences.
"I've made stupid mistakes, grave mistakes, over and over." His sister's voice brought Castiel back to his dream; their rocking cadence a soothing harmony. "Yet you never fail to forgive me. Why is that?"
The answer was simple and clear. "You know I love you."
Anna nodded in acknowledgement. "And Dean, you. He will forgive you."
"You don't know that," Castiel grumbled, looking away from her.
Their steps slowly came to a halt. Even without looking, Cas could hear her affectionate smile in her voice. "I know you love me because you forgive me. You'll know Dean loves you when he forgives you." But when he still refused to look at her, she cupped his cheek and mildly turned his head. Her voice was stern when she asked, "The question is, Castiel, do you forgive yourself?"
Cas repeated the question in his head, and could not conjure an answer. What did he have to forgive himself for, to begin with? What was it that Anna saw, but he couldn't see?
"I'm tired. Can we rest a bit?" Anna suggested.
He gingerly set his sister down on a bed and sat by her side. She looked ill and frail, her usual sparkle drained from her countenance. Cas held her hand. This was way worse than the last time he saw her in person.
"You have to let me go," she said feebly.
Castiel shushed her. "No, you are not going anywhere." He wasn't going to let anything bad happen to her. It was his job to make sure she stayed safe and was well taken care of.
"You have Dean now. You'll be fine."
Shaking his head, Cas refused firmly. "No"
"Do you love him?"
"I-" he opened his mouth to reply, but then shut it. Most of the time he felt like he loved Dean, but it could be nothing more than a physical attraction. More often than not, he was too scared to let himself love, or be loved.
"I- I don't know. I don't know what love is."
That much was true. He wasn't sure if he had ever loved anyone romantically in his life, not even his wife. Daphne happened more out of convenience. She had come when he needed an escape. Their time together was companionable, their departure a mutual deliverance.
"Different people define love differently. You have to define one for yourself," Anna offered her words of wisdom. "Why don't you let Dean know? Maybe he'll help you define yours."
"No, Anna." He shook his head. "I need you." At least with her, it was easier, straightforward. She was his sister, and because of that, he loved her. End of story.
"I don't need you anymore, Castiel. I'm all grown up now. You can let me go."
"No!" Cas bellowed. He started to shake, with fear, or anger, he couldn't pinpoint. Of course, his sister couldn't mean that, could she? How could she not need him? He needed her. They needed each other.
"I love you, brother." Anna placed a hand on his cheek, brushing tears that he didn't realize were forming. "I love you and I have forgiven you - for what happened, to us, to our family, even though it was never your fault. It's time you forgive yourself, Castiel, and be happy with the person who cares for you as much as I do, if not more."
Castiel wiped the tears away with the back of his hands. This was like saying goodbye. He didn't want to say goodbye. "Please, Anna! Why can't you stay? Why can't you both stay? Why do I have to choose?"
Anna placed a hand on Castiel's heart. He clutched at it. "There will come a time when you don't have to," she said warmly.
Her small smile was compassionate, though Castiel could only see it dimly through his tear-filled eyes. Or maybe she was really fading away.
"No, Anna! Don't go!" He tried to take hold of her, but her body was now translucent. The hand that he was clutching dispersed into specks of dust.
"Anna!"
~:~:~
Castiel startled awake. His heart raced and he was drenched in sweat. Dean appeared in his vision at once.
"Oh my God, Cas. You alright?"
Dean yanked him into a tight hug, making the air hot and damp, but Castiel couldn't find the strength to voice his displeasure.
"I called you, so many times. I shook you, but you just wouldn't wake up." Dean's voice was dripping with panic. His hands, if not pulling him into a choking embrace, were roaming all over his body, as if to see if he was still in one piece. "God, I'm so sorry, Cas. You tossed and turned and cried. I've never seen it this bad. I'm so sorry. I thought I would lose you. I shouldn't get mad at you like that. I'm so sorry. I was an idiot. It will never happen again. I'm sorry."
