Supernatural Wars: A New Faith, Chp. 5/6
Title: Supernatural Wars: A New Faith, Chapter Five
By:Wynna Pendragon
Rating:PG-13
Pairing:Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: All spoilers for Star Wars, and Supernatural
Warnings: Star Wars fusion.
Summary: Hunted by the Host’s most menacing agents, Prince Castiel races home aboard his starship, guardian of the secret plans that could not only save his charges, but the entire galaxy…
Feedback: Is appreciated.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Star Wars, or the characters and concepts within.
Author's Notes: Thanks goes to kitty_alex, currently all mistakes are mine. Links to the previous chapters are here.
Chapter Five
Zayder strolled into the control room in obvious high spirits, and joined Governor Uriel at the huge view screen that stretched across the far wall. He didn’t exactly care what Uriel was looking at, only that the other man was perturbed, his lips pursed as he glared at the screen. The Sith commander grinned and lightly clasped his hands behind his back, rocking slightly on his booted heels. Uriel glanced over at him, making a disapproving sound in his throat before turning back to the screen in front of him, “You look like you’ve had a good day. I can’t imagine why.”
No, he thought dryly, of course you wouldn’t, you great fool. Setting aside how angry he became when Bobby decided to fight him in front of the entire garrison stationed in the hangar- only to just give up at the last moment- and how furious he was when Casitel managed to escape with his cronies, he was actually pleased with how the events of the day played out.
He had managed to destroy the last of the Jedi, discovered that he had another child, and shattered Castiel’s calm reserve…for the time being at least. He was sure that the young man would be able to bounce back from their little conversation, but the dark Sith planted the seeds of doubt, and that was all that mattered. He did count on Castiel to break and join him while still on the Morning Star, but he wouldn’t be where he was now if he didn’t come up with alternative plans.
“Would you rather having me angry? Because I can assure you,” he said darkly as he turned towards the other man, who drew back slightly, “I would be able to arrange that.”
Uriel shook his head and looked away, anxious to change the subject, “What news on the Millennium Impala?”
“Well, after they vanquished your sub-par pilots,” Zayder grinned at the slight flinch that caused, “They made the jump into hyperspace.”
“So you confirm that the homing beacon that my men placed on their ship is in working order?” Uriel tensely asked, “I am risking more than you know, Zayder.”
The objective was to find out where the Rebel Hunters’ base was; Uriel believed that the prince would want to get the information he had gleaned to them as soon as possible, and Zayder knew that he wasn’t wrong in that assumption. Uriel ordered a small group to place a tiny homing beacon into the Millennium Impala, after the unfortunate events in the detention area. The Sith commander felt it prudent to keep the homing device on their side, so that he would know where his prey was at all times. Whoever aided Castiel and Jimmy in their escape will pay dearly once Zayder found them.
Oh yes, there would be Hell to pay.
He grinned with malicious glee, “You just concern yourself with running the Morning Star, Governor. Let me handle the more important matters.”
Dean slowly pulled back from gnawing on the prince’s neck; the voice was unusually loud in the balmy room, the words sharp and commanding. It was an instinctual thing to obey- his father was a hard man to ignore, and instilled that obedience in the boys early on, though the man had been dead for years; so Dean was nonetheless surprised and dismayed as he turned to see the slight figure of Jimmy in the doorway to the refresher. He was white as a ghost, with a slight shade of green that Dean never knew an actual human being could achieve, and stared at them with wide eyes. Dean bit his lip and sat back on his heels, he had a feeling that this was going to be bad.
To make matters worse, he could hear his little brother’s distinctive footfalls coming closer. He closed his eyes as the footsteps stopped, “What’s going on? I heard Jimmy-Uh, Dean…what’re you-”
“This is very awkward,” Jimmy sighed, his voice shaking a little as he came down from his shock, “I… walked in on Dean taking advantage of my brother.”
Dean opened his eyes and frowned at the shorter man as he tried to diffuse the situation, “Look Jim-”
“Whoa, wait a minute here, Jimmy,” Sam interrupted, “My brother would never-”
“Then how would you explain it, Sam?” Jimmy asked reasonably, “Castiel hardly knows Dean, why would he let Dean…you know.” He made a vague gesture, coloring slightly in embarrassment.
Dean huffed, he was starting to get a bit irritated at being interrupted, “Guys-”
“Oh come on,” Sam scoffed lightly, rolling his eyes at the shorter man, “My brother would never take advantage of someone that didn’t want it, how do you know that Castiel didn’t lead him on? Besides,” he pointed at long finger at Jimmy, “You don’t exactly know any of us, including your brother.”
Dean sighed, “Sammy-”
“I may not know everything about him Sam, and I’m not saying that I do,” Jimmy went on to explain, “I just find it hard to believe that Castiel would start something like this so suddenly. Being tortured wouldn’t incite me to get jiggy with a perfect stranger.”
Dean made a disgusted face, “Get jiggy? What are you, twelve?” He huffed impatiently when his jibe didn’t garner any response from the other two.
“What I meant was,” Sam said carefully, “You don’t exactly know how this all went down, maybe they wanted to…I don’t know, forget about all of that.”
Dean honestly couldn’t believe that the two men were talking about them like they weren’t sitting just a few feet away. He felt his face heat, and knew that he was blushing furiously; this wasn’t what he intended to happen. He honestly just wanted to bring the prince his clothes, maybe help him with some of his wounds-Castiel at least wearing pants by that time-go back to his cabin and hopefully sleep away the rest of his horrible day. Now he just felt as though his good intentions had snowballed into the biggest cluster-fuck he could possibly make, all because he forgot to lock the door. Granted, at the frightening sight of the refresher when he first entered, locking the door didn’t enter into his mind.
He glanced at Castiel, who wrapped his borrowed robe closer around his body, and gave him a small apologetic grin. He was troubled as Castiel gazed back at him for only a moment before dropping away, to focus on his brother. Jimmy seemed to study the scene in front of him with new eyes, giving Dean some hope that maybe the other man wouldn’t drive Dean and Castiel apart.
“I can tell that there is more to this than I originally thought, but what do you think is going to happen once we return to the Rebel Hunters?” Jimmy asked the room softly. Dean’s stomach dropped, the other man had a point, though it bugged him to admit that the man was right.
“Enough.”
Castiel’s voice was low and rough, the timber of his voice was soft but firm, silencing the room better than shouting would have. The prince brushed past Dean as he slowly stood, leaving Dean feeling cold, “I do not wish to discuss this in front of an audience; this is a private matter between Dean and I. I wish it to remain as such.”
Although Dean felt utter dread at being alone with Castiel once the other two men left- a part of him knew that they weren’t going to continue what they were doing before Jimmy interrupted them- he couldn’t help but smile with pride as the smaller man stood up to his brother. Dean had found it difficult early on to be firm with Sam, even to this day he had a hard time standing up to his younger brother.
Castiel’s eyes scanned the two men before him, and continued quietly, “I will not have the both of you arguing; it is neither the time nor place for this. If I objected to any treatment on my person, I would have stopped it myself.” Castiel’s eyes softened only slightly as he looked over to Jimmy, “It is not your job to defend me, Jimmy. I understand that you feel the need to help me, but I have been alive just as long as you, and in this situation, I do not need your assistance.”
Dean took that time to get up off of the floor, and sat on the bench seat near the heating unit. He rubbed his face; he was so tired and for reasons he couldn’t explain, and it seemed that whatever force was out there controlling things- a force that Dean didn’t and never would believe in- wasn’t through screwing around with his life. He vaguely heard the prince asking- nay, commanding- the two other men to leave the room. This time the atmosphere in the room was tense, less intimate than it was before, when it was just the two of them.
