[Big Bang] Turning Back the Clocks, Part Three
Title: Turning Back the Clocks
Fandom/Genre: Supernatural
Pairing(s): future!Cas/future!Dean, Dean/Castiel, one-sided future!Cas/Dean, and vague hints of Crowley/future!Cas
Summary: Zachariah brings future!Cas into the present day in hopes of making the present-day Castiel fall into line. But Cas has his own plans, and refuses to let Dean die like he did in 2014. Whether Dean likes it or not. With a little help from some unusual sources-- namely a fallen angel turned demon, an angel turned pagan, and a motley crew of hunters-- Cas will attempt to avert the End.
Masterpost
TURNING BACK THE CLOCKS
Part Three
Gabriel practiced booze and decadence better than Cas did, truth be told. He lived in the Penthouse suites of numerous hotels littered all over the country, each one decorated in black, white, and red. He had a four-year-old dog named Lucky and beautiful women appeared whenever he snapped his fingers.
Cas couldn't bring himself to enjoy a single bit of it.
"I'll get you a cat if you don't like dogs," Gabriel wheedled. He was sitting in a red armchair, dressed down to boxers and a tank top with a stack of chocolate bars beside him. "Lucky would probably like someone to chase around when I'm off tricking idiots and losers anyway."
"It's not your choice in animal companion that I find frustrating," Cas said.
Gabriel huffed loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. A piece of chocolate smeared into his shirt. "I can't believe you're brooding over Dean leaving you like you're a teenager. The guy's a lunkhead." He paused, eyes lighting up. "Want me to trick him?"
"No. Leave Dean alone."
Cas had gone with Gabriel after Dean had left him there, lacking anywhere else to turn. Gabriel had seemed oddly grateful, though they hadn't spoken a word for the rest of that day. It seemed like too much pain for any one day to hold. And the funny thing was, it was little more than history repeating itself, no matter how much Cas tried to change things.
"I've given Sam a personal tricking before. Dean-o needs a good trick of his own."
"You do realize you sound like a whore when you talk about tricking in that way."
Gabriel started laughing; Castiel wasn't sure why. The dog Lucky jumped into his lap and, absently, Gabriel began to pet him. "Sometimes, you rock, Castiel."
Cas shrugged. "Shouldn't you be trying to warn the other gods?" he said to change the subject.
Gabriel's lips thinned. "No. I've gotten the word out to enough of them that if they don't believe me at this point, they won't."
"Don't try to save them if they meet at Elysian Fields, Gabriel. It's not worth it. You'll try to kill Lucifer and you will fail."
"Screw that noise. Why would I try to kill my brother anyway? It would be much more likely to succeed if we trapped him."
Cas blinked. "Trapped him."
Frowning, Gabriel nodded. "Yeah. Didn't I mention it in the future? The horsemen's rings are the keys to Lucifer's gate. If you get them all…."
"We can trap him." For the first time in years, Cas started to feel hope. This might not be his world, and yet, here he was, still trying to save it. "We must inform Dean."
"No, we mustn't. Dean is an asshole who left us both in a warehouse, soaked and surrounded by diluted holy oil. I--"
They both turned to stare when Castiel appeared in the room.
"Little bro! What are you doing here?"
"I am not here for you," Castiel informed him gravely. "You are a pagan and an infidel. I am here to discuss possible locations for God with myself from the future."
"God's dead, gone, or doesn't care. Go away, Castiel." Cas stared into his own blue eyes and felt like he was sinking. He could just barely see the wings folded on Castiel's back. With every day they would become more and more transparent until they faded away, as if they never were.
"Tell me where you went in your search. I will go different places, and we will have covered more ground."
"What's the point? He's not anywhere."
Gabriel materialized some popcorn and leaned back in his chair.
Sighing, Castiel glared at him. "If you tell me, my search will be shortened and I will be better able to aid Dean."
Cas stared at him, then turned to Gabriel. "Paper. Pen."
