angelspy, 3/5

[wonderfoal]

Under (the) Cover(s), part three.
main header and part one | part two | part three | part four | part five


Chapter Six

Dean woke up delightfully sore and sated. He and Cas had had another long night and he wanted a hot shower and breakfast. Cas had been traveling with them for a week now, at home in the backseat so that every time he looked in the rearview mirror, their eyes met. They traded heated looks whenever possible and those always led to Dean getting nailed to the mattress at night. They’d been sleeping together so often that Sam had sprung for another room after he’d walked in on them.

Which was actually another bonus. The previous night, Loki had come back from his trip to visit the pagans and Dean didn’t want to hear or see his “reunion” with Sam. Bad enough he could hear the headboard slapping against the wall last night. Sam would probably sleep in for another hour... he’d told Dean that he’d meet him at the diner for breakfast.

With a groan, he sat up and looked for Cas. His boyfriend was standing naked in the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror. His hand was around his necklace, rubbing it. “You okay?” he asked as he joined him at the sink.

Cas nodded. “I think it might be broken,” he admitted with another look at his necklace. Dean picked it up from his chest and studied the design. It was definitely some kind of hunter’s tool. He didn’t recognize it, but there were runes around the edges and the design in the middle was a ward for angels.

“I don’t see any cracks,” Dean said. The metal felt cooler, though. Normally when he touched it - usually during sex - it was warmed from body heat. “Loki’ll probably be at the diner with Sam. He might know if it’s not okay.”

“Loki,” Cas repeated. “He is Sam’s lover.”

Dean made a face. “Dude, don’t remind me.”

Castiel took a window seat in the booth so that he could admire the storm clouds gathering in the sky. He enjoyed lightning storms. The rumble of thunder was particularly pleasing. He hoped it was storming when they had a break from the hunt... He wanted to have sex with Dean in a thunderstorm. The thought sent a flood of heat to his groin. He imagined the rain on Dean’s back, the way his hair would plaster against his head just as it did in the shower. He imagined the flash of lightning illuminating Dean’s skin... If the thunder was strong enough, he wondered if he could feel it in the earth as he fucked into him.

“What will it be, fellas?” The waitress had appeared. She was eyeing Dean appreciatively, smiling at him and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Cas frowned at her, an unpleasant sensation twisting inside him.

Dean glanced at the specials printed on the wall and his eyes lit up. “Hey, Tuesday - pig in a poke.” He smiled at Castiel and then nodded to the waitress. “I’ll take the special and a side of sausage. Coffee, black.”

“Sure thing, sugar. And you, sir?” she asked Castiel in a less friendly manner. She had seen the smile Dean had given him and her flirtatious manner had changed into something else.

“I am... unsure,” Castiel said. All food was more or less the same to him. Some tasted better than others, but it was all disgusting. “What is good, Dean?”

Dean smiled and ordered breakfast for him - scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee. He wished he could tell his lover that he didn’t require such sustenance, but that was a scenario that would end poorly. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” Dean asked after the waitress left.

“I am imagining having sex with you in a thunderstorm.”

Dean went pink. “Dude, don’t say shit like that in public.”

Castiel frowned. “You are embarrassed?” he questioned.

“Dean is vanilla, Cas,” Sam spoke up. “Sex in the great outdoors is scary,” he added with a teasing grin to his brother.

“Good morning, Sam,” Castiel greeted. He turned back to Dean. “I was not aware such situations were uncomfortable for you, Dean. I apologize. I do not want to pressure you into anything you-“

“Dude. Not in front of my brother,” Dean hissed.

Castiel nodded and looked away. For the first time, he noticed another figure standing next to Sam. He was shorter than the average male human, dark haired, and had piercing eyes - pinned right on Castiel.

The man slid into the seat opposite Castiel, his eyes never wavering from him. Sam filled in the space beside him and looked curiously between his companion and Castiel. “Do you two know each other?” he asked.

“No,” Castiel answered. “We’ve never met.”

“Well, Cas, this is Loki. Loki, this is Cas.” Dean made the introductions with a wave of his hand.

Castiel looked at the man, this Loki. Something was familiar about him, but it wasn’t immediately obvious. His angelic form tugged at him, resonated with Loki. The sensation was muted, like being underwater.