The silence after the door slid shut was deafening, save the soft sounds of Castiel dressing. Dean averted his eyes while the prince dressed, suddenly uncomfortable. He looked back at Castiel after a few minutes, sure that he was finished. Gulping, he gazed at the sight before him; it was a major turn-on for him to see the prince in his old clothing. He thought that the clothing would be too big- Dean was built differently than the slender prince- but they fit him perfectly.
The clothes were simple and well-worn, but Castiel wore them elegantly. Black, shiny boots wrapped around his calves, fitting to his feet and legs as if they were made specifically to him. Navy blue, rough-weave breeches fit snugly, but not overly tight. A white shirt was tucked neatly into the breeches, with a black jacket thrown over it, for added warmth while they were between planets. Dean looked down at his own clothing, and was amused to see that they matched, right down to the shiny boots. He wondered whether he should look into a more varied wardrobe.
“Dean.”
He looked up into Castiel’s serious face, and guessed that the time for talking was at hand. He sighed and leaned his back against the wall, “Cas.”
He saw the prince’s lip twitch at the moniker, “I thank you for the clothing.”
The smuggler shrugged, “Don’t mention it; it’s the least I could do.”
They looked away from each other, and then it was so quiet, so tense that Dean was even more uncomfortable. Dean exhaled, and asked quietly, “So who’s going to bring it up, you or me?”
He looked back to see Castiel gazing at the floor, wishing the man who look him in the eye if they were going to do this. The prince leaned against the sink, and held the edges in a loose grip, “I believe that Jimmy raised a valid point.”
“You mean about the Rebel Hunters?” Dean couldn’t honestly see where they had anything to do with what was going on between him and Castiel. Come to think of it, Dean himself didn’t really understand how he could feel so close to someone without actually spending a whole day with them, all that he did know was that he wanted to pursue that connection. He could count on one hand how many times he felt that strongly about another person and still have a few fingers left. Dean didn’t know whether that was good, or really pathetic.
“Yes,” the prince answered quietly, “I have found myself in an awkward position.” More awkward than the one we were in before? Dean thought. As he caught Castiel coloring slightly, he had a panicked thought that the other man could actually hear him just then. He breathed a sigh of relief as Castiel cleared his throat and continued, “I have an obligation to lead them- many of them are the last living survivors of Alderaan. As such, they see me as their ruler, though I have no throne to speak of.”
“So, what?” Dean asked skeptically, “They won’t want you having a bit of fun?”
“It isn’t just that,” Castiel said, “Its always important when a royal has a… a mate, if you will. The Hunters are bound to notice if we act differently to each other. Since you are an outsider, someone they had never seen in my company before, they wouldn’t trust you.”
“And why would that make a difference?” Dean shot back, “People meet each other every day, and you’d think that they would be more trusting since I liberated you from the Galactic Host.”
“Some wouldn’t see it that way. They would think…”
And here we come to the gist of it, Dean fought the urge to roll his eyes, and finally stood, getting near enough to the other man that he could see the rise and fall of Castiel’s chest, “They would think I’m working for them as a spy because I’m a smuggler, is that it?”
“In not so many words,” Castiel whispered carefully, “It would be detrimental to my leadership if they started questioning my decisions, you know that.”
“I do,” Dean agreed, but he didn’t like it any less, “I think it’s the stupidest reason not to pursue something that could turn out to be really awesome- but who am I to decide for you? If you don’t want me, then you don’t, there’s nothing I can do to change that.” He almost turned away from the prince at that, but a hand to his chest stopped him. He glanced down at it in surprise, and looked back up to see the slight distressed look in the other man’s eyes.
“It’s not that I don’t want you, Dean,” he said softly, “But you must understand how delicate this is. If anyone found out my affection for you- that information in the wrong hands could mean disaster.” Castiel’s eyes slid to the shower cubicle for a few moments, and why, Dean didn’t know. The other man was clearly troubled, and he owed it to Castiel to at least hear him out.
He brushed his hand against Castiel’s cheek, his skin rasping lightly against the stubble, “Whatever it is, tell me. I can fix it.”
Castiel leaned against that hand, and breathed, “You can’t fix this.”
To say that Dean was alarmed was an understatement, “Cas, you have to let this out. You have enough on your shoulders; let me take some of the burden.”
Castiel’s eyes were bright as they locked onto Dean’s, “The Galactic Host- Zayder- is still looking for me. They will not rest, they will cut through everything- everyone- just to find me.” He shook his head, and exhaled shakily, “Everyone I loved, everyone I cared for, has died because of Zayder. If anything were to happen to you or Jimmy, because you were close to me? I couldn’t bear that.”
So Castiel could feel what was between them just as strongly as Dean could, which made this conversation hurt all the more. He knew the prince was right, but he wouldn’t be Dean Winchester if he didn’t try to save this, “I can’t be pushed away that easy, Cas. I’m not afraid of Zayder, and I won’t be killed that easy.”
“You should be afraid of him,” Castiel warned quietly, “He is a very evil man that will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”
“So you are just going to stop him all by yourself?” Dean asked incredulously, “What about Jimmy? What about me? We can help you.”
“I will send Jimmy away, somewhere that Zayder cannot find him,” Castiel intoned, the rough voice sounded almost desperate, “And I cannot ask you to help me, this isn’t your fight.”
“Not my fight?” Dean moved back, “In case you haven’t noticed, Bobby was more than my friend, and Zayder killed him to save us. That’s more than enough reason for me to kill that asshat,” he held up a hand as Castiel opened his mouth. He understood that there was more to Bobby letting himself die than met the eye, but that didn’t make him any less angry about it. “Besides,” Dean shrugged, “That’s what Winchesters do, we save people.”
“I don’t need saving.” Castiel growled.
“Yes, you do,” Dean argued, “This little crusade you’re on? It’s going to get you killed. Sure, you can shoot TIE fighters down left and right, but that doesn’t mean that you are a warrior. At the end of all of this, you will have to fight him, and none of your training is going to help you. It's experienced warriors you are going to need and you can’t afford to push volunteers ready to help just because you’re afraid of killing people. You aren’t equipped for leadership if you are afraid that other people might end up getting hurt.”
Castiel sighed, “It seems you have an answer for everything.”
“I do,” The smuggler grinned, “As for Jimmy? It would be cruel to send him away, you know that. You are all he has left, and he’s all that you have left of family. You never, ever, abandon family. No matter what the reasoning is.”
“Then what do you propose we do?”
Dean slowly grinned as he brushed Castiel’s hair back, “I say we kiss,” he put his words into action, sealing his lips over Castiel’s. For a moment, time slowed as they slowly explored each other’s mouth, their slick tongues tangling in renewed passion. Dean sighed as he felt Castiel pulling him closer, his arms curling around his waist to lightly clutch his back. Dean pulled back a little before they would get stuck in a similar situation as before and chuckled, “And make-up.”
“What happens when we reach the base?” Castiel asked, his voice muffled as he laid his head on the smuggler’s muscled shoulder.
Dean rested his head against Castiel’s, and whispered, “They won’t have to know anything, like you said to Jimmy and Sam-this is a private thing between us. We’ll just…be very careful.”
The smuggler shuddered as he felt Castiel’s lips brush against the sensitive skin of his neck as he spoke, “This is dangerous, Dean. This could end badly.”