Gabriel snapped his fingers and both appeared on Cas' lap. He began to write down the locations and times of where and when he had gone to find God. "Just as long as you're aware that if you'd give up your foolish little search, you would be able to protect Dean even better," Cas grumbled.
He handed the paper over to Castiel. Castiel took it, slowly tucking it into the pocket of his trench coat. He was staring, head tilting as he peered through, into whatever soul a powerless angel like Cas would have.
"You are in love with Dean Winchester," he said, voice filling with wonder as he spoke. His jealousy and confusion sat in the pit of Cas' stomach, mixing with his own like it belonged there. Gabriel choked on his popcorn.
"You're in love with Dean Winchester," Cas snapped. "Trust me, if I am, so are you."
Castiel didn't lower his gaze. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said. "I will not lose him because I refused to search for a way to stop this." His wings spread and he left.
There was silence as Cas capped the pen and stared at where Castiel had been. He felt guilty. He had been judged by himself and found wanting. He could feel the loss of his wings like a scarlet A on his chest, branding him for what he was, for what he had done. Had he lost Dean through his own ineptitude? Was he being punished?
"I didn't think you actually knew you were in love with him."
Cas turned to look at Gabriel wearily. "Of course I knew. It would be difficult not to. I fell for him. I killed my brothers for him. I went to kill the Devil with him when I knew he planned to use my death as a distraction so he could try to kill Lucifer. I did it, all of it, for him."
"Huh." Gabriel took a loud sip from the coke he had materialized in his hand, sucking up soda and air from a mostly-empty bottle through a straw. "You forgot to tell him about the rings."
"Shit."
*
Every Friday night, Gabriel materialized a feast for dinner. They would have done it on Sunday, but there were far too many negative connotations for either of them to be comfortable. They ate at the dinner table and Gabriel spent the entire time joking about his life as a trickster. Cas would tell him about the stand-up act Uriel did every few months for their garrison. Gabriel would tell him about the early days of Creation, when it had just been him, Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, and God. Cas would tell him about God's face on flatbread and the brothel Dean had taken him to. He did not mention that Raphael, once the gentlest soul in Heaven, the healer, had killed Cas, torn his wings from his back before exploding the grace even as it screamed inside him. Gabriel never mentioned the days of the First War of Heaven and Hell, for which Cas was grateful. He didn't remember those days; he'd been created after the war, part of an attempt to make up for the third of Heaven that had fallen with Lucifer. He did remember Gabriel, heartbroken and tired, teaching him to take over his job as Messenger before disappearing.
Their stories and carefully kept secrets probably evened out eventually, but neither kept track.
That wasn't what you did with family.
*
Cas woke up screaming some nights, still lost in dreams and in memories. He would dream that the Croats were coming. He would try to draw his wings around himself, but couldn't. He would try to listen to the voices of the other angels so that he could remember he wasn't alone in the world, but he couldn't hear them, and he was. Was alone, forever.
Dean was dead.
He had gone on a hunt at one point, since it was in the city he and Gabriel were in at that time. A ghost had ended up ramming a two-by-four through his chest even as he burned her bones to dust. He had been dying.
Gabriel had healed him, but that wasn't the point.
Cas was powerless, he was alone, and he was angry.
And Dean? Dean was dead.
Or Dean hated him.
No matter where he turned, life sucked.
At least there weren't zombies yet.
*
Gabriel wouldn't let him take anything.
"Alcohol is all well and good, bro, but I'm not materializing anything that's going to kill you," he would say. Which meant that Cas was limited to alcohol and marijuana. He didn't like marijuana, thought it tasted too green when he would much prefer to just take a pill and not have to taste anything, or feel anything, or do anything at all.
He remembered Dean's bourbon-heavy breath on his cheek before Dean fell to his knees, asking him brokenly what he should do now that Sam had said "yes." Cas had pulled him up, touched his face, tried to tell him that he had a purpose. That Cas believed in him still. That Cas would always believe in him.
