SPN FIC: Reflection of You - 7/10 - R - Dean/Castiel
Title: Reflection of You (7/10)
Rating: R
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys.
Warnings: 5.04: "The End" 'verse - dark, drug use, angst, torture, graphic violence, character death, good guys doing bad things, disturbing content, and an even more disturbing inspiration. Both Dean and Castiel are Not Nice people. That might cover all the bases.
Notes: Part 7: ~4,200 words/~50,000 words. See the first post for the full list of warnings and complete header.
Thanks: More ♥ than I can express to tracy_loo_who, extraonions, deancastiel chat peeps, and quovadimus83.
Summary: When an angel falls, it's impossible to know exactly where they'll crash.
[ One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten ]
"Are you Castiel?"
He glanced up from his book and saw a young woman he didn't recognize standing in front of him. "Yes," he replied. "And who are you?"
"Is it true that you're an angel?" she blurted.
Castiel didn't even let out a sigh. He was used to the question by now. "I was, once."
"Why aren't you still?"
"Because..." Because he made a mistake. He shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's a bit personal." She didn't respond, and he closed his book and sat up. "What's your name?"
"Angela."
He laughed. "Is that why you're curious about me?"
She offered him a small smile, and he slid over on the bench he sat on, tapping the seat next to his with his finger. She hesitated, then took the invitation, swinging her bag to the ground beside them. As she moved next to him, he caught the smell of something pleasant that reminded him of flowers. "Did you come here from Orlando?" he asked.
Angela stiffened. "Yeah. I'd been hiding in one of the city parks, pretty much living in the playground." She let out a bitter sounding laugh. "That would have been my dream house about fifteen years ago, but it was awful. I don't know what I would have done if Dean hadn't found me."
"How long had you been there?"
"I'm not sure." She shook her head. "Maybe two weeks? I lost my little brother, and I was about ready to give up. I didn't think anyone would come."
Castiel closed his eyes. "Dean lost his little brother, too."
"He did?" she asked. "He didn't say anything."
"He wouldn't." Castiel sighed. He supposed the two people in the camp that knew the most about Dean were Bobby, Chuck, and himself, and with Lisa gone, Dean remained a stranger to everyone else. "Who told you I was an angel?"
"Two really sweet girls named Lily and Caroline," Angela said. "They came and talked to me after... after Dean shot that woman. I was a little upset."
"I'm sorry you had to see that."
Angela wiped a hand across her eye. "They said you were good to talk to. I'm... I'm not sure if I believe you're an angel, but they said you were one of the nicest people in this place."
He laughed. "It doesn't matter if you believe it or not. We're all in the same boat now, anyway."
"Cas!" Owen jogged towards the two of them, and the solemn expression on his face made Castiel think he wouldn't like whatever Owen had to say. Owen slowed to a stop, and he looked back and forth between Angela and Castiel before leaning over to whisper in Castiel's ear. "Malcolm's leaving, and he's trying to get everyone to go with him."
"What?" Castiel narrowed his eyes. He had a feeling Malcolm would try something incredibly stupid, but he didn't think it would be so soon. While Castiel would gladly welcome Malcolm's departure, and would probably even gladly send him off with a bottle of champagne as a parting gift, the people in Chitaqua couldn't leave. Whether Malcolm believed it or not, Chitaqua was still the safest place for them to stay. They would be in almost immediate danger the moment they stepped foot outside the wards, especially if they weren't trained in combat.
More importantly, Dean needed the people who were trained to stay. The end was most definitely nigh, and no one in Chitaqua would stand a chance without able-bodied fighters at the front lines.
"I'm sorry, Angela," he said in a swift apology, climbing to his feet. "Something's come up. We'll continue this later?"
Angela started to nod, but stopped herself. "Oh!" she said, pulling her bag up onto her lap. "Before you go, Lily said you might like to have this." She pulled out a large, dark green bottle, and the foil wrapped around the top made Castiel at first think it was that bottle of champagne he'd been thinking about earlier. He glanced at the label and he smiled widely when he saw what it said.
"Absinthe!" he said appreciatively. "I haven't tried that yet." He pushed her hand and the bottle back down towards her bag. "Keep it with you, and you and I will share it tomorrow. Okay?"
Angela nodded, and Castiel smiled at her. There wasn't a question as to why Lily and Caroline had sent Angela to him, and he genuinely did look forward to spending some time with her.
He gestured for Owen to take the lead. They set off across the camp at a determined, quick pace, and Castiel ground his teeth together as his thoughts returned to Malcolm.
"Is he completely out of his mind?" Castiel hissed. Owen only shook his head in response, his frown just as deep as Castiel's.
By the time they reached Malcolm's campsite, his tent was already in pieces on the ground. Several people stood nearby to listen to him as he angrily stuffed the poles and stakes into a bag. Castiel was particularly displeased to see just how many were surrounding him - the number was upwards of twenty. "I don't see why the most ruthless person here wound up in charge," Malcolm said. "And I can't stay here to watch him execute another innocent person."
"You can't leave," Castiel said.
Malcolm turned on Castiel, and his nostrils flared. "What, are you going to stop me?"
"No." Castiel shook his head. "You're free to go as you please. I'm not going to stop you. It's just not safe outside the camp."