“It could,” Dean agreed, “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
It was unusually quiet in the cock-pit when Dean entered- after showing Castiel to passenger sleeping area- the soft beeping of the controls the only sound. Dean was brought up short in the doorway at the sight of his brother; he was facing him in his co-pilot’s chair with his arms folded across his chest, a stony look on his young features, and the older Winchester braced himself for a monumental bitch fit. He should have known that his brother was not fine with the scene in the refresher unit as he seemed to act. Dean grunted as he copied Sam’s position, only leaned against the doorframe, his face just as serious as his jaw tensed. He exhaled through his nose in sudden frustration, “What?”
Sam cocked his eyebrow, “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m standing here looking at my bitch of a brother, what’s it look like?” Dean shot back.
The younger Winchester rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean, Dean.”
Dean shook his head as he moved to sit in the captain’s chair, “It’s none of your business,” he stated through clenched teeth as he leaned into the soft leather. He stared out into the vast expanse of space through the view-screen before him, and cursed that they were still hours away from the Rebel Hunter base. He didn’t want to have yet another tense conversation with his brother; it wasn’t what either of them needed at the moment.
“Yes it is my business, Dean. We’re in this together, believe it or not.”
Dean glared, “My sex life has nothing to do with you, so stay out of it.”
Sam scoffed in disgust, “When you bring your sex life into the refresher unit, it’s hard to stay out of it.”
“Okay, so that was a mistake,” Dean admitted, “But look, it happened and it’s not like I can take it back now. I wouldn’t even if I could.”
“Can you hear yourself right now?” Sam asked incredulously, “You do understand that getting it on with a prince is stupid, right? Why would you think a prince would want to put everything on the line for-” He stopped suddenly.
“For what, Sam?” Dean asked his younger brother darkly, “For a guy like me?” Yeah, Dean knew that it probably wouldn’t work out, the man was a prince and was used to a certain lifestyle- a lifestyle in which Dean couldn’t and most likely wouldn’t try to provide.
Dean knew he was attractive, had inherited his looks from his very attractive parents, but looks could only go so far. He could get annoying; the two Winchesters had some pretty epic battles because Dean couldn’t leave well enough alone. He admitted that he had a lot of faults, and kept his life a secret from his significant others. Even with all of those reasons why they shouldn’t be together, he still wanted to try. Couldn’t Dean have something for himself, just this once? Something that didn’t have anything to do with his family or the rotten choices he’s made so far?
“That’s not what I was going to say-”
Dean sighed and roughly rubbed his face, “I don’t really care what you think about it, and didn’t I tell you that we aren’t going to talk about that?”
Sam scowled and looked away, “Fine.” He stabbed a few button and read the readouts from a small screen, “We’re six hours away from the base, so once we get there, we’ll be able to drop them off and forget this ever happened.”
Sam paused as he didn’t hear a response back from Dean, and asked quietly, “Right, Dean?”
The other Winchester shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “I was thinking…about helping them.” He owed it to them- to Bobby- to help the Rebel Hunters. If he could redeem the horrible things he had done under Alastair’s employ, and destroy the most evil force gripping the galaxy while he was at it? He would do it in a heartbeat. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to live with himself if he turned his back on Bobby’s sacrifice, if he turned his back on Castiel.
Sam slumped in his seat, “You have got to be kidding me, dude.”
“They need help, Sam-”
“This isn’t our fight, Dean!” Sam shouted, “We don’t owe them anything!”
“We may not owe them, but we owe Bobby. He gave his life-”
“He gave his life to save us, Dean,” Sam interrupted, “Not to have us go join a failed cause.”
A failed cause, that’s how Sam wanted to phrase it? The eldest Winchester shook his head in disappointment; he suddenly realized why Bobby asked Dean to see their journey through- for when the going got tough, Sam got going. It was a horrible thought to think about his brother, but Sam was never one to fight for anything except for a normal life. He couldn’t blame the younger man; after losing their mother, their father went off the deep end, taking any bounty hunting job he could find to drown himself of her memory. Since he was saddled with two children by that time, he had to cart them around as well, pulling them into his dark life.
Soon, all the boys had were each other, even after Bobby started to take care of them. Only when they were old enough to start going out on their own did they find out that John Winchester pulled some strings to send Sammy to the Academy, keeping the money in an account that they couldn’t touch until the time came. The only thing John left Dean were his weapons, his ship- the Millennium Impala- and a lifelong debt to the crime lord Alastair that Dean wasn’t sure he could ever repay. As soon as Sam was old enough, and was accepted to the Academy on Coruscant, he left without looking back… leaving Dean utterly alone. Four years had flown by, the only communication between the brothers were the occasional holo-messages spaced few and far between due to Dean’s work with Alastair.
“It’s not a failed cause, Sam. It’s what’s right.” Dean wasn’t just disappointed to hear that coming from his brother, he was also guilty. He felt guilty that by just his presence in Sam’s life, his brother started to change into a person that closely resembled their father by each passing day. He knew he should have never visited Coruscant two years ago; if he hadn’t, his brother would be happy with a steady job and his beautiful fiancé, Jessica.
Sam shook his head, “We can’t go up against the Galactic Host, Dean. They’ll kill us; all we will accomplish is to piss them off a little before they blow us up.” Sam shook his head, “No, we’re not doing this. I’m not going to watch you die just because you feel the need to help some guy you made out with in our bathroom.”
Dean made a disapproving sound in his throat, “Sam-”
“No,” Sam interrupted, “If you decide to fight, then I’m not going to be there to watch the fall out.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be then?” He honestly didn’t think that Sam would drop that ultimatum on him, he grew cold with shock. He should have known- Sam always fought dirty- he learned that from his older brother. He never thought that Sam would use the same lessons on Dean that he painstakingly taught his younger brother while they were growing up. He knew where this sudden anger came from, this desperate desire to keep his brother away from the fighting, though they never spoke of it. Sam never wanted to talk about Jessica, and Dean was loathe to bring it up, dreading what would come out of the conversation.
“Yeah,” Sam nodded, his hands clenched on the steering column, “I’m not going to lose you too, over something this reckless.”
Dean sighed as he entered his private sleeping quarters, and leaned against the door once it swooshed closed behind him. After the uncomfortable conversation with Sam, he had decided to leave the cockpit and try to get a few hours’ sleep. With his recent bouts of insomnia-let alone the day he had- he wasn’t all too sure he would be able to get any rest.
With a hopeful gaze at his bed that was built into the wall, he shrugged off his dark jacket and slumped into the steel chair next to the door. He slowly leaned down to unbuckle his boots, and afterwards unstrapped the blaster from his thigh. It was about as much as he was willing to undress while out in space, and so soon after a fight with TIE fighters. There could still be more out there, and could be tracking the Millennium Falcon at that very moment. There were too many variables out there to consider, and he had to make sure that if or when they were attacked, that he was ready.
One of those variables had to do with the two strangers that were currently dwelling in their ship. He didn’t like the thought that they would want to kill him in his sleep, but in this day and age, one cannot be too careful. Not only were the two brothers strangers to Dean and Sam, one of them was a key player in the destruction of the Galactic Host, the other- well, he could very well be a spy for the Galactic Host: Jimmy was a stranger to Dean, had lived very close to Bobby and had recently spent a significant amount of time around the older man. Dean wasn’t about to trust anyone- save his brother- no matter how friendly they seemed to be or how genuine.
He stood, rubbing the back of his neck wearily- already his mind shutting down. Dean trudged to his bed; the unstrapped blaster caged in his tightly fisted hand, and fell face first into his pillow. The blaster was shoved underneath the other pillow, aimed at the wall to make sure he didn’t accidentally blow his own head off. It was a position that came naturally to him, made it easier to fall asleep- even if it was a light doze.