Castiel did not go to sleep again that night. He and Dean just sat against the headboard, leaning onto each other, the dream still vivid in his mind. At some point in time, Dean dozed off. Castiel observed those long eyelashes, freckled cheeks and slightly parted lips, until Dean came to. Dean snuggled closer to him, placing his head on Castiel's shoulder; arm and leg slung over, trapping him. He mumbled something about not letting Cas go, and fell asleep again.
Dean was fully awake sometime at dawn, and he kept alternating between pecking Cas' cheek and nuzzling his neck, for some reason. When the morning alarm blared, Castiel didn't jump as he usually did and he refused to move out of bed. It took Dean a ton of begging and persuasion before Castiel eventually followed Dean to the shower area and then the canteen and back.
Cas did not say a word since he woke up from his nightmare. Dean was tempted to take his cellmate to the infirmary, to have Dr. Balthazar check whether his larynx was still functioning or that he didn't suffer some kind of post traumatic dream disorder.
But then Castiel was called for a visitor, to their shocking surprises. Castiel never had a visitor. Dean was dying to go and see who his caller might be, but decided against it. Then he reasoned to himself that a peek would not hurt. He was the shutcall, after all. He had the right to know everything that was going on in their pen. But then his conscience kicked in and reminded him not to do anything stupid again. At least not to Cas.
When Cas came back, long moments later, his face was blank. Whatever little expression he might have had after the nightmare, was all gone from his face now. Dean came up to him but Cas didn't seem to notice anything beyond his nose. When Cas at last sensed that there was another person with him, this was the first thing he said.
"Dean, let's get out of here."
~:~:~
A/N: To those of you who are still reading this, I deeply apologize for the long absence and the chapter that didn't quite fit the holiday spirit. The next one should be out sooner, but until then, Happy Holidays!
Chapter Summary: The decision Castiel made, and its consequences.
Additional chapter warnings: Unpleasant, dub-con bj. I'm sorry.
~:~:~
Dean had his arms around Castiel the moment the cell gate slid shut. It was the last call of the day. After several nights spent in separate, different places, they were finally back together in their tiny, rancid cage which Castiel had learned to call home.
He had missed this. He had, but he never realized how bad until he felt Dean's deep but uneven breathing against his ear.
"Dean," he croaked. Dean's tight embrace was choking the air out of his lungs. Even so, Castiel kept his hands at his sides. He was not sure if he should return the gesture or push Dean away. It was getting a little difficult to breathe.
"Shut up," Dean snapped, but not unkindly. He took another deep breath and tightened his hold. Castiel sensed the urge to gasp for air, but he decided he could endure it a while longer.
Dean gave him a final squeeze and two pats on his back. "I'm glad we're back together," he muttered with relief, releasing Cas from his confines.
Castiel swayed a little forward as Dean backed away from him, already missing the warmth. A pang of melancholy assailed Cas as he wished, a little too late, to reciprocate the hug.
"So," Dean exclaimed, clasping his hands and rubbing them as he had no idea how he should proceed. After everything that had happened, Dean doubted they could go back to the way they were. The fact that Cas did not hug him back did not go unnoticed.
Just as Dean was wondering if he should climb up to his top bed, alone, something came over Castiel. He shoved Dean hard against the cell gate. The sheer force wrung out from Dean a pained, if not surprised, groan.
Full lips crushed his almost immediately after. Dean was stunned, only for a split second, before he had his arms around the other man's waist, a lopsided smile on his face. He loved Cas' little imposition. Castiel, on the other hand, couldn't understand why Dean would have a smug grin on his lips, and tried to nip it away, his hand lightly cradling Dean's face.
He shifted his legs, knowing Dean would appreciate a little nudge at his groin. True to his thought, Dean gasped into their heated kisses, helplessly thrusting his hips forward, chasing that delicious friction. The kisses became more bruising as one of Cas' hands tugged Dean's cropped hair at the base of his neck, the other pulling at the side of his head. Castiel pressed hard into the man in front of him; the iron bars searing against Dean's back muscles.