"Oh, right. The 'wards' you guys put up." Malcolm rolled his eyes. "Well, it's definitely not safe inside the camp if Dean is going to start killing people just because the so-called 'angel' says they're sick."
Castiel ignored his comment. "What are you intending to do?" he asked.
"I'm going to try and find a doctor. Somebody out there has to be working on a cure." He turned around and started rolling up his tent. "More importantly, I'm getting the hell out of here. And you all should, too," he added, looking up at the people watching him. Castiel wasn't surprised to note that quite a few the newer folks from Orlando were among the people gawking.
"Chitaqua is the safest place in the country, if not the world," Castiel said. "Maybe you should stop and think about that for a bit, and stop encouraging others to make rash decisions that will probably get them killed."
Malcolm finished wrapping up his tent, and looked up at Castiel with a deep frown. "You've got a really high opinion of yourself, don't you?" he muttered.
"No, I really don't."
"But you think people are safer with you than with anyone else?"
"They're not safer with me," Castiel insisted. "They're safer here. And they should think about that before running off on some wild goose chase with you." He wasn't sure how to reason with Malcolm. It was difficult to explain that a cure for a demonic virus didn't exist when the man didn't believe in demons to begin with.
Malcolm pursed his lips and seemed to considering staring Castiel down before he finally shook his head. "Fine." He looked over at the people who had been watching him. "He's right, kind of. You all should think about who you're going to wind up feeling safer with - a guy who's gonna kill someone at the word of a drunk who thinks he's an angel, or me, someone who's been to war before and knows how to take care of people." He shrugged on his backpack. "I'll be back in the morning, and whoever wants to get the hell out of this deathtrap is free to come with me." He glanced over at Castiel and sneered. "Anyone who wants to wind up dead can stay and get dead."
"Where are you going?" Castiel asked.
"Away from here," Malcolm snapped, and he turned on his heel and began heading towards the camp entrance.
Castiel looked from him to the people watching him leave, and he didn't like how many of them wore expressions of fear - or worse, contemplation. Many of them, especially the newer people that had just arrived earlier that day, surely doubted the existence of demons, and most of them would never believe that their true enemy wasn't the Croatoan virus but actually Lucifer himself. To their ears, Malcolm would sound like the more sane option, and Castiel had no way of proving him wrong.
However good his intentions were, Malcolm was threatening their already doomed future.
Castiel knew exactly how he would have handled Malcolm had he still been an angel. Malcolm would be locked up, kept away from others where he wouldn't be a threat. Unfortunately, Castiel only had the power and strength of one man, and spiriting Malcolm away from Chitaqua wasn't an option.
In a split-second decision, Castiel grabbed Owen's arm and pulled him away from the others. "I need you to follow him," he said quietly, his hand coming to rest on Owen's shoulder.
Owen blinked in surprise. "What?"
"He's leaving on foot and he said he'll be back early tomorrow, so he won't be going far," he said. "But I need to know exactly where he's going."
"Uh... okay," Owen said with a nod, and his hesitation quickly turned into confidence. "I can do that."
"Good." Castiel nodded back. "Now, he's experienced, but do not let him know that you're behind him. Whenever he's settled in somewhere, come back here and let me know where he is."
Owen's throat bobbed as he took a deep swallow, but he inclined his head one more time in acknowledgment before turning to peer in the direction Malcolm had gone. Castiel grabbed his arm once more before he took off.
"Be subtle," Castiel said, his voice firm, hoping Owen understood just how much he needed Owen to follow his instructions to the last letter. "Be careful about who sees you leave."
"Don't worry, Cas," Owen said, offering a smile that Castiel could only describe as clever. "I can handle this. I'm not gonna let you down." He set off in an apparent casual pace towards the woods, and Castiel watched until he reached the treeline before he took off at a sprint, disappearing under the cover of the forest.
* * *
"You still have that?"
Castiel froze. He'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't heard Dean come in. "Of course I do," he replied, keeping his back turned, as if he was worried that Dean would be able to tell exactly what he was thinking just by looking at his face. "It was a gift." He slid the knife back into the sheath and forced down the memory of the day he'd received the knife.
Dean had given it to him, back when Dean could still give him a genuine laugh, and when both of them had far fewer things to worry about day in and day out. The knife was a painful reminder of a time when things had been happier, simpler. Castiel let out a deep breath and tried to ease the tension running between his shoulder blades away.
"I'm surprised you even still keep it sharpened," Dean said.
Castiel finally looked back over his shoulder. "Why are you surprised?" He wonder what Dean must have thought about him, if he thought Castiel didn't even take care of his weapons.
Dean shrugged and made non-committal sound, shrugging off his coat and turning to sit on one of the rickety wooden chairs. "I just haven't seen you use it in a while."
"I haven't needed it to use it in a while."
"And you need it now?"
Castiel nodded. He tried to concentrate, making sure his expression and words didn't give anything away. He'd never lied to Dean before. He supposed he'd told lies that he had assumed were the truth, and he'd left out pieces of information that he didn't think were necessary for Dean to know, but he had never flat-out lied to Dean. Dean knew him better than anyone else in the camp, but he didn't know if Dean was still able to read him as well as once could. "Something Malcolm said..."