All too soon, that feeling of dread that roiled through his stomach ever since entering the Morning Star came back with a vengeance. It grew colder in his room, and Dean shivered in his sleep as the first tendrils of a dream- no, a memory- came into focus.
It was a blissful, sunny afternoon; the warm sun was shining in his face as he stood in the middle of a crowded marketplace. He scanned the crowd, looking for his brother’s familiar form. A smile stretched across his tanned face as he spotted the tall man walking with a beautiful woman, and thought of how happy his little brother looked. He raised a hand, caught his brother’s attention; although it quickly faded as his brother’s face drained of all color, the red light of a blaster bolt soared over Dean’s shoulder. It struck home in the tall woman’s chest with alarming accuracy; she fell, her skin pale as a ghost’s, matching his brother’s as he stumbled to catch her.
Voices faded, the soothing sound of wind chimes near him pealed, the breeze cooling like a death chill, and the once soothing rays of the sun burned in his eyes as he raced towards his stunned brother. Glancing over his shoulder his heart seized as he recognized the armor of a strange man standing amongst the crowd. The man lowered his arm, stood to stare for one more moment, before disappearing in a blink of an eye. As he came upon the devastating scene, it seemed like Dean and his brother traded perspective. Now Dean was the one looking up at his brother, the younger man gazing down upon him in shock and remorse. He blinked, and is attention suddenly focused on the body that he was cradling with such care. His stomach dropped, for gazing up at him in such disbelief was the one person he had allowed himself to care deeply for.
Castiel.
The smuggler sat up suddenly in his bed, the sheets tangled around his form, his skin clammy with cold sweat. His muscles were shaking in panic, the dream had felt all too real, and Dean knew that the prince had become far too close for his own good. He lifted the hand that held his blaster, making a small sound of surprise as it was empty.
He didn’t have to look for it, the blaster was set upon the table beside his bed, and sitting beside him was the reason for his current state of being. The young prince was sitting primly in the steel chair, his hands resting lightly atop his thighs. Dean wanted to squirm under that guileless blue gaze, he was never a recipient of such attention before, and wasn’t used to seeing Castiel gazing at him with such openness.
Dean frowned and rubbed his face to will away the slight tremors, “Dude, you’re watching me sleep? That’s…creepy.”
“I heard you,” He said softly.
“You heard me?” Dean asked flatly, “Through the steel walls and the blast doors? I find that hard to believe.”
Castiel looked away, his eyes never blinking as he looked around the room, “I cannot explain it myself. All that I know was that I awoke to the sound of your voice. I knew that you were distressed, so I...”
“You came to see me,” he answered for the prince, almost whispering. He couldn’t explain how he felt about that, the honesty in which Castiel said it. He felt a loosening in his chest, a lightness that he hadn’t felt for a very long time. His leaned back against his headboard, and picked at his blanket, needing something to do with his hands.
Which stilled as Castiel covered one with his own. Dean looked up and their eyes caught, once again he felt that same intensity as before, only muted now. They watched each other, neither one was ready to speak, and Dean wondered just what exactly Castiel could see in his eyes. The last dregs of that dream still weighed on him, it wasn’t just what happened that bothered him; it was the switch in perspective. The dream never changed like that before; he was never one to let people get so close to him, and now that the dream had changed, he feared for Castiel’s life. Sam was right; he had to let the prince go, even though it hurt Dean to think about it.
Castiel’s brow furrowed slightly, and his head tilted to the side, “What were you dreaming about?”
He had a chance to tell him, tell the prince the truth and strengthen the bond that Dean knew had to be growing more with each passing minute in each other’s company. If he did that though, it would only hurt more once Dean left for good. So he shoved away those feeling that blossomed in his chest whenever he was near the prince, closed them off so that they wouldn’t influence him into staying, and he made his body relax. He winked at the prince, noting the confusion that suffused Castiel’s face and said, “Rats. They freak me out.”
The prince drew back, and frowned. He thought- knew- that it was something else; something that the smuggler before him was keeping secret. Why he wouldn’t tell the prince, Castiel didn’t know. A part of him questioned why Dean would ever share any confidence with the royal, they hardly knew each other, and Castiel hadn’t earned the right to ask. So Castiel watched as his hands threaded together and nodded silently, sensing that something was changing between him, and felt his shoulders tense with dread.
There was a knock at the door, and Dean sighed. Whoever it was, they were going to question why the prince was in his room, but at the moment he didn’t care. He straightened and called, “Come in.”
The door opened, and Sam frowned as he caught sight of the prince, “We’re in the Yavin system. I need Castiel’s directions to the base.”
Castiel’s eyes flicked to Dean’s, his face was shadowed as he sensed the tension between the brothers, especially in his company. He stood from his chair and turned to Dean, wanting to say something- anything- to bring back that intimacy they shared before. Because at that moment, with Sam waiting impatiently in the door, and Dean so closed off, it was starting to feel like ‘goodbye’.
A few minutes later, they approached the moon where the secret Rebel Hunter base resided. They dropped into orbit, and Dean leaned back in his seat, feeling sick at the thought of leaving them to attack the Morning Star alone. They would be better off without him- he knew- and Dean felt that by just being near him, their luck would swiftly turn bad.
He watched as the scenery changed from a starlit sky, to clouds, and then to a beautiful jungle landscape. Dean had visited many planets in his line of work, all of them ranging from a vast desert, to an endless seascape. He had to say, that it was nice to see such a lush area: it was as if he could smell the greenery, feel the moisture in the air, and the heat that would most assuredly feel stifling after a few minutes. The silvery mist gilded the gentle folds of the jungle, and shrouded the ancient temple that Castiel directed them to.
As they opened the hatch to exit the ship, they were immediately beset by the warm, humid air, the air redolent with exotic flowers. The cries of hidden creatures echoed in the open space in the clearing, their song disrupted by the roaring of a vehicle approaching the small group. Each man looked at one another, nodded, and entered the vehicle with Castiel sitting solemnly in the front. Dean shivered as they drove into the mouth of the temple, be it from the sudden cool shade or perhaps from the ominous imagery of being swallowed by darkness, it was uncertain.
The military vehicle stopped in a large room, small fighter ships ringed the area, and supplies were strewn about in relaxed clusters. The vehicle was soon surrounded by men- all of them Rebel Hunters- and only one seemed to be recognizable to Castiel. Dean knew him to be the commander of these men, he wore the stripes of a military man, and everyone seemed to answer to him. He felt a vicious stab of jealousy as the man’s face broke into a bright smile at the sight of Castiel. The smuggler looked over to see Castiel’s eyes soften, the only way the prince seemed to smile, and knew that they were friends. The older man walked over to Castiel’s door, opened it for him and gripped the prince’s offered forearm- it was a form of handshake for the Rebel Hunters.
The older man quickly pulled the prince into a one-armed hug, saying fiercely, “We thought we lost you, your highness. It is beyond well to see that you are safe.” He drew back and cleared his throat to compose himself and bowed, “When we received word about Alderaan...we feared that we had lost you along with your father. May Faith rest his soul.”
Castiel looked down for a brief moment, mourning the loss of a great man, and straightened, “Now is not the time to drown in our grief, Commander. I fear-” Castiel chanced a look to Dean, “that the Morning Star has tracked us here. It is the only way to explain the ease of our escape. To plan the attack, you must use the information stored in the R2 unit. It is our only chance.”
A few of the commander’s men retrieved BeckyD2, and led her to a closed-off area. “They are taking the droid to our war room,” the commander explained, “There it will be examined by our technicians to retrieve the plans. The men are pleased to see that you are safe- myself included. Raphael wishes to speak with you, but you clearly look in need of rest, my prince.”