Cas couldn't remember most of that night. He had been stoned on alcohol and vicodin, too numb and in too much pain from their most recent fight to pay much attention to anything but Dean. He wished that he could remember it. He had a feeling that it had been memorable.
*
Castiel kept coming around to run more leads past Cas. He would occasionally talk to Gabriel as well, as if he couldn't keep himself from it even though he wanted to. Cas remembered feeling that pull toward Gabriel at the same moment he felt the betrayal of a brother who refused to do what was right.
Cas liked past-him, much as he had liked past-Dean. There was something appealing about people who weren't broken when all you knew was the version of them that had been.
"The Prophet of the Winchester Gospel has introduced Dean and Sam to a meeting of his disciples," Castiel informed them the next time he came around. "They are less than pleased by those that honor them."
He looked so puzzled that Cas had to laugh. "Most people who read the Winchester Gospel want for Sam and Dean to have sex," he explained evenly. Gabriel began to literally roll on the floor with laughter. Cas rolled his eyes. "Sam and Dean do not approve."
"But when the disciples offer up their interpretations on their 'internet,' it seems like Sam and Dean would appreciate the insight into the troubles of their lives so that they could--"
"There's fanfiction? You're telling me that those two chuckleheads get gay incestuous fanfiction written about them?" Gabriel looked as if he was dying. Cas and Castiel nodded. "This has made my day, fellas." Gabriel snapped his fingers and the room was suddenly full of buxom, scantily-clad women. "Presents! My treat."
Castiel looked around himself, panicked, and shut his eyes. "I… need to leave." He disappeared.
"I'd rather have amphetamines, if you're feeling generous," Cas said hopefully.
Gabriel snapped again and the women disappeared. "No. And no women for you either. You are way too depressing, bro."
Cas shrugged. "Only to be expected."
Cas got the tiniest thrill from Gabriel's irritation, even after Gabriel dumped a bucket of water on his head moments later.
*
When Cas slept, and did not have nightmares, he dreamt of Dean. He dreamt of winning the war, of that final battle going a different way. It wasn't perfect even in his dreams. Dean killed Lucifer, but fell apart. And Cas would be there to pick him up, would fall a little farther every day, and he wouldn't care what he had to sacrifice. As long as Dean was whole. As long as Dean was alive. Maybe Dean would have time to love him back, but that wasn't as important as having the time to try to make Dean whole again.
But Dean was dead, and it ached in Cas as if there was a hole in his chest. He would pour in alcohol but it would never fill up. It ate everything he gave to it and begged for more.
Every time Castiel came around, it ached worse. Castiel had a chance to help Dean where Cas had failed.
*
"Get up." Gabriel pulled Cas' blankets off his head, throwing them on the floor. Cas glared at him blearily. "We're going to visit a friend."
"Be honest with me, Gabriel. Is it a sex friend?" Cas pulled his pillow over his face and closed his eyes.
Wrenching the pillow from Cas' grip, Gabriel threw it on the floor. "What? No! Shut up."
"You're a little too quick to answer that." Swaying, Cas got to his feet. "But that's okay. I won't tell anyone."
It made Cas feel sick every time he had to have someone else fly him around. He sometimes wondered how he managed to misplace his wings, but then he remembered first meeting Dean, and knew how.
They landed with a stumble outside of the walls of a large mansion. The walls were covered with Enochian symbols, painted in blindingly bright colors that changed every time he looked at them and disappeared the next moment, flickering before his nearly-human eyes like a fire dying in the wind.
Gabriel went over to the wrought-iron gate and pressed a button on the intercom. "Tell Crowley it's Loki. And I've brought a friend."
Cas raised an eyebrow as whoever was on the other end of the intercom mumbled something.