“Here you go, sugar.” The waitress had returned. She brought Dean’s food with a sultry smile and wordlessly set Castiel’s in front of him. She greeted Sam and Loki and took their orders. The arrival of the waitress had one good side effect - it broke whatever spell that had Loki’s eyes glued to him. He was talking quietly with Sam as Castiel attempted to capture a forkful of slippery eggs.

Castiel was chewing a mouthful of toast when he realized what the sensation tugging on his grace actually was. He was in the presence of another angel. He stopped chewing and looked up to meet Loki’s piercing gaze. Loki was an angel.

He swallowed his toast as a thousand thoughts swarmed his mind. How could he have not recognized him before? It was true he‘d never previously encountered another angel while in his human form, but the resonance of their graces should have been more than enough for him to realize it. He looked at Loki - and that had to be a pseudonym - and wondered what he was doing there. His superiors had never mentioned another angel on Earth. There’d been no clue that anyone else had an assignment there.

Castiel didn’t see any amulet, any means to protect Loki from the human’s protections. Loki was in disguise - from the humans, surely, but there was something else there... something Castiel wasn’t seeing.

“Wow, this is awkward,” Dean murmured.

Sam looked between the two angels, eyebrows raised. “No kidding.” He brought up a newspaper and spread it over the table. “Check it out. Mr. Elbert Adler found dead in his home, door and windows locked.”

“What killed him?” Dean asked and finished off the last of his sausage.

“Cause of death - exsanguination. And. All of his teeth were missing.”

Dean’s face scrunched in distaste. “Eww.” He drained the last of his coffee. Neither brother seemed to notice Loki and Castiel continuing to stare at each other. “What has an M.O. like that?”

“I’ve never heard of anything like it,” Sam said. He glanced at Loki. “Does that sound pagan to you?”

Loki shook his head, his eyes finally leaving Castiel and looking at the man in the obituary. “Sounds like witchcraft.”

Sam’s nose wrinkled. “With his teeth?”

Loki snorted. “Teeth count as bones, Sammy, and they’re easier to get. Less cleaning involved.” He frowned. “But you can’t do a spell with just teeth... I’d find out who the guy was, why the witch wanted him. Find a pattern, and you’ll find your next victim.”

“Great,” Dean muttered. “I hate witches.” He stretched back in his seat and slapped a hand on Castiel’s thigh. “Come on then. We’ll hit the archives, talk to his family, see if we can dig up anything.”

Castiel started to agree, but Loki’s sharp glance pinned him to his spot. “I left my coat at the motel. I will catch up later.”

Dean’s eyes flickered between Loki and Castiel, but he just shrugged. “Sure thing.”

Loki left with Sam and Castiel wondered if he’d misinterpreted his cues. Nevertheless, he headed back to the motel room as he’d agreed to do. He picked up his forgotten coat and slipped his arms through the sleeves. He barely heard the arrival of the other angel.

Castiel had only the barest warning before a solid weight slammed into his back and threw him against the wall. Cold metal pressed against the back of his neck - it could only be an angel-killing blade. No one who knew what he really was would bother otherwise.

“What are you playing at?” Loki hissed behind him.

Castiel didn’t want to betray his mission, but he wasn’t prepared to die just yet. It was possible that Loki didn’t know that Castiel was on the job and wanted to test his loyalties. “I am here on orders,” he growled.

The blade didn’t go away. It bit into his skin and he shed blood. “How are you here?” Castiel kept his mouth closed this time. This angel was no friend of his. The blade stayed at his neck and the angel’s other hand patted him down. It snagged on his amulet and pulled it out from underneath his shirt. “Raphael,” he hissed.

Castiel stiffened. “How did you know that?” he asked. Raphael had been the one to give him his mission. It was Raphael’s grace that powered the amulet, but only someone who knew the archangel intimately could recognize such a thing by name.

“I’m asking the questions here.” Loki growled. The blade retreated just enough for Loki to turn him around so that his back was against the wall. “Keep your hands out,” he ordered. Castiel complied, furious that another angel would treat him this way.

The blade pressed to the front of his neck. Castiel could only see a glimmer of the metal as his eyes were locked on Loki’s. “Why are you here?” he asked. “Did you desert from the troops when the war ended?” He wouldn’t be the first, though most of them had been killed by the humans...