Castiel nodded; the strain that he was barely keeping in check seemed to suffuse his being for a quick second before he masked it once again, “I will rest when we are not in such a weak position, commander. It is refreshing to hear that Raphael was not lost as well, I assumed that he was still grounded on Alderaan.”
The commander made a face; Raphael was not as popular with the Rebel Hunters as Castiel was. The man had a temper, and was more aloof in his regard to others. Castiel knew he could be closed off at times, but Raphael could be so unapproachable, that it came off as rude. Castiel’s father had problems with him, especially when Raphael would speak up in his own defense, unwilling to take Castiel’s direction. He was grounded from travelling as punishment for his attitude. The commander coughed delicately, “It seems that Raphael and your father reconciled before…the unfortunate events. He joined us the moment he could, about to suggest a rescue mission for you.”
Dean’s brow furrowed, that piece of information didn’t sit well with the smuggler, nor with the rest of the men gathered. To send anyone to the Morning Star was murder, they would have been killed in moments, if they were lucky. The Galactic Host was sure to recognize the colors of the Rebel Hunters, and act accordingly. Dean wanted desperately to speak up, to help their situation in some way, to warn Castiel, but one look at his brother shut him up. It seemed that their time with the Rebel Hunters, and their reluctant leader, was growing short.
Castiel nodded respectfully at the commander, his face revealing nothing, “Then it is well that he survived."
He could taste them, they were that close.
Zayder knew he shouldn’t let the impatience that was roiling through his being consume him, but they were so very close. He couldn’t wait to choke the life from the captain’s body when the Sith found him. He could just imagine the look on the prince’s face as he slowly slaughtered every single Rebel Hunter currently dwelling in the base right in front of him. He was startled out of his reverie by the sound of the intercom beeping. He turned to see Uriel’s lips thin as he pushed the button, “What is it?”
“We are approaching the planet Yavin, sir,” the tinny voice said, “the Rebel Hunter base is on the farthest moon, on the other side of the planet. We are preparing to orbit.”
Zayder turned back to the large view-screen before him and smiled once again with evil glee, “Excellent.”
The Rebel Hunters were gathered in a large room, Castiel and the other senators were sitting off to one side lining the wall. The rest of the men took up any space that they could- Jimmy was surrounded by star pilots, navigators, and droids sitting on anything they could find- with Raphael standing in all of his glory before a giant electronic wall display. Jimmy frowned; Castiel should have been up there to address the Rebel Hunters, though it seemed that due to the other man’s nature, Castiel was tossed to the side. He caught sight of the Winchester brothers near the back, next to the exit blast doors and for some reason, Jimmy had the worst feeling of apprehension than ever before. Sam leaned against the wall beside the doorway with his arms folded, while all Dean could do was slump beside him. Everyone- save the two brothers- were focused totally on Raphael and Jimmy could feel the apprehension of everyone involved.
“Good morning, gentlemen. We don’t have much time, so save the questions until after the meeting. We are gathered here for a momentous occasion, to destroy the Morning Star for good. To be able to destroy the battle station, we must learn what exactly we are up against. The Morning Star is heavily shielded, so a direct attack will be impossible,” Raphael motioned to the digital display behind him, “This battle station carries a firepower that’s greater than half of our star fleet, and we have all seen what it can do. However, since its defense is designed around a direct, large-scale assault, a small one-man fighter would be able to penetrate its outer defenses.”
Raphael nodded as a man in the front row of the group raised his hand, he would have been irritated if it was anyone other than the best fighter pilot in their fleet. The man’s uniform was mostly gold and white- the colors of the Rebel Hunter’s armada- his handle was Gold Leader, and was addressed as such by the other men. Gold leader nodded back and lowered his hand, “Permission to speak freely sir, but what is a one-man fighter against a force like that?”
“That is because the Galactic Host doesn’t consider a one-man fighter as much of a threat, or their defense would be tighter, considering both their battle station and their general security.” Raphael’s jaw tightened as he glanced at Castiel for a moment, “Our analysis of the plans provided by Prince Castiel gave us a clear view of a weakness in the Morning Star.” He laced his fingers behind his back, and walked across the display, “Our approach will not be easy.”
He stopped at the left side of the display, and the hologram shifted to display Raphael’s narration, “One fighter is to maneuver through the main trench, and skin along the surface until they reach this small area.” He gestured to a small opening along the trench, “This targeted space is about two meters wide. It is a small, thermal exhaust port, right below the main port. The shaft leads directly to the main reactor, a precise hit will start a chain reaction which will destroy the station.”
Jimmy exhaled an anxious breath, and he could feel the unease of everyone around him, the room a-buzz with tense discussion. After a few moments, all the attention drew back to Raphael, who stood beside the wall display stiffly. His pursed lips relaxed, and he spoke quietly, “Only a precise shot will set off the chain reaction, gentlemen. The shaft will be ray-shielded, so there will be need for the proton torpedoes.”
“Then it’s hopeless!” A man beside Jimmy explained, “There is no one living that could accomplish that, even if you programmed a computer.”
Jimmy snorted, the sound silencing the room as all eyes turned to the young man. Coloring slightly, Jimmy went on to explain, “It’s not exactly that hard, my uncle and I used to bulls eye womp rats near the homestead. There weren’t that much bigger than two meters.”
It was so quiet in their war room that Jimmy grew uncomfortable really quick, and all the men were staring at him. Dean winked at him from the doorway, Castiel’s face relaxed, but Raphael on the other hand- he seemed to be almost glaring at Jimmy. The man paused as he gazed over the assembled men; everyone could feel that this could be their last mission- that they would not survive this time. It had a sobering effect on the crowd, but Jimmy knew that these were the type of people that will never turn back, no matter what the cost. Raphael nodded, “To your ships, and may faith go with you.”
The Morning Star moved steadily closer to the moon base; Zayder was caught between that moment of triumph and the sobering moments of caution before battle. He was a realist, no matter what accomplishments the Galactic Host made; there was always a chance that this time they could be defeated. He had a plan if the Morning Star failed- Zayder was a survivalist at heart- and would implement that very strategy if all else failed. He would join the garrison when they fought the Rebel Hunters- entertaining nostalgic memories, yes- and will show the Rebel Hunters the power of the Galactic Host.
He heard the voice on the intercom alert them, “We are orbiting the planet Yavin at maximum velocity, Commander. The Rebel hunter base will be in sight within thirty minutes.”
“This day is going to go down in the holocrons. We have seen the end of Robert Singer, and will witness the destruction of the Rebel Hunters,” Zayder inhaled, and slapped a hand on Uriel’s shoulder; he was feeling positively giddy with excitement for the battle, “Drink it in, Uriel.”
Jimmy stood from his chair to leave with the other men, searching the room for any sight of the Winchesters. His stomach dropped as he couldn’t find them, though why it did he wasn’t sure; he knew that they were around somewhere, it wasn’t like they would leave without saying goodbye- at least he didn’t think they would.
His brow furrowed, he had to find them and make sure they weren’t about to do something foolish. He was stopped by a hand on his arm, his gaze locked with Castiel’s, “I need to find them, Cas. I have a bad feeling.”
Castiel gazed at him in all seriousness, and nodded, “Then I shall trust your judgment. We will find them.”
They left the room, and searched the hangar for any sign of either the two brothers or the Millennium Impala. It took only a few minutes, and Jimmy’s bad feeling tripled when he saw the two brothers set apart from the rest of the pilots. The Rebel Hunters were making the last minute checks on the X-wings: making sure everything was in working order before setting out on their mission. The two brothers however, were doing no such thing, much to Jimmy’s disappointment. Dean’s back was to them, while Sam scurried around the area to check for any last-minute repairs they could do. They were surrounded by large canisters, obviously the reward that Raphael gave for the rescue of their prince.