"Crowley?" He had heard rumors of a Crowley back when he was searching for God. The demon was a big name in hell and had a million rumors floating around him. Some said he was Lilith's lover and that in his day, he had somehow managed to corrupt an angel; some said that there was no telling where Crowley's allegiances lay, that he had even crawled through the bars of Lucifer's cage and managed to wiggle into Lucifer's good graces. Crowley was a snake: there was no pinning down what was true and what wasn't, and Cas had never attempted to bother.
"The one and only," Gabriel said. The gate slid open with a creak and Gabriel grinned. "Come on, big boy. Let's get this show on the road."
Wincing at Gabriel's vaguely pornographic choice in epithets yet again, Cas trailed him into the demon's lair. After getting past the gardens and front lawn, entering the house with nary a sight of a guard, it became increasingly clear that the demon's lair was surprisingly posh. It has the pristine look of a building that wasn't really lived in, which made sense. Demons, after all, weren't precisely living beings.
In the front hall, a man greeted them with an exclamation of "Gabriel!" He reached out his hand and, when Gabriel took it, pulled him close, pressing kisses to both cheeks. "Just lovely to see you again, darling. I've killed the guards a bit, so we have a few hours."
"Crowley!" Gabriel said. "How's it hanging?"
Crowley was, Cas determined, rather short, rather dark, and decidedly sleazy-looking.
"Very well. Large as ever," Crowley said, winking. His gaze turned to Cas. "Who's your friend?"
Gabriel slapped a hand to his forehead. "Aw, that's right. He would've been after your time. Crowley, Castiel. Castiel, Crowley."
Crowley didn't offer his hand, and Castiel wouldn't have taken it.
"You brought an angel here to see me? You made me adjust my wards for an angel?"
"Have you forgotten who you're talking to?" Gabriel asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "An angel? Arch, to be exact?"
"No, but you're in rather a different class, Gabriel." The demon looked intensely uncomfortable. "And honestly-- wait, Castiel?! You mean the little baby renegade who's palling around with the Winchesters?"
"I resent being called a 'little baby renegade,' just for the record," Cas said dryly.
"I call 'em like I see 'em, and you're, what? Barely four thousand."
"Putting my creation at only... well, time as such didn't exist before the Fall, so only a few years less than the other angels. And aren't you a little knowledgeable for a demon?"
Crowley waved him off. "Never mind that. Gabriel."
"He's from the future, jeez. Not palling around with the Winchesters anymore. That's a different Castiel."
Crowley was starting to look like he had a headache. "Why are you visiting, Gabriel? You never visit unless the world is ending and you want me to help you shift stocks around." He paused. "Oh, wait. The world is ending. What stocks this time?"
"No stocks, no stocks," Gabriel said, laughing. "I'm just here to ask you for an itsy-bitsy little favor. No, not a deal. A favor."
"And what is this 'favor'?"
Gabriel turned to look at Cas. Crowley turned to look at Cas.
"You've got to be kidding me," Crowley said. "What do you want me to do with him. Honestly, I'm not certain he's my type."
"Oh, I'm everyone's type," Cas inserted.
"Nothing much," Gabriel said, shrugging. He was looking particularly trickster-like. "Just keep an eye on him. I've got shit to do, gods to persuade not to go on suicide missions."
Cas' fingers itched for a gun. Or a bottle. Something. "Gabriel, I am neither a child nor an idiot," he said icily. "And if you don't want me to end you, you're going to tell me precisely why a demon would be any good at 'keeping an eye' on an angel. I'm pretty sure that he, at least, wouldn't mind getting me drugs."
Gabriel frowned. "Good point. Maybe I should think this through a little better."
"Oh Gabriel, you might as well tell him," Crowley teased. He walked over to a little liquor cabinet at the end of the hall and pulled out a bottle of scotch, pouring it neatly into a small glass. Honestly, a liquor cabinet in the front hall? Maybe he was more interesting than Cas had originally thought.
"Tell me what?" Cas asked, tone a warning.
Gabriel sighed, shoulders slumping. Cas could see the weight of wings, the tips dragging on the floor.