"Easy, tiger," Dean heaved. Castiel was now nuzzling under his jaw, his chapped lips nibbled on Dean's skin, alternating with little licks and suckles that had Dean giving out faint whimpers. "It's not even lights out."
"Can't wait," Castiel grumbled low in his throat, its vibration sending Dean weak in the knees. They had wasted enough time. Castiel wasn't going to repeat the same mistakes now that they were back together, after so much loss.
"Tell me," Castiel growled close to Dean's ear, so close Dean could feel that luscious mouth move against his ear lobe. "Did you mean what you said, when you said that you are mine, all of you, that I am free to do with you anyway I please?"
Cas dragged his palm, agonizingly slow and firm, along the inside of Dean's thigh while punching out those words. Dean's legs practically shook the higher up that hand went. Unabashed, he stuttered out a 'yes' and 'Cas' and 'please'.
Humming his approval, Castiel skirted around the bulge in Dean's crotch. Dean whined meekly at the negligence. But then Cas' lips were on his again, an amused chuckle on that angelic face as his hands slid under Dean's shirt. The palms rubbed over Dean's skin, little by little dragging the shirt up with them and pulling it over Dean's head in deliberate torment. When his arms were finally free, Dean immediately whirled them around so he could pin Cas against the wall.
"No!" Cas snarled, shoving Dean back where he was. Dean was dazzled by Cas' display of control; his cock twitched in thrilled anticipation.
Satisfied that Dean remained still where he wanted him to be, Castiel pulled away enough to study the plane of Dean's chest under the white neon light. He ran his forefinger among droplets of sweat that glazed the tanned muscles and the inked tattoo, creating absent shapes that somehow saddened him. Dean's collarbones were sharp, his shoulders firm and his biceps a handsome bulge that would make any woman weep. Dean Winchester was a god; Castiel was nothing compared to him. He couldn't see why someone so beautiful and flawless would choose to be with someone so plain - and tainted - like him.
"Cas, why don't we go lie down for a while?"
Dean's gentle voice jolted him out of the trance he didn't know he had fallen into. Dean was nudging at his elbow, so Castiel gave a small nod then headed to his bunk.
They settled in their places: Dean on his back; Castiel curled up by his side, resting his head against Dean's shoulder, one arm draped over Dean's naked waist. One of Dean's hands drew loose swirls on Cas' back as he recounted stories from his childhood, something about he and his brother leaving soldier figures in their father's car. Castiel was sure he had heard it before, but he wouldn't mind hearing it again and again. Dean's voice, alive and animated, was music to his ears.
He would have been contented with it, their easy settlement, but when the main light went out, Castiel flinched. It marked the first night of their very few nights left together. It could be their last if he couldn't keep the deal he had made with Lucifer. So Castiel started nuzzling the crook of Dean's neck, grateful that Dean had granted him permission. He had wanted to do this for a long, long time.
When Cas' tongue rolled along the shell of his ear, Dean sucked in his breath; his story long discontinued. He knew he should say they didn't have to do this, that they could wait until Cas was really ready, but the stubble burn was so pleasantly steamy that his words came out in incoherent puffs and nothing more.
Then Cas got up and placed his knees by both sides of Dean's waist, his ass up in the air as he bent down to suck at the pulse point on his neck. An appreciative moan escaped Dean's lips as he tried, craftily, to expose more of his skin. His hands flew to Cas' shirt, tugging him down for some desperate friction.
Frustrated, Castiel groaned, removing Dean's hands and pinning them above his head while fumbling for something to tie them with. He wanted to move at his own pace, but Dean's hands were too many, too demanding.
"Cas, please, don't tie me up." Dean wriggled against Cas' hold. "I want to touch you."
Softened by pleading green eyes, Castiel let go of Dean's wrists to cup his face. "Just for a moment, okay?" he cooed.
The way Cas looked at him was so calm, and confident, and loving, that all Dean could do was give in to it. He lightly nodded his consent. If Cas wanted to take control of this game, Dean would not deny him his heart's desires.