Jimmy stopped suddenly in shock, oblivious to the other men forced to move around him, “What are you doing?”
Dean froze momentarily, up until now he was focused on just getting the money into the ship, and only then would he think of a way to leave without causing any grief. It seemed as though his plans weren’t going the way he wanted them to today. His eyes closed for a moment, taken aback at the amount of betrayal in Jimmy’s voice. They would be better off without him around- he just had to keep reminding himself of that. He forced his voice to harden, and kept his back to him, “Exactly what it looks like, we’re leaving.”
Jimmy frowned, “So that’s it? You get your reward and…you’re done?”
Sam walked up to the group when he heard Jimmy’s voice, it was his idea to leave, so he wasn’t about to let his brother handle the consequences of his decision. He stopped at the other side of the large canister that Dean was securing, and felt a little guilty at seeing the clenched look on Dean’s face. Sam sighed, “It’s not just that Jimmy-”
“No, it’s exactly that,” Dean interrupted harshly; his frustration was echoed by his actions as he viciously jerked the straps that held the canisters to the loading decks they were resting on, “I have debts that I need to pay off using this money.”
“How much?”
Dean’s stomach dropped as he heard Castiel’s quiet voice- he wasn’t expecting him to be standing there with his twin. He turned around slowly, and felt worse when he caught sight of Castiel’s cold expression, “Cas…” Please don’t do this, Dean thought.
“How much did you receive for my rescue?” Castiel asked again doggedly.
Dean struggled with the answer, knowing full well that money wasn’t the only thing Castiel was asking about. He knew full well that it made Dean look like such a cad, taking the money and leaving after what they shared together. He really needed the money, to save not only his own life- but his brother’s. He had to leave, and not just because his brother threatened to leave without him. Really, if Dean was being honest with himself, it all came down to one thing.
Fear.
Dean was afraid of losing not only his brother, but was afraid of losing Castiel as well. The prince managed to break through every barrier that Dean erected, the smuggler had revealed so much of himself to Castiel- too much, he believed- that if he stayed, the young man would end up killed. Or worse. So it came down to one thing: hurt the prince so effectively that the prince wouldn’t try to make him stay- because if the prince asked him anything, Dean would so it.
Dean looked him in the eye and bit out, “One hundred thousand credits; give or take.”
Castiel nodded slowly, looking away for a moment before facing him again. His face was frozen, but his eyes- Oh god, his eyes, Dean thought- were shattered, “I see. I hope it was worth it.”
Dean swallowed thickly, and said quietly, “It was worth it, but even if I didn’t get the money, I wouldn’t stay.” He looked away as his voice cracked, he wished he didn’t have to do this but with one look at his brother he continued, “Going up against the Morning Star is suicide and you know it, Cas. You won’t be coming back from this.”
Jimmy shook his head, “I never thought that you of all people would say that, Dean. You know what happened there, to all of us. Bobby. Don’t turn your back on us now, we need you.”
Dean looked at Sam, practically begging him with his eyes, hoping against hope that this confrontation would sway him. Sam turned away, giving Dean his answer without saying a damn thing. Fuck it, Dean thought acidly, he was a grown man and able to make his own damned decisions. If Sam wanted to leave, then he was going to try his damndest to get Jimmy and Castiel to come with them.
Dean stepped closer to the twins, “Come with us. You’re only going to end up dead.”
Dean stumbled back as suddenly Castiel was in his face, his blue eyes alight with anger as he whispered, “These are my people- it is my duty to the Rebel Hunters that I fight with them and for them. I would rather die for something that I believe in, than to run away like a coward.” The prince gazed into Dean’s eyes for the final time; either to drive his point home, or to memorize each unique feature, the prince didn’t know or care. He moved back; suddenly weary of the drama that had ensued, “Come, Jimmy. The Rebel Hunters need our help, let’s not disappoint them.”
Jimmy slowly turned away and walked towards the ships getting ready for departure. Castiel strayed behind, saying quietly, “I should have known better than to put my trust in you.”
Dean’s shoulders slumped as he watched the prince walk away, his heart growing heavy with each retreating step. Dean had to watch a number of people and opportunities walk away from him, simply because he was either trying to make his father or his brother happy. Once again, his brother won, and Dean hurt someone that he was connecting so strongly with. He stiffened when he felt his brother’s large hand on his shoulder; he turned to him and shrugged his hand off roughly, “Don’t try to act like you feel bad for me, dude. You won.” With that, he roughly brushed past his brother and retreated into the Millennium Impala.
“That lying, cowardly, son-of-a-bitch!” Jimmy raged.
Castiel sighed, letting go of his anger while talking to Dean and Sam was probably the worst thing to do around Jimmy. He regretted the whole conversation, knowing full well that he should have tried to see things from Dean’s point of view. In hindsight the man looked defeated and scared; Castiel should have tried to get to the truth of the matter instead of focusing on his own problems. Some rational negotiator he turned out to be, the one time he could have used his skills to dissolve the argument he threw it all away by letting his emotions get the better of him.
He had to set everything aside for now, and examine all of these issues when he had the luxury to think for a few moments. Preferably when the Morning Star was destroyed and they weren’t in constant peril. “He had to choose his own path, Jimmy.” Castiel said quietly, “We cannot choose it for him, no matter how much we want to.”
Jimmy nodded in agreement, “You’re right. I wish Bobby was here, I doubt he would let Dean and Sam leave.” Jimmy looked over at his twin as he was checking over the X-wing beside his, “Uh, what are you doing?”
“I’m going to help in the battle, I thought that was obvious.”
“Like Hell you are!” Jimmy exclaimed. He ducked his head, embarrassed by all of the attention his outburst caused.
Castiel frowned, “I will not stand by and let other’s fight in my stead.”
“But-”
“No,” Castiel interrupted, “If you go, then so shall I. If we are to die, then we will die together. I am going with you, and that is final.” The two brothers shared a soulful look, believing that it would be the last time that they saw each other. Two steps closer and they were gripping each other’s forearms tightly, smiling tightly before breaking away. They climbed the ladders into their respective ships, and Jimmy gave Castiel a quick ‘thumbs up’. His brother gave him a curious look before giving him the same signal, albeit uncertainly.
Jimmy settled back into his pilot’s chair, tugged on his flight helmet, and gripped the steering column in a sweaty grip. He could hear the voices of the scattered crewmen, the navigators, and the other pilots babbling over each other in his headphones. Everyone was filled with nervous energy, excitement, and trepidation for what they were about to possibly accomplish. Jimmy was anxious, but the feelings were mixed with fear and doubt rather than excitement. It was true that he was growing bored with the hydro-farm, and wished for something more out of his life, but was this really it? They were going up against something so huge- so frightening- that Jimmy was starting to nervously feel as if he had bitten off more than he could chew.
He looked up through the wind-shield and was surprised to see Chuck3PO standing at the side of his ship, talking to BeckyD2. It may have just been Jimmy’s paranoia about the coming battle wreaking havoc on his mind, but he could have sworn that the droid looked… anxious? He shook his head in amusement- he was letting his mind play tricks on him.
“Be careful Becky,” Chuck3PO said seriously, “You’ve got to come back.”
She beeped at him softly in reply and Chuck3PO laughed quietly to himself, “You wouldn’t want my life to get boring, now do you?” She whistled at him as the chief crewman directed the robot away, waving a signal to the other crewmen to finish their last adjustments.