Loki pressed the blade into Castiel’s throat, drawing a thin line of blood. “I was here first,” he snarled. He calmed down and eased the blade away from his skin. “I told you to be quiet.”

He looked Castiel up and down, rubbed his fingers over the amulet. “You’ve been here a while. I can tell from the energy left in that thing.” He stared directly at Castiel. “What do they have you doing?”

Castiel said nothing. He would not betray his people.

Loki stalked forward, shifted the blade so that the tip was against Castiel’s Adam’s apple. “What do they have you doing?” Castiel said nothing, just let the blade dig at his throat. If he died there, so be it. He would not turn traitor.

Loki eased up, nodded to himself. “You have bravery, kid. And you’re loyal. It’s a shame to see it wasted like this.”

“Kill me if you have to. I won’t betray my family.”

Loki snorted. “A complete waste.” He narrowed his eyes. “They have you spying for something. What could they want... what would they send someone looking for...?” His eyes widened in response to his own question. “The wards, of course.” He looked at Castiel incredulously. “You stupid SOB. You have no idea, do you?”

Castiel kept his jaw clenched tight. “Kill me if you’re going to do it.”

“I’m not going to kill you.” Loki lowered the blade completely and Castiel eased up against the wall. “You don’t know,” he decided.

“And you do?” Castiel questioned bitterly. The epiphany came to him a second later. “You do know. You-you’re the one who sold out the angels - the one who taught the humans how to banish and ward us out.” Rage boiled up inside him. This traitor in front of him was the reason so many of his brothers and sisters had perished - the reason the world was in such a sorry state as it was. “Why?” he snarled. “How could you do such a thing?”

Without warning, Loki slammed his arm into Castiel’s neck and held him off the ground. His other hand brought the blade around to lay it against his chest. “You listen to me, you little fool. You wanna know why? I was here first. I had my own little niche carved out, and then angels descended and ruined everything. They were never meant to be here, Castiel,” he said darkly.

“We have the right-“

“We have what our Father gave us, no more.” He leaned in close until his face was mere inches from Castiel’s. “I have a good thing here, and I’m not about to give it up to some snot-nosed, self-righteous little brat like you who’s twisted himself up so badly he’ll never get the knots untangled. When you figure out what you’re doing, you’ll be sorry for it,” he promised. “In the meantime, you keep your mouth shut about me, and you leave the Winchesters alone.” Castiel felt the cool metal touch the delicate area beneath his ear. “If you mess this up for me, if you even think about messing this up for me-I will end you.”

With that, he released Castiel and disappeared in a flutter of wings. Castiel sank to the floor, feeling breath flood back into his human body and leaving him dizzy. The other angel - and he still never learned his name - had been strong. He’d lifted Castiel without effort, and he’d been able to fly off with barely a sound. He felt like he had just made a dangerous enemy.


Chapter Seven

It wasn’t like Dean didn’t know that Cas was keeping something from him. Dean could count on one hand the number of personal details Cas had told him about himself. That wasn’t to say Dean only knew a handful of facts about Cas - he could learn a great deal about people just by being around them. Cas didn’t want to talk about his past or his family - so what? That was almost a mold for hunters. People who were in this business seldom came from sunny backgrounds. Most of the hunters Dean had met were only in it because of dead loved ones. It was okay that he didn’t want to talk about it. Dean wasn’t going to interrogate him for information. He didn’t want to talk about his family - that was fine with Dean. Dean didn’t want to talk much about his own family. His hand strayed to the pendant around his neck. The less other people knew, the safer a person was.

But lately... Dean had the feeling that Cas wasn’t telling him something - something important. And he was going to tell Dean what it was, soon. Dean had the unsettling prediction that he wasn’t going to like it. He’d laugh with Cas, but the other man’s eyes would shift away guiltily. Dean could almost read the words in the gesture: “I don’t belong here.” Dean was scared that Cas was going to break up with him. He had the suspicion that the other man was married --- which Dean wouldn’t do. Ever.