"Crowley was an angel. I'm kinda surprised you can't tell."
Next -->
Fandom/Genre: Supernatural
Pairing(s): future!Cas/future!Dean, Dean/Castiel, one-sided future!Cas/Dean, and vague hints of Crowley/future!Cas
Summary: Zachariah brings future!Cas into the present day in hopes of making the present-day Castiel fall into line. But Cas has his own plans, and refuses to let Dean die like he did in 2014. Whether Dean likes it or not. With a little help from some unusual sources-- namely a fallen angel turned demon, an angel turned pagan, and a motley crew of hunters-- Cas will attempt to avert the End.
Masterpost
TURNING BACK THE CLOCKS
Part Three
Gabriel practiced booze and decadence better than Cas did, truth be told. He lived in the Penthouse suites of numerous hotels littered all over the country, each one decorated in black, white, and red. He had a four-year-old dog named Lucky and beautiful women appeared whenever he snapped his fingers.
Cas couldn't bring himself to enjoy a single bit of it.
"I'll get you a cat if you don't like dogs," Gabriel wheedled. He was sitting in a red armchair, dressed down to boxers and a tank top with a stack of chocolate bars beside him. "Lucky would probably like someone to chase around when I'm off tricking idiots and losers anyway."
"It's not your choice in animal companion that I find frustrating," Cas said.
Gabriel huffed loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. A piece of chocolate smeared into his shirt. "I can't believe you're brooding over Dean leaving you like you're a teenager. The guy's a lunkhead." He paused, eyes lighting up. "Want me to trick him?"
"No. Leave Dean alone."
Cas had gone with Gabriel after Dean had left him there, lacking anywhere else to turn. Gabriel had seemed oddly grateful, though they hadn't spoken a word for the rest of that day. It seemed like too much pain for any one day to hold. And the funny thing was, it was little more than history repeating itself, no matter how much Cas tried to change things.
"I've given Sam a personal tricking before. Dean-o needs a good trick of his own."
"You do realize you sound like a whore when you talk about tricking in that way."
Gabriel started laughing; Castiel wasn't sure why. The dog Lucky jumped into his lap and, absently, Gabriel began to pet him. "Sometimes, you rock, Castiel."
Cas shrugged. "Shouldn't you be trying to warn the other gods?" he said to change the subject.
Gabriel's lips thinned. "No. I've gotten the word out to enough of them that if they don't believe me at this point, they won't."
"Don't try to save them if they meet at Elysian Fields, Gabriel. It's not worth it. You'll try to kill Lucifer and you will fail."
"Screw that noise. Why would I try to kill my brother anyway? It would be much more likely to succeed if we trapped him."
Cas blinked. "Trapped him."
Frowning, Gabriel nodded. "Yeah. Didn't I mention it in the future? The horsemen's rings are the keys to Lucifer's gate. If you get them all…."
"We can trap him." For the first time in years, Cas started to feel hope. This might not be his world, and yet, here he was, still trying to save it. "We must inform Dean."
"No, we mustn't. Dean is an asshole who left us both in a warehouse, soaked and surrounded by diluted holy oil. I--"
They both turned to stare when Castiel appeared in the room.
"Little bro! What are you doing here?"
"I am not here for you," Castiel informed him gravely. "You are a pagan and an infidel. I am here to discuss possible locations for God with myself from the future."
"God's dead, gone, or doesn't care. Go away, Castiel." Cas stared into his own blue eyes and felt like he was sinking. He could just barely see the wings folded on Castiel's back. With every day they would become more and more transparent until they faded away, as if they never were.
"Tell me where you went in your search. I will go different places, and we will have covered more ground."
"What's the point? He's not anywhere."
Gabriel materialized some popcorn and leaned back in his chair.
Sighing, Castiel glared at him. "If you tell me, my search will be shortened and I will be better able to aid Dean."
Cas stared at him, then turned to Gabriel. "Paper. Pen."