The cockpit shield rolled smoothly into place over Jimmy’s head, the fueling hose disengaged and he heard the roar of the other engines as they were revving for action. Jimmy wished fervently that Dean was coming with them, that he had changed his mind, hoping against all hope that they weren’t going to all die before he had a chance to at least punch the man for abandoning them. Jimmy let out a nervous breath through his nose as a man directed the ships to lift off with red signaling lights- it was now, or never.
Just before he maneuvered his ship in position, he heard a familiar voice say, “Jimmy, Faith goes with you.” He shook his head and tapped his headphones to make sure he wasn’t picking up some strange feed, and wondered if now was the best time for him to go crazy.
Chapter Six
By:Wynna Pendragon
Rating:PG-13
Pairing:Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: All spoilers for Star Wars, and Supernatural
Warnings: Star Wars fusion.
Summary: Hunted by the Host’s most menacing agents, Prince Castiel races home aboard his starship, guardian of the secret plans that could not only save his charges, but the entire galaxy…
Feedback: Is appreciated.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Star Wars, or the characters and concepts within.
Author's Notes: Thanks goes to kitty_alex, currently all mistakes are mine. Links to the previous chapters are here.
Chapter Five
Zayder strolled into the control room in obvious high spirits, and joined Governor Uriel at the huge view screen that stretched across the far wall. He didn’t exactly care what Uriel was looking at, only that the other man was perturbed, his lips pursed as he glared at the screen. The Sith commander grinned and lightly clasped his hands behind his back, rocking slightly on his booted heels. Uriel glanced over at him, making a disapproving sound in his throat before turning back to the screen in front of him, “You look like you’ve had a good day. I can’t imagine why.”
No, he thought dryly, of course you wouldn’t, you great fool. Setting aside how angry he became when Bobby decided to fight him in front of the entire garrison stationed in the hangar- only to just give up at the last moment- and how furious he was when Casitel managed to escape with his cronies, he was actually pleased with how the events of the day played out.
He had managed to destroy the last of the Jedi, discovered that he had another child, and shattered Castiel’s calm reserve…for the time being at least. He was sure that the young man would be able to bounce back from their little conversation, but the dark Sith planted the seeds of doubt, and that was all that mattered. He did count on Castiel to break and join him while still on the Morning Star, but he wouldn’t be where he was now if he didn’t come up with alternative plans.
“Would you rather having me angry? Because I can assure you,” he said darkly as he turned towards the other man, who drew back slightly, “I would be able to arrange that.”
Uriel shook his head and looked away, anxious to change the subject, “What news on the Millennium Impala?”
“Well, after they vanquished your sub-par pilots,” Zayder grinned at the slight flinch that caused, “They made the jump into hyperspace.”
“So you confirm that the homing beacon that my men placed on their ship is in working order?” Uriel tensely asked, “I am risking more than you know, Zayder.”
The objective was to find out where the Rebel Hunters’ base was; Uriel believed that the prince would want to get the information he had gleaned to them as soon as possible, and Zayder knew that he wasn’t wrong in that assumption. Uriel ordered a small group to place a tiny homing beacon into the Millennium Impala, after the unfortunate events in the detention area. The Sith commander felt it prudent to keep the homing device on their side, so that he would know where his prey was at all times. Whoever aided Castiel and Jimmy in their escape will pay dearly once Zayder found them.
Oh yes, there would be Hell to pay.
He grinned with malicious glee, “You just concern yourself with running the Morning Star, Governor. Let me handle the more important matters.”
Dean slowly pulled back from gnawing on the prince’s neck; the voice was unusually loud in the balmy room, the words sharp and commanding. It was an instinctual thing to obey- his father was a hard man to ignore, and instilled that obedience in the boys early on, though the man had been dead for years; so Dean was nonetheless surprised and dismayed as he turned to see the slight figure of Jimmy in the doorway to the refresher. He was white as a ghost, with a slight shade of green that Dean never knew an actual human being could achieve, and stared at them with wide eyes. Dean bit his lip and sat back on his heels, he had a feeling that this was going to be bad.
To make matters worse, he could hear his little brother’s distinctive footfalls coming closer. He closed his eyes as the footsteps stopped, “What’s going on? I heard Jimmy-Uh, Dean…what’re you-”
“This is very awkward,” Jimmy sighed, his voice shaking a little as he came down from his shock, “I… walked in on Dean taking advantage of my brother.”
Dean opened his eyes and frowned at the shorter man as he tried to diffuse the situation, “Look Jim-”
“Whoa, wait a minute here, Jimmy,” Sam interrupted, “My brother would never-”
“Then how would you explain it, Sam?” Jimmy asked reasonably, “Castiel hardly knows Dean, why would he let Dean…you know.” He made a vague gesture, coloring slightly in embarrassment.
Dean huffed, he was starting to get a bit irritated at being interrupted, “Guys-”
“Oh come on,” Sam scoffed lightly, rolling his eyes at the shorter man, “My brother would never take advantage of someone that didn’t want it, how do you know that Castiel didn’t lead him on? Besides,” he pointed at long finger at Jimmy, “You don’t exactly know any of us, including your brother.”
Dean sighed, “Sammy-”
“I may not know everything about him Sam, and I’m not saying that I do,” Jimmy went on to explain, “I just find it hard to believe that Castiel would start something like this so suddenly. Being tortured wouldn’t incite me to get jiggy with a perfect stranger.”
Dean made a disgusted face, “Get jiggy? What are you, twelve?” He huffed impatiently when his jibe didn’t garner any response from the other two.
“What I meant was,” Sam said carefully, “You don’t exactly know how this all went down, maybe they wanted to…I don’t know, forget about all of that.”
Dean honestly couldn’t believe that the two men were talking about them like they weren’t sitting just a few feet away. He felt his face heat, and knew that he was blushing furiously; this wasn’t what he intended to happen. He honestly just wanted to bring the prince his clothes, maybe help him with some of his wounds-Castiel at least wearing pants by that time-go back to his cabin and hopefully sleep away the rest of his horrible day. Now he just felt as though his good intentions had snowballed into the biggest cluster-fuck he could possibly make, all because he forgot to lock the door. Granted, at the frightening sight of the refresher when he first entered, locking the door didn’t enter into his mind.
He glanced at Castiel, who wrapped his borrowed robe closer around his body, and gave him a small apologetic grin. He was troubled as Castiel gazed back at him for only a moment before dropping away, to focus on his brother. Jimmy seemed to study the scene in front of him with new eyes, giving Dean some hope that maybe the other man wouldn’t drive Dean and Castiel apart.
“I can tell that there is more to this than I originally thought, but what do you think is going to happen once we return to the Rebel Hunters?” Jimmy asked the room softly. Dean’s stomach dropped, the other man had a point, though it bugged him to admit that the man was right.
“Enough.”
Castiel’s voice was low and rough, the timber of his voice was soft but firm, silencing the room better than shouting would have. The prince brushed past Dean as he slowly stood, leaving Dean feeling cold, “I do not wish to discuss this in front of an audience; this is a private matter between Dean and I. I wish it to remain as such.”
Although Dean felt utter dread at being alone with Castiel once the other two men left- a part of him knew that they weren’t going to continue what they were doing before Jimmy interrupted them- he couldn’t help but smile with pride as the smaller man stood up to his brother. Dean had found it difficult early on to be firm with Sam, even to this day he had a hard time standing up to his younger brother.