Giving Dean a peck on the lips, Cas then tied Dean up nicely. He began mapping Dean's skin, touching and feeling every inch of it with the tip of his tongue or the palms of his hands. He stuck in his mind those spots that had Dean writhing against his hold, the same way Dean did to him the first night they met.
Now he understood why Dean had taken the time to do what he did. The more attention he paid to those over-sensitized areas, the more aroused Dean became. Castiel studied Dean's responses like a diligent schoolboy, intended not only to pass his exam, but to excel in it. By the time he was done, Dean was a whimpering mess. A dark, wet pool formed at the front of his trousers. His bulge curved gracefully along his groin.
Castiel carefully peeled off the fabric, and was in awe at what he saw. Dean's erection was in perfect size and shape, and put his own to shame. Now Castiel could not remember why he hadn't done it earlier. It had been foolish of him to vow not to touch Dean. If he had known how impeccable Dean was, he would have ended their relationship while he still had the chance.
"You're thinking too much, Cas." Dean cut his train of crippling thoughts. "Come here. Untie me and give me a kiss."
And Cas went, willingly, like a moth to a flame, even if it meant imminent death. Maybe it was the brightness that attracted him, but every time Dean told him to kiss, Castiel was sure it was the warmth that lured him in.
Once he let Dean free of his restraint, he was pulled into a familiar, tender kiss. Castiel relaxed into Dean's arms and sighed a dreamy sigh into their locked lips. He rested his weight on his left elbow, half of his body sprawled over Dean's right side. Dean's hand slithered along Cas' right arm that rested on his chest. When it reached Cas' hand, he gently guided it down, and further down.
Castiel gasped when his palm was placed on Dean's cock, breaking the kiss. Dean shushed him and carefully curled Cas' fingers around his girth. Castiel could feel the weight of it bear down on him - not just the physical weight, but also the burden that came with it, the load of what it meant now that they were getting intimate.
"Cas," Dean murmured, jolting Cas back to the matter at hand. He subtly moved in Cas' fist. "Please"
Shaking his thoughts away, Castiel moved his hand up and down Dean's length in earnest, the way he liked being done to himself. Looking up at Dean's face, he saw his eyes lidded; his lips parted in contented purrs. When Cas flicked his wrist to massage the head and thumb the slit, he could feel Dean dig his fingers onto the back of his shoulder and puff out shaky groans.
So he repeated his motions. Castiel watched with fascination as pre-cum steadily oozed out, easing his rapid caresses. Dean squirmed prettily beneath him, his moans more and more unrestrained as Cas worked the now swollen and red cock in his hand.
He bent down to suck the sensitive spot on the soft flesh below Dean's shoulder; causing Dean to jerk his hips, more pre-cum wetted his erection. At this moment, Cas wanted nothing more than to taste the viscous fluid, to see how it would feel on the pad of his tongue.
"Please tell me you're clean," Castiel whined behind Dean's ear, his hand never stopped moving up and down and around Dean's hard-on. "I want to put my lips on you, Dean. Please tell me you're clean."
Dean swore he could explode by those obscene mewls alone. They had their initial results back from Dr. Balthazar. The good news was they were clean from all sexually transmitted diseases. Still, there were some that needed at least six months to be absolutely positive. But Castiel was begging so nicely, his strokes firm and needy on his cock. Dean could only imagine how much nicer it would feel to have it enshrouded in the wetness of Cas' throat.
As Cas pleaded more, Dean nodded. He hadn't been with anyone since he was incarcerated. He could safely say he was clean.
Castiel eagerly got up and dragged his tongue along the underside of Dean's cock, sending silent prayers of thanks high above that Dean didn't taste too bad. He looked up to Dean for feedback. When Dean lightly nodded, he pressed his lips where the milky liquid came out and sucked at it like a baby, before letting the head slip into his mouth.