Dean snorted. "Malcolm's an ass." He stretched and cracked his neck before glancing back at Castiel again.
Normally Castiel would have laughed, but tonight he could only force himself to give Dean a wry smile. "He is, but if I'm promising that people will be safe here, I should make sure they're actually safe." He tucked the knife into his jeans, using that as an excuse to not meet Dean's eyes. "I'm going to check all the wards tonight."
"Why do you need a knife to check the wards?"
Castiel steeled himself before finally lifting his gaze to Dean's, and all he could do was hope it was steady. "Several of the sigils have to be written in blood, Dean. I made sure they were well protected when we put them into place, but if any of them have become worn I'll need to reinforce them."
Dean considered him for a moment, frowning. "You're not gonna accidentally bleed yourself out or something, are you?"
"I know what I'm doing, Dean," Castiel replied with a sigh.
Dean sniffed. "Right."
Castiel headed towards the door, but a sudden whisper in the back of his mind made him pause and look back. Dean rarely showed any concern for Castiel's well-being anymore, and it wasn't like him to worry over something he knew Castiel was experienced in. "Are you all right, Dean?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Castiel shifted on his feet, unsure of how to breach the subject. "With... with Lisa..."
"I'm fine," Dean said. "Go do your thing." His tone of voice made it clear that he considered the matter closed, and he stripped off his shirt and started towards the back room, evidently turning in for the night.
Castiel watched Dean for a moment before he finally headed towards the door, only stopping when he heard Dean's voice again, so quiet that he barely heard it. "I loved her, Cas."
Letting his eyes fall shut, Castiel tried to swallow the lump that suddenly formed in his throat. He didn't dare respond, and he didn't dare turn around.
"I loved her," Dean said again. "But I wasn't in love with her."
Castiel let out a shuddering breath. "I don't... I don't what to say to that, Dean," he said in complete and total honesty.
"I figured," Dean said, his voice even quieter. "I just thought you should know."
Castiel nodded, and he heard Dean leave, going into the back room again. Castiel dropped his head and placed his hand over his eyes, trying to ease the shaking that had suddenly overcome his body.
He knew the wise thing to do would be to stay with Dean and make sure he was okay, but he had something much larger to worry about. He forced himself to push his concern to the back of his mind, and he shoved his emotions down.
He finally let out a deep breath, and went out the door without another word.
* * *
He paced near the edge of the camp under the dim moonlight, keeping his eyes on the trees and watching for any sign of movement. Owen should have been back already, and Castiel needed all the time he could spare.
There was one advantage to waiting, though. The longer he had to mull over his plan and everything it meant, the more sure of it he became. The pros outweighed the cons, even if he knew that most people in the camp - Dean and Bobby included - would surely not approve of his course of action.
He couldn't expect them to understand. Humanity always tended to think in the here and now, and they rarely thought about how the failure of one person could bring deadly consequences to so many people. Castiel wasn't an angel any longer, but he still held a deeper understanding of the larger picture than anyone else in Chitaqua. He'd seen too many deaths come to pass due to one misguided decision, and he couldn't allow it to happen here.
They were already barreling towards the end at lightning speed, and they didn't need anyone to unknowingly force the end to come any faster.
"Castiel?"
He cursed under his breath, but didn't take his eyes off of the treeline. "Yes, Lily?"
"Have you seen Owen?" she asked. "He didn't show up for dinner, and I'm worried about him."
Castiel finally looked over his shoulder, and he could see her concern, clearly evident on her face. "He's fine," he replied. "He's doing a favor for me."
She let out a sigh of relief just as Caroline, Joe and Bea all walked up behind her. "Can I do anything to help?" she asked.
Castiel shook his head. He didn't want them to be any more involved than they already were. "Thank you, but no."
The four of them talked quietly for a moment, and he turned back to face the forest once more. As if on cue, Owen emerged from the trees. He spotted Castiel and the others and jogged over.
"He's settled," Owen said quietly. "He was just wandering around for a long time, but he finally seems to be down for the night."
"Good," Castiel said, nodding. "Where is he?"
"A little over a mile to the southeast."
"What's going on?" Joe asked.
"Nothing," Castiel said. "It's something I'll take care of myself."
"I know what you're planning," Owen said. "And you can't do this by yourself."
"I can, and I will."
"Maybe you can, but you shouldn't. It's too risky."
Castiel sighed. Owen clearly already knew more than he should, but it had been unpreventable. He supposed he could have followed Malcolm himself instead of sending Owen, but it would have created far too many questions, especially after the confrontation he'd already had with Malcolm. "I don't want you to be involved in this," he said quietly.
"You know how much we respect you, right?" Joe asked.
"I think it's safe to say we'd do pretty much anything to help you," Bea chimed in. "You've kept us all going in a world that royally sucks."
Castiel shook his head insistently. "This isn't something I want on your hands."
"Is it something that would protect Dean?" Caroline asked. "And the rest of Chitaqua?"
Castiel opened his mouth, but Owen cut in before he could answer her. "It is," Owen said. "Someone is threatening this camp, and everyone inside of it - including Dean."
"Then this is our responsibility, anyway," Joe said.