Gabriel snapped his fingers and both appeared on Cas' lap. He began to write down the locations and times of where and when he had gone to find God. "Just as long as you're aware that if you'd give up your foolish little search, you would be able to protect Dean even better," Cas grumbled.
He handed the paper over to Castiel. Castiel took it, slowly tucking it into the pocket of his trench coat. He was staring, head tilting as he peered through, into whatever soul a powerless angel like Cas would have.
"You are in love with Dean Winchester," he said, voice filling with wonder as he spoke. His jealousy and confusion sat in the pit of Cas' stomach, mixing with his own like it belonged there. Gabriel choked on his popcorn.
"You're in love with Dean Winchester," Cas snapped. "Trust me, if I am, so are you."
Castiel didn't lower his gaze. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said. "I will not lose him because I refused to search for a way to stop this." His wings spread and he left.
There was silence as Cas capped the pen and stared at where Castiel had been. He felt guilty. He had been judged by himself and found wanting. He could feel the loss of his wings like a scarlet A on his chest, branding him for what he was, for what he had done. Had he lost Dean through his own ineptitude? Was he being punished?
"I didn't think you actually knew you were in love with him."
Cas turned to look at Gabriel wearily. "Of course I knew. It would be difficult not to. I fell for him. I killed my brothers for him. I went to kill the Devil with him when I knew he planned to use my death as a distraction so he could try to kill Lucifer. I did it, all of it, for him."
"Huh." Gabriel took a loud sip from the coke he had materialized in his hand, sucking up soda and air from a mostly-empty bottle through a straw. "You forgot to tell him about the rings."
"Shit."
*
Every Friday night, Gabriel materialized a feast for dinner. They would have done it on Sunday, but there were far too many negative connotations for either of them to be comfortable. They ate at the dinner table and Gabriel spent the entire time joking about his life as a trickster. Cas would tell him about the stand-up act Uriel did every few months for their garrison. Gabriel would tell him about the early days of Creation, when it had just been him, Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, and God. Cas would tell him about God's face on flatbread and the brothel Dean had taken him to. He did not mention that Raphael, once the gentlest soul in Heaven, the healer, had killed Cas, torn his wings from his back before exploding the grace even as it screamed inside him. Gabriel never mentioned the days of the First War of Heaven and Hell, for which Cas was grateful. He didn't remember those days; he'd been created after the war, part of an attempt to make up for the third of Heaven that had fallen with Lucifer. He did remember Gabriel, heartbroken and tired, teaching him to take over his job as Messenger before disappearing.
Their stories and carefully kept secrets probably evened out eventually, but neither kept track.
That wasn't what you did with family.
*
Cas woke up screaming some nights, still lost in dreams and in memories. He would dream that the Croats were coming. He would try to draw his wings around himself, but couldn't. He would try to listen to the voices of the other angels so that he could remember he wasn't alone in the world, but he couldn't hear them, and he was. Was alone, forever.
Dean was dead.
He had gone on a hunt at one point, since it was in the city he and Gabriel were in at that time. A ghost had ended up ramming a two-by-four through his chest even as he burned her bones to dust. He had been dying.
Gabriel had healed him, but that wasn't the point.
Cas was powerless, he was alone, and he was angry.
And Dean? Dean was dead.
Or Dean hated him.
No matter where he turned, life sucked.
At least there weren't zombies yet.
*
Gabriel wouldn't let him take anything.
"Alcohol is all well and good, bro, but I'm not materializing anything that's going to kill you," he would say. Which meant that Cas was limited to alcohol and marijuana. He didn't like marijuana, thought it tasted too green when he would much prefer to just take a pill and not have to taste anything, or feel anything, or do anything at all.
He remembered Dean's bourbon-heavy breath on his cheek before Dean fell to his knees, asking him brokenly what he should do now that Sam had said "yes." Cas had pulled him up, touched his face, tried to tell him that he had a purpose. That Cas believed in him still. That Cas would always believe in him.