He watched as Dean threw his head back and groaned freely. Castiel was glad Dean didn't buck his hips, but pinned them down nonetheless. He tried to slide his lips lower and take in more of Dean's length, only to find it was not as simple as it seemed. Tears pricked at his eyes as his airway got clogged. He never appreciated what his wife had done for him as much as he did now.
"Breathe through your nose, Cas," Dean instructed. He had his hands on Cas' head, but he wasn't pushing. He just ran his fingers through his hair and gave encouraging moans as Castiel bobbed his head up and down. There wasn't much he could take, so he covered the remaining length with his fingers. He tried to increase the pace, but started to regret asking Dean for it. He wasn't good. There was no way he could get Dean off with his half-ass blowjob. His jaw hurt, and he was beginning to think it might be better if he'd just let Dean fuck his face.
"Cas, I'm going to-"
Castiel was harshly pulled away and Dean took over, giving his cock some quick tugs. Soon white, slimy substance erupted from him, which marked Castiel's relief.
Dean had a blissful grin on his face after he emptied his load. He pulled Cas into a kiss, moaning. Castiel thought it was because he tasted like Dean. He hoped it wasn't all bad. But when he felt Dean's hand on him, he swiftly backed away.
"Cas, you're not-"
Castiel wasn't sure his face could get any redder than it was right now. It was utterly embarrassing. He should have felt something. He knew Dean had come, untouched, those many times Dean came on to him. It shouldn't be any different, but instead, his cock was as flaccid as the day he was born.
"It's fine, Cas. Come here." With that, Dean pulled him into a hug and kissed the top of his head as Castiel lay down next to him. Dean was always like this: tender, and understanding. Castiel had no idea what he had done to deserve him.
Dean quickly cleaned himself. When he finished, he cupped Cas' cheeks and pecked his lips. "Thank you," he said, locking their eyes. His smile was warm and radiant. "That was amazing."
"I-" Castiel spluttered. He tried to avert his gaze but Dean wouldn't let him. "I was not good," he mumbled.
Dean laughed, then kissed away the cute, bemused look on Cas' face. "I almost blew my load in your mouth, Cas," he explained cockily. "You are good."
But Cas still tried to avoid his eyes; his forehead furrowed and Dean had no idea why. "Hey," Dean made a guess, though he fervently hoped it was not the case. The idea of him forcing himself on Cas was beyond sickening. "You know you don't have to do anything you don't want to, right?"
Cas quietly nodded, much to Dean's relief. "I wanted to," he said weakly, "but I wasn't any good. I'm not good enough for-"
Dean silenced him with a kiss. "I just told you. You were good. Why don't you accept my word?" he questioned, crestfallen, but, looking at the guilty look on Cas' face, he gave up. "Alright, fine. Skills come with practice. I'm pretty sure I'll be happy to help you with that," he said with a wink.
Castiel beamed, but then quickly deflated. He suddenly remembered why he did what he did. They didn't have time for practice. They wouldn't even have time for anything if he couldn't keep his share of the deal.
"Dean," he tentatively asked. "Can you do something for me?"
Dean gave a small chuckle. "Anything," he replied simply.
Castiel felt his heartbeat quicken in his chest. There was no way around it, so he could only pray Dean wouldn't get too mad. "Can you leave Lucifer be?"
"What? No!" Dean winced. "Why are we talking about this again?"
Castiel climbed on top of him, pinning Dean down. "Because…" He dragged on, struggling to come up with something agreeable. "I just want you to focus on us. We're back together now. Nothing else matters, does it?"
Dean traced his thumb on the bristles over Cas' face, smiling when Castiel inclined his head towards it. "I'd want that too," he crooned. "But I told you. We live in a hostile setting. If I don't do anything about it, it'll never stop."
"No, you don't understand." Cas shook his head furiously. Soon there would be no 'we' to begin with. He just wanted to make the most of their very little time left. Even if he didn't strike a deal with Lucifer, he'd rather spend those remaining hours with Dean than to plot revenge. Why couldn't Dean see it?
"What is it, Cas? What's the matter?" Dean asked. Cas' strange behavior had gotten him worried.