"We're talking about Malcolm, aren't we?" Bea asked.
Castiel narrowed his eyes, disappointed but unsurprised that she had figured it out so fast. "Yes."
"Then it's something we definitely need to take care of." Bea set her jaw, and Castiel recognized the expression she only wore when she refused to back down.
"Besides, I'm the only one who knows exactly where he is," Owen said. "Are you just going to wander around until you find him?"
Castiel studied the five of them, and the fierce determination in everyone's eyes not only mirrored but also possibly surpassed his own. "Fine," he finally said in agreement. "But you all need to remember that this is not a game." He caught each of their gazes, making sure they all knew exactly how serious the situation was.
"We know that," Caroline said. "We just want to help you like you've helped all of us."
Castiel nodded, and together, they quickly came up with a course of action.
As they moved into the forest with Owen in the lead, Castiel's mind raced at top speed. He was surprised to find himself somewhat relieved that they not only agreed with what he planned to do, but would also stand at his side without any question or doubt. At the same time, though, he couldn't stop his chest from tightening up as he mulled over what he wound up inadvertently asking them to do. He'd been around for longer than all five of them combined, and in his time he had carried out decisions and orders much more questionable than this one.
His hands had long been covered in blood, but tonight he would coat the hands of others that had always been clean.
* * *
Malcolm was still awake by the time they came upon him. That put them at an immediate disadvantage, but they had prepared for that, and they moved soundlessly through the brush, forming a semi-circle at his back. Malcolm had no fire lit, and he sat on a overturned log, staring sightlessly into the trees. He didn't seem to be paying the slightest amount of attention to his surroundings, which was a glimmer of luck that Castiel was very glad to see.
Castiel caught everyone's eyes, and he signaled Bea and Joe to get ready. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer - a habit he still found himself falling back on once in a while, even after his powers had been torn out of him. He took a deep breath, braced himself and crouched down, coiling up and preparing to spring.
They only had one shot to get this right.
He shot forward, moving through the trees with Bea and Joe close on his heels. Castiel collided with Malcolm, sending them both pitching forward toward the ground. He looped one arm tight around Malcolm's neck, and his free hand slammed down on Malcolm's mouth before Malcolm could make a sound. Joe and Bea each grabbed one of Malcolm's arm, and all four of them landed in a pile on the forest floor.
Malcolm was stronger than Castiel anticipated, and he managed to break Joe's hold on him with a well-placed kick to the shin. He reared back even while he was still pinned by Castiel's entire body weight, and just as he moved his free arm to send a fist flying towards Bea, Owen tore through the trees and planted his foot in Malcolm's gut.
It took all four of them to hold him, and he never stopped struggling. His eyes blazed at Castiel around the hand Castiel held over his mouth.
"I am sorry for this," Castiel said quietly. "Even though I know you won't believe that."
Malcolm tried to shout something, but it was too muffled and distorted by Castiel's palm for any of them to understand.
"You do have good intentions, but you're incredibly misguided," Castiel continued. "I can't, in good conscience, allow you to carry out something that would result in the death of anyone you convinced to go with you."
Castiel saw Lily and Caroline move into his line of vision, and when he looked over at them his knife was already out and ready in Caroline's hands.
"Now?" Caroline asked.
It seemed that Malcolm had seen the knife as well, and he screamed out from behind Castiel's palm. He suddenly jerked his head, and Castiel cried out as Malcolm's teeth landed firmly in the skin of his hand.
"You're all fucking insane!" Malcolm shouted when Castiel released his mouth. Even through the pain racing through his hand, Castiel knew that he needed to be silenced immediately. They were too close to Chitaqua, and the risk of someone hearing him was far too great.
"Now!" Castiel hissed at Caroline.
Caroline sprang foward, and Castiel winced as the knife slid into Malcolm's stomach. He hadn't thought to tell her what to aim for, and the gut wouldn't be enough. Malcolm screamed in pain and jerked violently, enough that Owen lost the grip he had on Malcolm's legs. Malcolm kicked out, and even with the wound to his stomach his strength was still enough to send Caroline flying backwards. The knife went with her, and it fell to the ground.
Lily moved with a swiftness and grace that surprised Castiel, and the knife was in her hands and sinking into Malcolm's chest before he could blink.
Malcolm's cried out again, quieter, with a painful sounding gurgle was laced underneath it, and his already weakening struggles ceased.
Castiel leaned forward and wrapped his hand around Lily's, which was still braced on the knife's handle. "We're not here to torture him," he said quietly. "Don't let him suffer." He guided her hand and the knife out of Malcolm's chest, placing it at Malcolm's neck. Lily nodded at him, and Castiel braced himself just as she did the same.
Her movement was just as quick as before, and the knife slid across Malcolm's throat, leaving a deep, violent gash in its path.
Malcolm's life bled out of him and to the ground beneath them at an alarming rate, but Castiel found himself grateful that he was fading so fast. When the last hint of light winked out of his eyes, Castiel let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and he silently mourned for every last person gathered there on the forest floor.
Although Castiel could allow himself a small comfort by knowing that Malcolm was now at peace, and that his death had been unfortunately necessary, Castiel knew he had still turned five young men and women into murderers.