Cas couldn't remember most of that night. He had been stoned on alcohol and vicodin, too numb and in too much pain from their most recent fight to pay much attention to anything but Dean. He wished that he could remember it. He had a feeling that it had been memorable.
*
Castiel kept coming around to run more leads past Cas. He would occasionally talk to Gabriel as well, as if he couldn't keep himself from it even though he wanted to. Cas remembered feeling that pull toward Gabriel at the same moment he felt the betrayal of a brother who refused to do what was right.
Cas liked past-him, much as he had liked past-Dean. There was something appealing about people who weren't broken when all you knew was the version of them that had been.
"The Prophet of the Winchester Gospel has introduced Dean and Sam to a meeting of his disciples," Castiel informed them the next time he came around. "They are less than pleased by those that honor them."
He looked so puzzled that Cas had to laugh. "Most people who read the Winchester Gospel want for Sam and Dean to have sex," he explained evenly. Gabriel began to literally roll on the floor with laughter. Cas rolled his eyes. "Sam and Dean do not approve."
"But when the disciples offer up their interpretations on their 'internet,' it seems like Sam and Dean would appreciate the insight into the troubles of their lives so that they could--"
"There's fanfiction? You're telling me that those two chuckleheads get gay incestuous fanfiction written about them?" Gabriel looked as if he was dying. Cas and Castiel nodded. "This has made my day, fellas." Gabriel snapped his fingers and the room was suddenly full of buxom, scantily-clad women. "Presents! My treat."
Castiel looked around himself, panicked, and shut his eyes. "I… need to leave." He disappeared.
"I'd rather have amphetamines, if you're feeling generous," Cas said hopefully.
Gabriel snapped again and the women disappeared. "No. And no women for you either. You are way too depressing, bro."
Cas shrugged. "Only to be expected."
Cas got the tiniest thrill from Gabriel's irritation, even after Gabriel dumped a bucket of water on his head moments later.
*
When Cas slept, and did not have nightmares, he dreamt of Dean. He dreamt of winning the war, of that final battle going a different way. It wasn't perfect even in his dreams. Dean killed Lucifer, but fell apart. And Cas would be there to pick him up, would fall a little farther every day, and he wouldn't care what he had to sacrifice. As long as Dean was whole. As long as Dean was alive. Maybe Dean would have time to love him back, but that wasn't as important as having the time to try to make Dean whole again.
But Dean was dead, and it ached in Cas as if there was a hole in his chest. He would pour in alcohol but it would never fill up. It ate everything he gave to it and begged for more.
Every time Castiel came around, it ached worse. Castiel had a chance to help Dean where Cas had failed.
*
"Get up." Gabriel pulled Cas' blankets off his head, throwing them on the floor. Cas glared at him blearily. "We're going to visit a friend."
"Be honest with me, Gabriel. Is it a sex friend?" Cas pulled his pillow over his face and closed his eyes.
Wrenching the pillow from Cas' grip, Gabriel threw it on the floor. "What? No! Shut up."
"You're a little too quick to answer that." Swaying, Cas got to his feet. "But that's okay. I won't tell anyone."
It made Cas feel sick every time he had to have someone else fly him around. He sometimes wondered how he managed to misplace his wings, but then he remembered first meeting Dean, and knew how.
They landed with a stumble outside of the walls of a large mansion. The walls were covered with Enochian symbols, painted in blindingly bright colors that changed every time he looked at them and disappeared the next moment, flickering before his nearly-human eyes like a fire dying in the wind.
Gabriel went over to the wrought-iron gate and pressed a button on the intercom. "Tell Crowley it's Loki. And I've brought a friend."
Cas raised an eyebrow as whoever was on the other end of the intercom mumbled something.