"You're leaving!" Cas blurted. "When do you plan to tell me that?"
"What are you saying, Cas? Who told you I'm leaving?"
"Don't lie to me, Dean. I checked. You'll be transferred in two weeks!"
Dean could see Cas was shaking with anger, so he carefully calmed him down. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," he said. "The transfer order is true, but I don't plan on leaving. Sam is finding a way to help me."
The fact of the matter was, Dean had no idea what would become of them, but it was still too early to think that they would be separated, never to see each other again. One thing he was certain of, was that he would not leave Cas on his own, defenseless.
"Who told you about the transfer?" he pressed on when Cas said nothing. Only he and his brother knew about it, and Crowley, Dean thought with horror. "Did Crowley get to you?"
Cas frowned. "What does the warden have to do with anything?"
Dean did a mental calculation. If it wasn't Crowley, then it must be… "Oh God, it was Lucifer, wasn't it?" Dean groaned. Lucifer was still in the hotbox, as far as Dean knew. But that Cas did not deny it, was enough answer in itself.
"What the hell, Cas?" Dean wailed. "I told you to stay away from him. Why were you even talking to him at all?"
"Because I have no choice, okay?" Cas protested. "You were leaving, and I'd rather spend the nights with you than in some pervert's cell!"
Dean frowned as he tried to sew the bits and pieces Cas had given him together. "Are you saying that," and Dean hoped to God that his assumption was wrong, "that us being back together was his doing?"
Again, Cas went silence. Dean never felt so irate at his incompetence. He tried to get Cas back to his cell. God knew he did, but it was beyond his powers. Apparently, it wasn't beyond Lucifer's. And now, because of his own impotence, Lucifer had leverage over them.
"What have you done, Cas? What did he ask of you in return?"
"That you would not lay a finger on him," Cas mumbled softly, his eyes downcast.
Fuck. Dean inwardly cursed as Cas got up from above him and cowered against the wall, as if to avoid Dean's wrath. Cas should have known Dean wouldn't be okay with it. There was only one thing he'd ever asked of Cas. One thing! That he'd stay away from Lucifer. But Cas not only did not keep his promise; he had to go and made a deal with the Devil! He knew how furious Dean would be, and yet he still-
"Oh, no, fucking no. Don't tell me you just-"
Dean couldn't get the repulsive words past his lips. It all made sense now why Cas wanted to do something he clearly wasn't ready. Why he would ask something impossible of him, after he was sated.
"You know what? I'm done with this shit," Dean hissed, moving out of his bed. Cas looked up at him, wide-eyed. "You used me, over and over, and I never minded it. I never did. You know why? Because I thought what we had was genuine! I thought that, even though you never felt the same way I do, you'd at least value our relationship!"
"Dean, no-"
"You made me force myself on you, Cas! How could you do that to me, after what we've been through? Me! Of all people! You've hurt me worse than anyone ever did, and I've had my fair share of hurt!"
Cas wanted to say he was sorry, that he, too, loved Dean, so much so that he went out of his way to break his promise. But Dean was already on his top bed, face buried in his pillow; so Cas swallowed his words of apologies down his throat. Instead, he flopped down on his bed, and cried.
Even though the sound was muffled, Dean knew Cas was crying, hard. He had witnessed Cas crying so many times he could easily see how his shoulders would shake against the mattress or how red and puffy his nose would be. He wished he could get over himself, get down there, tell Cas he was sorry and comfort him. He knew it was partly his fault, that if he did have the power to keep Cas and himself in the same cell, none of this would have happened.
He listened to Cas crying until Cas fell asleep. Maybe what kept him from going down wasn't that he couldn't forgive Cas. Maybe it was because he couldn't forgive himself.
~:~:~
The room was dark. He wasn't even sure if it was a room or if it was just a space in black - shiny black, because there was a ray of light streaming in the center. But that was all he could see from his line of sight.
"Castiel"
He turned at the familiar voice, and was stunned breathless. His sister, unblemished and beautiful, was dressed in a white gown with an embroidered bodice and train, a soft glow illuminating around her.