Dean wasn’t going to be a girl and weep into his pillow about it. He wouldn’t be happy - if Cas dumped him, he could barely think of anything worse that didn’t involve peril for his family or widespread destruction. He hadn’t meant to fall in love with him, it had just happened. He liked Cas - liked being around him, Hunting with him, sleeping with him. He wanted it to stay, wanted it to last. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all going up in smoke.

“I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time,” Dean admitted as they left the cinema. “Wow. I think it’s been years.” He turned to Cas who was smiling at him. Dean didn’t think he’d enjoyed the movie - Cas had watched it intently, even though he’d worn a confused frown more than he laughed at it - but now he was smiling. As they walked, Dean reached over, casually took Cas’s hand in his.

Cas stilled, eyes darting down to their joined hands, and very subtly eased his away. His hand made an aborted motion towards the amulet around his neck before falling away. He inhaled sharply, still looking at the ground, and seemed to make up his mind about something. “Dean, we need to talk.”

Dean knew without a doubt that it was over. He nodded. “Okay,” he said. Just like ripping off a band-aid - the sooner you got it over with, the sooner the hurt stopped. Just dragging it out would help no one.

Cas shook his head. “Not here. In private.”

Dean looked around to the few other people still leaving the cinema. He scoffed. “What? Are you afraid I’ll make a scene?” Now he was angry. Bad enough Cas was breaking up with him, he had to treat him like some unstable girl, now, too?

Cas looked pained. “I...” He shifted his eyes away. “I have to tell you the truth, and I can’t do it in public.”

Married. He had to be. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and started walking back to the motel. He sure knew how to pick ‘em.

Castiel had serious problem. He’d put it off for as long as he could, but he finally had to face the truth. He was running out of time. The amulet that allowed him free passage through human civilization was quickly running out of energy. It was supposed to have been charged for a full year. Instead, it had barely been four months, and his days were numbered.

He wanted to beg for an extension from his superiors. He hadn’t finished his assignment - not completely. He’d reported back weeks ago that the husband of Mary Campbell was the most likely suspect for controlling the wards, but that wasn’t concrete proof, and it wasn’t a name. The angels in Heaven would be looking for information - looking for the soul of Mary most likely. Once they found the name, they’d find the warden. Then the archangel would come - they were the only ones who could pass freely through the wards.

Castiel hadn’t finished his job - but it was complete enough that if Mary Campbell’s husband was the warden, he could be found and eliminated. If it were someone else... they still had a lead. Someone would talk, now that the first name was known. Raphael wouldn’t sacrifice any more of his energy to power the amulet again. Castiel would return to Heaven, and he would be there to stay until the angels took over Earth, once and for all.

It wouldn’t be so bad, seeing Anna and his other friends again. Balthazar would be happy to have him back again. They’d been getting closer, before Castiel had been called away. Maybe, once he returned -

Dean’s face flashed in his mind and he knew that wasn’t a possibility. He had fallen hard for the human, against all common sense. He’d told himself over and over not to get involved - not to make an emotional connection, to keep it physical. But Dean slept and he did not. After having sex with him, he’d lain awake, night after night, watching him and being close to him. He’d liked the way Dean would smile in his sleep, how he looked so innocent with his eyes closed. Sometimes, he would reach for Castiel in his sleep, drag his body against the angel’s until they were flush from shoulder to ankle. Castiel spent hours feeling Dean’s breath ghost over his skin, feeling his warmth against him. He’d slipped, slowly, and now he knew that he loved him. It was going to be hard - not seeing him again. Castiel didn’t have any illusions. Once Dean found out what Castiel really was, he would be done with him. Dean hated angels. Everyone hated angels.

He’d considered just leaving. He could take off in the night and not come back, but the thought was unbearable. Dean loved him, just as he loved Dean. He couldn’t leave things like that. He couldn’t disappear - make Dean wonder about his whereabouts, his safety. He’d see him again, once Castiel descended with the rest of the host - but by that time everything would be broken.

No. He had to tell him the truth. Dean would hate him, but Castiel couldn’t leave it like he was. His “passport” was running out, and if he didn’t leave for Heaven soon - very soon - he would be bound to Earth. That wouldn’t be so bad, except that he could barely go anywhere. Before the main wards had been erected, the humans had warded each individual building. It was a lengthy process that stopped once the main ward blanket was set up. Newer buildings didn’t have them, but the older buildings... hunter buildings were covered in them. If he stayed, it would be like living in prison.