And together, they had taken the life of a man whose only crime had been doing what he thought was right.
Part Eight
Rating: R
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys.
Warnings: 5.04: "The End" 'verse - dark, drug use, angst, torture, graphic violence, character death, good guys doing bad things, disturbing content, and an even more disturbing inspiration. Both Dean and Castiel are Not Nice people. That might cover all the bases.
Notes: Part 7: ~4,200 words/~50,000 words. See the first post for the full list of warnings and complete header.
Thanks: More ♥ than I can express to tracy_loo_who, extraonions, deancastiel chat peeps, and quovadimus83.
Summary: When an angel falls, it's impossible to know exactly where they'll crash.
[ One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten ]
"Are you Castiel?"
He glanced up from his book and saw a young woman he didn't recognize standing in front of him. "Yes," he replied. "And who are you?"
"Is it true that you're an angel?" she blurted.
Castiel didn't even let out a sigh. He was used to the question by now. "I was, once."
"Why aren't you still?"
"Because..." Because he made a mistake. He shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's a bit personal." She didn't respond, and he closed his book and sat up. "What's your name?"
"Angela."
He laughed. "Is that why you're curious about me?"
She offered him a small smile, and he slid over on the bench he sat on, tapping the seat next to his with his finger. She hesitated, then took the invitation, swinging her bag to the ground beside them. As she moved next to him, he caught the smell of something pleasant that reminded him of flowers. "Did you come here from Orlando?" he asked.
Angela stiffened. "Yeah. I'd been hiding in one of the city parks, pretty much living in the playground." She let out a bitter sounding laugh. "That would have been my dream house about fifteen years ago, but it was awful. I don't know what I would have done if Dean hadn't found me."
"How long had you been there?"
"I'm not sure." She shook her head. "Maybe two weeks? I lost my little brother, and I was about ready to give up. I didn't think anyone would come."
Castiel closed his eyes. "Dean lost his little brother, too."
"He did?" she asked. "He didn't say anything."
"He wouldn't." Castiel sighed. He supposed the two people in the camp that knew the most about Dean were Bobby, Chuck, and himself, and with Lisa gone, Dean remained a stranger to everyone else. "Who told you I was an angel?"
"Two really sweet girls named Lily and Caroline," Angela said. "They came and talked to me after... after Dean shot that woman. I was a little upset."
"I'm sorry you had to see that."
Angela wiped a hand across her eye. "They said you were good to talk to. I'm... I'm not sure if I believe you're an angel, but they said you were one of the nicest people in this place."
He laughed. "It doesn't matter if you believe it or not. We're all in the same boat now, anyway."
"Cas!" Owen jogged towards the two of them, and the solemn expression on his face made Castiel think he wouldn't like whatever Owen had to say. Owen slowed to a stop, and he looked back and forth between Angela and Castiel before leaning over to whisper in Castiel's ear. "Malcolm's leaving, and he's trying to get everyone to go with him."
"What?" Castiel narrowed his eyes. He had a feeling Malcolm would try something incredibly stupid, but he didn't think it would be so soon. While Castiel would gladly welcome Malcolm's departure, and would probably even gladly send him off with a bottle of champagne as a parting gift, the people in Chitaqua couldn't leave. Whether Malcolm believed it or not, Chitaqua was still the safest place for them to stay. They would be in almost immediate danger the moment they stepped foot outside the wards, especially if they weren't trained in combat.
More importantly, Dean needed the people who were trained to stay. The end was most definitely nigh, and no one in Chitaqua would stand a chance without able-bodied fighters at the front lines.
"I'm sorry, Angela," he said in a swift apology, climbing to his feet. "Something's come up. We'll continue this later?"
Angela started to nod, but stopped herself. "Oh!" she said, pulling her bag up onto her lap. "Before you go, Lily said you might like to have this." She pulled out a large, dark green bottle, and the foil wrapped around the top made Castiel at first think it was that bottle of champagne he'd been thinking about earlier. He glanced at the label and he smiled widely when he saw what it said.
"Absinthe!" he said appreciatively. "I haven't tried that yet." He pushed her hand and the bottle back down towards her bag. "Keep it with you, and you and I will share it tomorrow. Okay?"
Angela nodded, and Castiel smiled at her. There wasn't a question as to why Lily and Caroline had sent Angela to him, and he genuinely did look forward to spending some time with her.
He gestured for Owen to take the lead. They set off across the camp at a determined, quick pace, and Castiel ground his teeth together as his thoughts returned to Malcolm.
"Is he completely out of his mind?" Castiel hissed. Owen only shook his head in response, his frown just as deep as Castiel's.
By the time they reached Malcolm's campsite, his tent was already in pieces on the ground. Several people stood nearby to listen to him as he angrily stuffed the poles and stakes into a bag. Castiel was particularly displeased to see just how many were surrounding him - the number was upwards of twenty. "I don't see why the most ruthless person here wound up in charge," Malcolm said. "And I can't stay here to watch him execute another innocent person."
"You can't leave," Castiel said.
Malcolm turned on Castiel, and his nostrils flared. "What, are you going to stop me?"
"No." Castiel shook his head. "You're free to go as you please. I'm not going to stop you. It's just not safe outside the camp."