"Anna," he breathed. It wasn't until his sister asked for his hand that he noticed that he, too, was dressed in a black tuxedo, something he was certain he never owed or wore.
"Dance with me?"
"Y- You know I don't dance," he stuttered.
Anna smiled warmly at her brother. She took his hand and straightened her shoulders. "What does it matter?" she spoke softly, arranging their stances. "There're a lot of things you've never done in life, big brother. At some point in time, sooner or later, you'll have to start doing it."
They now stood ready, her left hand holding his right, the other curling protectively around his waist. Castiel placed his free hand on her shoulder, his body tense.
"Do you trust me?" she asked, lifting her chin up, inviting confidence.
Castiel swallowed his nervousness. His fingers twitched in his sister's hand, impelling him to hold on to her tighter. He gave a measured nod.
Anna pulled their bodies close. She whispered next to his ear, "Follow my lead," and moved.
No music could be heard, Castiel noticed. After a few clumsy steps, he started to get the hang of it. Anna was sure in her pace, her back erect, and elbows pointing to the sides. Her smile grew wider when they fell into easy rhythms.
"I've missed you, brother."
Castiel pursed his lips; preventing himself from saying he missed her too. He knew none of this was real, that he was dreaming, and that her words were merely a projection of his thoughts. There was no point repeating it.
What confused him, however, was the fact that it was the first time he had such a dream. Whenever he dreamed of his sister, it was always the younger version of her. At least, the little girl first, and then the adult. Never once did it started with the grown-up. He wondered where the little girl went.
"You're thinking too much," Anna said with quiet chuckles as she moved left, forward, and right. Castiel was surprised he could move along with her in perfect synchronization without stepping on her dress or embarrassing himself.
"Why are you here?" he asked bluntly now that he realized, again, that it was just a dream. So what if he could dance in a dream?
"I just want to make sure that you are happy," she replied before spinning him around and catching him again when he returned with a small oomph. Her eyes glinted with amusement.
"I am," he exclaimed as they continued their waltz. He couldn't see why he shouldn't be happy.
"Are you?" his sister inquired with a knowing look.
Well, he had been happy, until he made a terrible mistake. One that, even though he knew Dean would never forgive him, he still did, and was now living the consequences.
"I've made stupid mistakes, grave mistakes, over and over." His sister's voice brought Castiel back to his dream; their rocking cadence a soothing harmony. "Yet you never fail to forgive me. Why is that?"
The answer was simple and clear. "You know I love you."
Anna nodded in acknowledgement. "And Dean, you. He will forgive you."
"You don't know that," Castiel grumbled, looking away from her.
Their steps slowly came to a halt. Even without looking, Cas could hear her affectionate smile in her voice. "I know you love me because you forgive me. You'll know Dean loves you when he forgives you." But when he still refused to look at her, she cupped his cheek and mildly turned his head. Her voice was stern when she asked, "The question is, Castiel, do you forgive yourself?"
Cas repeated the question in his head, and could not conjure an answer. What did he have to forgive himself for, to begin with? What was it that Anna saw, but he couldn't see?
"I'm tired. Can we rest a bit?" Anna suggested.
He gingerly set his sister down on a bed and sat by her side. She looked ill and frail, her usual sparkle drained from her countenance. Cas held her hand. This was way worse than the last time he saw her in person.
"You have to let me go," she said feebly.
Castiel shushed her. "No, you are not going anywhere." He wasn't going to let anything bad happen to her. It was his job to make sure she stayed safe and was well taken care of.
"You have Dean now. You'll be fine."
Shaking his head, Cas refused firmly. "No"
"Do you love him?"
"I-" he opened his mouth to reply, but then shut it. Most of the time he felt like he loved Dean, but it could be nothing more than a physical attraction. More often than not, he was too scared to let himself love, or be loved.
"I- I don't know. I don't know what love is."
That much was true. He wasn't sure if he had ever loved anyone romantically in his life, not even his wife. Daphne happened more out of convenience. She had come when he needed an escape. Their time together was companionable, their departure a mutual deliverance.