Castiel followed Dean into the motel room and shut the door firmly behind him. “I have to tell you something,” he started. There was no point drawing it out. He had to be clear and honest. He also had to make sure Dean understood that he hadn’t set out with the intention of hurting him - he never meant for it to go this far.

Dean sat on the bed and looked at him with a blank face. “Let’s hear it.”

Castiel summoned his courage. “I’m an angel of the Lord.”

Dean laughed. He actually laughed. “God, you’re lying to me. If it’s hard to do - if you don’t want to tell me about your wife, or whatever - you don’t have to make up crazy stories. You think this is something to joke about-“

Castiel knew Dean wouldn’t believe his words. He could see in the human’s eyes that he didn’t want to accept the truth. He summoned his grace, felt the angelic light straining to escape him. He let just enough emit from him that it highlighted his wings. Their shadows danced in the air, grew large against the wall. Dean watched him with a face like granite. Castiel wanted a reaction, was suddenly desperate for it. He needed something - anything to tell him what Dean was feeling. He knew that the hunter would hate him, but to just sit there like a statue... “I am so sorry,” he told him. He was sorry. Sorry for lying, sorry for ever pretending to be human. He was sorry he’d infiltrated the hunters, sorry he’d ever come to Earth in the first place. He knew when he looked into Dean’s eyes - nothing had been worth this.

Slowly, Dean’s hand went up to the amulet around his neck and gripped it tight. “Are you here to kill me?” he asked flatly, never moving from his seat on the bed.

Castiel let his grace retreat. He looked the same as before - it could been any number of scenes from the past week of Dean on the bed and Castiel standing in front of him. But it wasn’t the same - everything was different now. “No,” he answered honestly.

“Then why are you here?” Dean asked.

Castiel shrugged helplessly. “Orders,” he said roughly.

Dean’s face hardened and he stood up. “Why me?” he asked.

Impossibly, Castiel felt wetness in his eyes - he was on the verge of crying. He’d never heard of anything like it in an angel. Tears were a human trait. “I love you,” he said quietly.

Dean snorted and turned to the wall. “You love me?” he asked. His arms moved, like he might be shaking, but Castiel couldn’t see his actions. “All this time, you’ve been lying to me - using me-“

“No,” Castiel protested. “I only wanted to be around you. I-“

“Shut up,” Dean snapped. His arm jerked violently and Castiel could smell blood. He took a step forward in concern, but Dean halted him. “Don’t you get anywhere near me.”

“Dean,” Castiel started. The tear escaped from his right eye and rolled down his cheek. It tasted salty when it reached his lips and Castiel had never felt so human.

“I said shut up!’ Dean snarled. “All this time... I am so stupid,” he mused. “I really thought-“ He stopped and his shoulders sagged. He turned abruptly and Castiel could see that his forearm was bleeding.

“You’re hurt,” he said.

Dean nodded, face unreadable. He scoffed. “Yeah, I am. It’s funny, but I really am.” He laughed humorlessly. “An angel,” he breathed, eyeing Castiel like he’d never seen him before. He looked at him like he was a monster, like at any moment he was going to reach for his gun and shoot him. It wouldn’t do any good, but the action would have spoken volumes for his meaning.

“Dean, you’re bleeding,” Castiel took a step forward, but the raw emotion on Dean’s face stopped him.

Dean glanced down to the flowing blood on his arm and nodded. “It’s worth it,” he told him sharply. He laughed again. “I’ve played the fool before, but this...” he inhaled sharply. “This is- Get out,“ he told him.

“I wasn’t playing you for a fool, Dean.” He felt another tear roll down his face and his voice broke when he spoke. “All that matters to me is you,” he told him, heart squeezing painfully at the thought of losing Dean for good. He wondered how stupid he had been not to realize it before.

Dean met his eyes and Castiel flinched at what he saw there. “I said ‘get out,’” he growled. He stepped aside to reveal a blood sigil on the wall.

Castiel’s eyes widened when he saw it. “Dean, no!” he shouted, but it made no difference. Dean slapped his bloody hand against the wall and Castiel disappeared in a burst of white light.

next