"Crowley?" He had heard rumors of a Crowley back when he was searching for God. The demon was a big name in hell and had a million rumors floating around him. Some said he was Lilith's lover and that in his day, he had somehow managed to corrupt an angel; some said that there was no telling where Crowley's allegiances lay, that he had even crawled through the bars of Lucifer's cage and managed to wiggle into Lucifer's good graces. Crowley was a snake: there was no pinning down what was true and what wasn't, and Cas had never attempted to bother.
"The one and only," Gabriel said. The gate slid open with a creak and Gabriel grinned. "Come on, big boy. Let's get this show on the road."
Wincing at Gabriel's vaguely pornographic choice in epithets yet again, Cas trailed him into the demon's lair. After getting past the gardens and front lawn, entering the house with nary a sight of a guard, it became increasingly clear that the demon's lair was surprisingly posh. It has the pristine look of a building that wasn't really lived in, which made sense. Demons, after all, weren't precisely living beings.
In the front hall, a man greeted them with an exclamation of "Gabriel!" He reached out his hand and, when Gabriel took it, pulled him close, pressing kisses to both cheeks. "Just lovely to see you again, darling. I've killed the guards a bit, so we have a few hours."
"Crowley!" Gabriel said. "How's it hanging?"
Crowley was, Cas determined, rather short, rather dark, and decidedly sleazy-looking.
"Very well. Large as ever," Crowley said, winking. His gaze turned to Cas. "Who's your friend?"
Gabriel slapped a hand to his forehead. "Aw, that's right. He would've been after your time. Crowley, Castiel. Castiel, Crowley."
Crowley didn't offer his hand, and Castiel wouldn't have taken it.
"You brought an angel here to see me? You made me adjust my wards for an angel?"
"Have you forgotten who you're talking to?" Gabriel asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "An angel? Arch, to be exact?"
"No, but you're in rather a different class, Gabriel." The demon looked intensely uncomfortable. "And honestly-- wait, Castiel?! You mean the little baby renegade who's palling around with the Winchesters?"
"I resent being called a 'little baby renegade,' just for the record," Cas said dryly.
"I call 'em like I see 'em, and you're, what? Barely four thousand."
"Putting my creation at only... well, time as such didn't exist before the Fall, so only a few years less than the other angels. And aren't you a little knowledgeable for a demon?"
Crowley waved him off. "Never mind that. Gabriel."
"He's from the future, jeez. Not palling around with the Winchesters anymore. That's a different Castiel."
Crowley was starting to look like he had a headache. "Why are you visiting, Gabriel? You never visit unless the world is ending and you want me to help you shift stocks around." He paused. "Oh, wait. The world is ending. What stocks this time?"
"No stocks, no stocks," Gabriel said, laughing. "I'm just here to ask you for an itsy-bitsy little favor. No, not a deal. A favor."
"And what is this 'favor'?"
Gabriel turned to look at Cas. Crowley turned to look at Cas.
"You've got to be kidding me," Crowley said. "What do you want me to do with him. Honestly, I'm not certain he's my type."
"Oh, I'm everyone's type," Cas inserted.
"Nothing much," Gabriel said, shrugging. He was looking particularly trickster-like. "Just keep an eye on him. I've got shit to do, gods to persuade not to go on suicide missions."
Cas' fingers itched for a gun. Or a bottle. Something. "Gabriel, I am neither a child nor an idiot," he said icily. "And if you don't want me to end you, you're going to tell me precisely why a demon would be any good at 'keeping an eye' on an angel. I'm pretty sure that he, at least, wouldn't mind getting me drugs."
Gabriel frowned. "Good point. Maybe I should think this through a little better."
"Oh Gabriel, you might as well tell him," Crowley teased. He walked over to a little liquor cabinet at the end of the hall and pulled out a bottle of scotch, pouring it neatly into a small glass. Honestly, a liquor cabinet in the front hall? Maybe he was more interesting than Cas had originally thought.
"Tell me what?" Cas asked, tone a warning.
Gabriel sighed, shoulders slumping. Cas could see the weight of wings, the tips dragging on the floor.
"Crowley was an angel. I'm kinda surprised you can't tell."
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