"Different people define love differently. You have to define one for yourself," Anna offered her words of wisdom. "Why don't you let Dean know? Maybe he'll help you define yours."
"No, Anna." He shook his head. "I need you." At least with her, it was easier, straightforward. She was his sister, and because of that, he loved her. End of story.
"I don't need you anymore, Castiel. I'm all grown up now. You can let me go."
"No!" Cas bellowed. He started to shake, with fear, or anger, he couldn't pinpoint. Of course, his sister couldn't mean that, could she? How could she not need him? He needed her. They needed each other.
"I love you, brother." Anna placed a hand on his cheek, brushing tears that he didn't realize were forming. "I love you and I have forgiven you - for what happened, to us, to our family, even though it was never your fault. It's time you forgive yourself, Castiel, and be happy with the person who cares for you as much as I do, if not more."
Castiel wiped the tears away with the back of his hands. This was like saying goodbye. He didn't want to say goodbye. "Please, Anna! Why can't you stay? Why can't you both stay? Why do I have to choose?"
Anna placed a hand on Castiel's heart. He clutched at it. "There will come a time when you don't have to," she said warmly.
Her small smile was compassionate, though Castiel could only see it dimly through his tear-filled eyes. Or maybe she was really fading away.
"No, Anna! Don't go!" He tried to take hold of her, but her body was now translucent. The hand that he was clutching dispersed into specks of dust.
"Anna!"
~:~:~
Castiel startled awake. His heart raced and he was drenched in sweat. Dean appeared in his vision at once.
"Oh my God, Cas. You alright?"
Dean yanked him into a tight hug, making the air hot and damp, but Castiel couldn't find the strength to voice his displeasure.
"I called you, so many times. I shook you, but you just wouldn't wake up." Dean's voice was dripping with panic. His hands, if not pulling him into a choking embrace, were roaming all over his body, as if to see if he was still in one piece. "God, I'm so sorry, Cas. You tossed and turned and cried. I've never seen it this bad. I'm so sorry. I thought I would lose you. I shouldn't get mad at you like that. I'm so sorry. I was an idiot. It will never happen again. I'm sorry."
Castiel did not go to sleep again that night. He and Dean just sat against the headboard, leaning onto each other, the dream still vivid in his mind. At some point in time, Dean dozed off. Castiel observed those long eyelashes, freckled cheeks and slightly parted lips, until Dean came to. Dean snuggled closer to him, placing his head on Castiel's shoulder; arm and leg slung over, trapping him. He mumbled something about not letting Cas go, and fell asleep again.
Dean was fully awake sometime at dawn, and he kept alternating between pecking Cas' cheek and nuzzling his neck, for some reason. When the morning alarm blared, Castiel didn't jump as he usually did and he refused to move out of bed. It took Dean a ton of begging and persuasion before Castiel eventually followed Dean to the shower area and then the canteen and back.
Cas did not say a word since he woke up from his nightmare. Dean was tempted to take his cellmate to the infirmary, to have Dr. Balthazar check whether his larynx was still functioning or that he didn't suffer some kind of post traumatic dream disorder.
But then Castiel was called for a visitor, to their shocking surprises. Castiel never had a visitor. Dean was dying to go and see who his caller might be, but decided against it. Then he reasoned to himself that a peek would not hurt. He was the shutcall, after all. He had the right to know everything that was going on in their pen. But then his conscience kicked in and reminded him not to do anything stupid again. At least not to Cas.
When Cas came back, long moments later, his face was blank. Whatever little expression he might have had after the nightmare, was all gone from his face now. Dean came up to him but Cas didn't seem to notice anything beyond his nose. When Cas at last sensed that there was another person with him, this was the first thing he said.
"Dean, let's get out of here."
~:~:~
A/N: To those of you who are still reading this, I deeply apologize for the long absence and the chapter that didn't quite fit the holiday spirit. The next one should be out sooner, but until then, Happy Holidays!