"Oh, right. The 'wards' you guys put up." Malcolm rolled his eyes. "Well, it's definitely not safe inside the camp if Dean is going to start killing people just because the so-called 'angel' says they're sick."
Castiel ignored his comment. "What are you intending to do?" he asked.
"I'm going to try and find a doctor. Somebody out there has to be working on a cure." He turned around and started rolling up his tent. "More importantly, I'm getting the hell out of here. And you all should, too," he added, looking up at the people watching him. Castiel wasn't surprised to note that quite a few the newer folks from Orlando were among the people gawking.
"Chitaqua is the safest place in the country, if not the world," Castiel said. "Maybe you should stop and think about that for a bit, and stop encouraging others to make rash decisions that will probably get them killed."
Malcolm finished wrapping up his tent, and looked up at Castiel with a deep frown. "You've got a really high opinion of yourself, don't you?" he muttered.
"No, I really don't."
"But you think people are safer with you than with anyone else?"
"They're not safer with me," Castiel insisted. "They're safer here. And they should think about that before running off on some wild goose chase with you." He wasn't sure how to reason with Malcolm. It was difficult to explain that a cure for a demonic virus didn't exist when the man didn't believe in demons to begin with.
Malcolm pursed his lips and seemed to considering staring Castiel down before he finally shook his head. "Fine." He looked over at the people who had been watching him. "He's right, kind of. You all should think about who you're going to wind up feeling safer with - a guy who's gonna kill someone at the word of a drunk who thinks he's an angel, or me, someone who's been to war before and knows how to take care of people." He shrugged on his backpack. "I'll be back in the morning, and whoever wants to get the hell out of this deathtrap is free to come with me." He glanced over at Castiel and sneered. "Anyone who wants to wind up dead can stay and get dead."
"Where are you going?" Castiel asked.
"Away from here," Malcolm snapped, and he turned on his heel and began heading towards the camp entrance.
Castiel looked from him to the people watching him leave, and he didn't like how many of them wore expressions of fear - or worse, contemplation. Many of them, especially the newer people that had just arrived earlier that day, surely doubted the existence of demons, and most of them would never believe that their true enemy wasn't the Croatoan virus but actually Lucifer himself. To their ears, Malcolm would sound like the more sane option, and Castiel had no way of proving him wrong.
However good his intentions were, Malcolm was threatening their already doomed future.
Castiel knew exactly how he would have handled Malcolm had he still been an angel. Malcolm would be locked up, kept away from others where he wouldn't be a threat. Unfortunately, Castiel only had the power and strength of one man, and spiriting Malcolm away from Chitaqua wasn't an option.
In a split-second decision, Castiel grabbed Owen's arm and pulled him away from the others. "I need you to follow him," he said quietly, his hand coming to rest on Owen's shoulder.
Owen blinked in surprise. "What?"
"He's leaving on foot and he said he'll be back early tomorrow, so he won't be going far," he said. "But I need to know exactly where he's going."
"Uh... okay," Owen said with a nod, and his hesitation quickly turned into confidence. "I can do that."
"Good." Castiel nodded back. "Now, he's experienced, but do not let him know that you're behind him. Whenever he's settled in somewhere, come back here and let me know where he is."
Owen's throat bobbed as he took a deep swallow, but he inclined his head one more time in acknowledgment before turning to peer in the direction Malcolm had gone. Castiel grabbed his arm once more before he took off.
"Be subtle," Castiel said, his voice firm, hoping Owen understood just how much he needed Owen to follow his instructions to the last letter. "Be careful about who sees you leave."
"Don't worry, Cas," Owen said, offering a smile that Castiel could only describe as clever. "I can handle this. I'm not gonna let you down." He set off in an apparent casual pace towards the woods, and Castiel watched until he reached the treeline before he took off at a sprint, disappearing under the cover of the forest.
* * *
"You still have that?"
Castiel froze. He'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't heard Dean come in. "Of course I do," he replied, keeping his back turned, as if he was worried that Dean would be able to tell exactly what he was thinking just by looking at his face. "It was a gift." He slid the knife back into the sheath and forced down the memory of the day he'd received the knife.
Dean had given it to him, back when Dean could still give him a genuine laugh, and when both of them had far fewer things to worry about day in and day out. The knife was a painful reminder of a time when things had been happier, simpler. Castiel let out a deep breath and tried to ease the tension running between his shoulder blades away.
"I'm surprised you even still keep it sharpened," Dean said.
Castiel finally looked back over his shoulder. "Why are you surprised?" He wonder what Dean must have thought about him, if he thought Castiel didn't even take care of his weapons.
Dean shrugged and made non-committal sound, shrugging off his coat and turning to sit on one of the rickety wooden chairs. "I just haven't seen you use it in a while."
"I haven't needed it to use it in a while."
"And you need it now?"
Castiel nodded. He tried to concentrate, making sure his expression and words didn't give anything away. He'd never lied to Dean before. He supposed he'd told lies that he had assumed were the truth, and he'd left out pieces of information that he didn't think were necessary for Dean to know, but he had never flat-out lied to Dean. Dean knew him better than anyone else in the camp, but he didn't know if Dean was still able to read him as well as once could. "Something Malcolm said..."
Dean snorted. "Malcolm's an ass." He stretched and cracked his neck before glancing back at Castiel again.
Normally Castiel would have laughed, but tonight he could only force himself to give Dean a wry smile. "He is, but if I'm promising that people will be safe here, I should make sure they're actually safe." He tucked the knife into his jeans, using that as an excuse to not meet Dean's eyes. "I'm going to check all the wards tonight."
"Why do you need a knife to check the wards?"
Castiel steeled himself before finally lifting his gaze to Dean's, and all he could do was hope it was steady. "Several of the sigils have to be written in blood, Dean. I made sure they were well protected when we put them into place, but if any of them have become worn I'll need to reinforce them."
Dean considered him for a moment, frowning. "You're not gonna accidentally bleed yourself out or something, are you?"
"I know what I'm doing, Dean," Castiel replied with a sigh.
Dean sniffed. "Right."
Castiel headed towards the door, but a sudden whisper in the back of his mind made him pause and look back. Dean rarely showed any concern for Castiel's well-being anymore, and it wasn't like him to worry over something he knew Castiel was experienced in. "Are you all right, Dean?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Castiel shifted on his feet, unsure of how to breach the subject. "With... with Lisa..."
"I'm fine," Dean said. "Go do your thing." His tone of voice made it clear that he considered the matter closed, and he stripped off his shirt and started towards the back room, evidently turning in for the night.
Castiel watched Dean for a moment before he finally headed towards the door, only stopping when he heard Dean's voice again, so quiet that he barely heard it. "I loved her, Cas."
Letting his eyes fall shut, Castiel tried to swallow the lump that suddenly formed in his throat. He didn't dare respond, and he didn't dare turn around.
"I loved her," Dean said again. "But I wasn't in love with her."
Castiel let out a shuddering breath. "I don't... I don't what to say to that, Dean," he said in complete and total honesty.
"I figured," Dean said, his voice even quieter. "I just thought you should know."
Castiel nodded, and he heard Dean leave, going into the back room again. Castiel dropped his head and placed his hand over his eyes, trying to ease the shaking that had suddenly overcome his body.
He knew the wise thing to do would be to stay with Dean and make sure he was okay, but he had something much larger to worry about. He forced himself to push his concern to the back of his mind, and he shoved his emotions down.
He finally let out a deep breath, and went out the door without another word.
* * *
He paced near the edge of the camp under the dim moonlight, keeping his eyes on the trees and watching for any sign of movement. Owen should have been back already, and Castiel needed all the time he could spare.
There was one advantage to waiting, though. The longer he had to mull over his plan and everything it meant, the more sure of it he became. The pros outweighed the cons, even if he knew that most people in the camp - Dean and Bobby included - would surely not approve of his course of action.
He couldn't expect them to understand. Humanity always tended to think in the here and now, and they rarely thought about how the failure of one person could bring deadly consequences to so many people. Castiel wasn't an angel any longer, but he still held a deeper understanding of the larger picture than anyone else in Chitaqua. He'd seen too many deaths come to pass due to one misguided decision, and he couldn't allow it to happen here.
They were already barreling towards the end at lightning speed, and they didn't need anyone to unknowingly force the end to come any faster.
"Castiel?"
He cursed under his breath, but didn't take his eyes off of the treeline. "Yes, Lily?"
"Have you seen Owen?" she asked. "He didn't show up for dinner, and I'm worried about him."
Castiel finally looked over his shoulder, and he could see her concern, clearly evident on her face. "He's fine," he replied. "He's doing a favor for me."
She let out a sigh of relief just as Caroline, Joe and Bea all walked up behind her. "Can I do anything to help?" she asked.
Castiel shook his head. He didn't want them to be any more involved than they already were. "Thank you, but no."
The four of them talked quietly for a moment, and he turned back to face the forest once more. As if on cue, Owen emerged from the trees. He spotted Castiel and the others and jogged over.
"He's settled," Owen said quietly. "He was just wandering around for a long time, but he finally seems to be down for the night."
"Good," Castiel said, nodding. "Where is he?"
"A little over a mile to the southeast."
"What's going on?" Joe asked.
"Nothing," Castiel said. "It's something I'll take care of myself."
"I know what you're planning," Owen said. "And you can't do this by yourself."
"I can, and I will."
"Maybe you can, but you shouldn't. It's too risky."
Castiel sighed. Owen clearly already knew more than he should, but it had been unpreventable. He supposed he could have followed Malcolm himself instead of sending Owen, but it would have created far too many questions, especially after the confrontation he'd already had with Malcolm. "I don't want you to be involved in this," he said quietly.
"You know how much we respect you, right?" Joe asked.
"I think it's safe to say we'd do pretty much anything to help you," Bea chimed in. "You've kept us all going in a world that royally sucks."
Castiel shook his head insistently. "This isn't something I want on your hands."
"Is it something that would protect Dean?" Caroline asked. "And the rest of Chitaqua?"
Castiel opened his mouth, but Owen cut in before he could answer her. "It is," Owen said. "Someone is threatening this camp, and everyone inside of it - including Dean."
"Then this is our responsibility, anyway," Joe said.
"We're talking about Malcolm, aren't we?" Bea asked.
Castiel narrowed his eyes, disappointed but unsurprised that she had figured it out so fast. "Yes."
"Then it's something we definitely need to take care of." Bea set her jaw, and Castiel recognized the expression she only wore when she refused to back down.
"Besides, I'm the only one who knows exactly where he is," Owen said. "Are you just going to wander around until you find him?"
Castiel studied the five of them, and the fierce determination in everyone's eyes not only mirrored but also possibly surpassed his own. "Fine," he finally said in agreement. "But you all need to remember that this is not a game." He caught each of their gazes, making sure they all knew exactly how serious the situation was.
"We know that," Caroline said. "We just want to help you like you've helped all of us."
Castiel nodded, and together, they quickly came up with a course of action.
As they moved into the forest with Owen in the lead, Castiel's mind raced at top speed. He was surprised to find himself somewhat relieved that they not only agreed with what he planned to do, but would also stand at his side without any question or doubt. At the same time, though, he couldn't stop his chest from tightening up as he mulled over what he wound up inadvertently asking them to do. He'd been around for longer than all five of them combined, and in his time he had carried out decisions and orders much more questionable than this one.
His hands had long been covered in blood, but tonight he would coat the hands of others that had always been clean.
* * *
Malcolm was still awake by the time they came upon him. That put them at an immediate disadvantage, but they had prepared for that, and they moved soundlessly through the brush, forming a semi-circle at his back. Malcolm had no fire lit, and he sat on a overturned log, staring sightlessly into the trees. He didn't seem to be paying the slightest amount of attention to his surroundings, which was a glimmer of luck that Castiel was very glad to see.
Castiel caught everyone's eyes, and he signaled Bea and Joe to get ready. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer - a habit he still found himself falling back on once in a while, even after his powers had been torn out of him. He took a deep breath, braced himself and crouched down, coiling up and preparing to spring.
They only had one shot to get this right.
He shot forward, moving through the trees with Bea and Joe close on his heels. Castiel collided with Malcolm, sending them both pitching forward toward the ground. He looped one arm tight around Malcolm's neck, and his free hand slammed down on Malcolm's mouth before Malcolm could make a sound. Joe and Bea each grabbed one of Malcolm's arm, and all four of them landed in a pile on the forest floor.
Malcolm was stronger than Castiel anticipated, and he managed to break Joe's hold on him with a well-placed kick to the shin. He reared back even while he was still pinned by Castiel's entire body weight, and just as he moved his free arm to send a fist flying towards Bea, Owen tore through the trees and planted his foot in Malcolm's gut.
It took all four of them to hold him, and he never stopped struggling. His eyes blazed at Castiel around the hand Castiel held over his mouth.
"I am sorry for this," Castiel said quietly. "Even though I know you won't believe that."
Malcolm tried to shout something, but it was too muffled and distorted by Castiel's palm for any of them to understand.
"You do have good intentions, but you're incredibly misguided," Castiel continued. "I can't, in good conscience, allow you to carry out something that would result in the death of anyone you convinced to go with you."
Castiel saw Lily and Caroline move into his line of vision, and when he looked over at them his knife was already out and ready in Caroline's hands.
"Now?" Caroline asked.
It seemed that Malcolm had seen the knife as well, and he screamed out from behind Castiel's palm. He suddenly jerked his head, and Castiel cried out as Malcolm's teeth landed firmly in the skin of his hand.
"You're all fucking insane!" Malcolm shouted when Castiel released his mouth. Even through the pain racing through his hand, Castiel knew that he needed to be silenced immediately. They were too close to Chitaqua, and the risk of someone hearing him was far too great.
"Now!" Castiel hissed at Caroline.
Caroline sprang foward, and Castiel winced as the knife slid into Malcolm's stomach. He hadn't thought to tell her what to aim for, and the gut wouldn't be enough. Malcolm screamed in pain and jerked violently, enough that Owen lost the grip he had on Malcolm's legs. Malcolm kicked out, and even with the wound to his stomach his strength was still enough to send Caroline flying backwards. The knife went with her, and it fell to the ground.
Lily moved with a swiftness and grace that surprised Castiel, and the knife was in her hands and sinking into Malcolm's chest before he could blink.
Malcolm's cried out again, quieter, with a painful sounding gurgle was laced underneath it, and his already weakening struggles ceased.
Castiel leaned forward and wrapped his hand around Lily's, which was still braced on the knife's handle. "We're not here to torture him," he said quietly. "Don't let him suffer." He guided her hand and the knife out of Malcolm's chest, placing it at Malcolm's neck. Lily nodded at him, and Castiel braced himself just as she did the same.
Her movement was just as quick as before, and the knife slid across Malcolm's throat, leaving a deep, violent gash in its path.
Malcolm's life bled out of him and to the ground beneath them at an alarming rate, but Castiel found himself grateful that he was fading so fast. When the last hint of light winked out of his eyes, Castiel let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and he silently mourned for every last person gathered there on the forest floor.
Although Castiel could allow himself a small comfort by knowing that Malcolm was now at peace, and that his death had been unfortunately necessary, Castiel knew he had still turned five young men and women into murderers.
And together, they had taken the life of a man whose only crime had been doing what he thought was right.
Part Eight