Castiel’s eyes scanned the two men before him, and continued quietly, “I will not have the both of you arguing; it is neither the time nor place for this. If I objected to any treatment on my person, I would have stopped it myself.” Castiel’s eyes softened only slightly as he looked over to Jimmy, “It is not your job to defend me, Jimmy. I understand that you feel the need to help me, but I have been alive just as long as you, and in this situation, I do not need your assistance.”
Dean took that time to get up off of the floor, and sat on the bench seat near the heating unit. He rubbed his face; he was so tired and for reasons he couldn’t explain, and it seemed that whatever force was out there controlling things- a force that Dean didn’t and never would believe in- wasn’t through screwing around with his life. He vaguely heard the prince asking- nay, commanding- the two other men to leave the room. This time the atmosphere in the room was tense, less intimate than it was before, when it was just the two of them.
The silence after the door slid shut was deafening, save the soft sounds of Castiel dressing. Dean averted his eyes while the prince dressed, suddenly uncomfortable. He looked back at Castiel after a few minutes, sure that he was finished. Gulping, he gazed at the sight before him; it was a major turn-on for him to see the prince in his old clothing. He thought that the clothing would be too big- Dean was built differently than the slender prince- but they fit him perfectly.
The clothes were simple and well-worn, but Castiel wore them elegantly. Black, shiny boots wrapped around his calves, fitting to his feet and legs as if they were made specifically to him. Navy blue, rough-weave breeches fit snugly, but not overly tight. A white shirt was tucked neatly into the breeches, with a black jacket thrown over it, for added warmth while they were between planets. Dean looked down at his own clothing, and was amused to see that they matched, right down to the shiny boots. He wondered whether he should look into a more varied wardrobe.
“Dean.”
He looked up into Castiel’s serious face, and guessed that the time for talking was at hand. He sighed and leaned his back against the wall, “Cas.”
He saw the prince’s lip twitch at the moniker, “I thank you for the clothing.”
The smuggler shrugged, “Don’t mention it; it’s the least I could do.”
They looked away from each other, and then it was so quiet, so tense that Dean was even more uncomfortable. Dean exhaled, and asked quietly, “So who’s going to bring it up, you or me?”
He looked back to see Castiel gazing at the floor, wishing the man who look him in the eye if they were going to do this. The prince leaned against the sink, and held the edges in a loose grip, “I believe that Jimmy raised a valid point.”
“You mean about the Rebel Hunters?” Dean couldn’t honestly see where they had anything to do with what was going on between him and Castiel. Come to think of it, Dean himself didn’t really understand how he could feel so close to someone without actually spending a whole day with them, all that he did know was that he wanted to pursue that connection. He could count on one hand how many times he felt that strongly about another person and still have a few fingers left. Dean didn’t know whether that was good, or really pathetic.
“Yes,” the prince answered quietly, “I have found myself in an awkward position.” More awkward than the one we were in before? Dean thought. As he caught Castiel coloring slightly, he had a panicked thought that the other man could actually hear him just then. He breathed a sigh of relief as Castiel cleared his throat and continued, “I have an obligation to lead them- many of them are the last living survivors of Alderaan. As such, they see me as their ruler, though I have no throne to speak of.”
“So, what?” Dean asked skeptically, “They won’t want you having a bit of fun?”
“It isn’t just that,” Castiel said, “Its always important when a royal has a… a mate, if you will. The Hunters are bound to notice if we act differently to each other. Since you are an outsider, someone they had never seen in my company before, they wouldn’t trust you.”
“And why would that make a difference?” Dean shot back, “People meet each other every day, and you’d think that they would be more trusting since I liberated you from the Galactic Host.”
“Some wouldn’t see it that way. They would think…”
And here we come to the gist of it, Dean fought the urge to roll his eyes, and finally stood, getting near enough to the other man that he could see the rise and fall of Castiel’s chest, “They would think I’m working for them as a spy because I’m a smuggler, is that it?”
“In not so many words,” Castiel whispered carefully, “It would be detrimental to my leadership if they started questioning my decisions, you know that.”
“I do,” Dean agreed, but he didn’t like it any less, “I think it’s the stupidest reason not to pursue something that could turn out to be really awesome- but who am I to decide for you? If you don’t want me, then you don’t, there’s nothing I can do to change that.” He almost turned away from the prince at that, but a hand to his chest stopped him. He glanced down at it in surprise, and looked back up to see the slight distressed look in the other man’s eyes.
“It’s not that I don’t want you, Dean,” he said softly, “But you must understand how delicate this is. If anyone found out my affection for you- that information in the wrong hands could mean disaster.” Castiel’s eyes slid to the shower cubicle for a few moments, and why, Dean didn’t know. The other man was clearly troubled, and he owed it to Castiel to at least hear him out.
He brushed his hand against Castiel’s cheek, his skin rasping lightly against the stubble, “Whatever it is, tell me. I can fix it.”
Castiel leaned against that hand, and breathed, “You can’t fix this.”
To say that Dean was alarmed was an understatement, “Cas, you have to let this out. You have enough on your shoulders; let me take some of the burden.”
Castiel’s eyes were bright as they locked onto Dean’s, “The Galactic Host- Zayder- is still looking for me. They will not rest, they will cut through everything- everyone- just to find me.” He shook his head, and exhaled shakily, “Everyone I loved, everyone I cared for, has died because of Zayder. If anything were to happen to you or Jimmy, because you were close to me? I couldn’t bear that.”
So Castiel could feel what was between them just as strongly as Dean could, which made this conversation hurt all the more. He knew the prince was right, but he wouldn’t be Dean Winchester if he didn’t try to save this, “I can’t be pushed away that easy, Cas. I’m not afraid of Zayder, and I won’t be killed that easy.”
“You should be afraid of him,” Castiel warned quietly, “He is a very evil man that will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”
“So you are just going to stop him all by yourself?” Dean asked incredulously, “What about Jimmy? What about me? We can help you.”
“I will send Jimmy away, somewhere that Zayder cannot find him,” Castiel intoned, the rough voice sounded almost desperate, “And I cannot ask you to help me, this isn’t your fight.”
“Not my fight?” Dean moved back, “In case you haven’t noticed, Bobby was more than my friend, and Zayder killed him to save us. That’s more than enough reason for me to kill that asshat,” he held up a hand as Castiel opened his mouth. He understood that there was more to Bobby letting himself die than met the eye, but that didn’t make him any less angry about it. “Besides,” Dean shrugged, “That’s what Winchesters do, we save people.”
“I don’t need saving.” Castiel growled.
“Yes, you do,” Dean argued, “This little crusade you’re on? It’s going to get you killed. Sure, you can shoot TIE fighters down left and right, but that doesn’t mean that you are a warrior. At the end of all of this, you will have to fight him, and none of your training is going to help you. It's experienced warriors you are going to need and you can’t afford to push volunteers ready to help just because you’re afraid of killing people. You aren’t equipped for leadership if you are afraid that other people might end up getting hurt.”
Castiel sighed, “It seems you have an answer for everything.”
“I do,” The smuggler grinned, “As for Jimmy? It would be cruel to send him away, you know that. You are all he has left, and he’s all that you have left of family. You never, ever, abandon family. No matter what the reasoning is.”
“Then what do you propose we do?”
Dean slowly grinned as he brushed Castiel’s hair back, “I say we kiss,” he put his words into action, sealing his lips over Castiel’s. For a moment, time slowed as they slowly explored each other’s mouth, their slick tongues tangling in renewed passion. Dean sighed as he felt Castiel pulling him closer, his arms curling around his waist to lightly clutch his back. Dean pulled back a little before they would get stuck in a similar situation as before and chuckled, “And make-up.”
“What happens when we reach the base?” Castiel asked, his voice muffled as he laid his head on the smuggler’s muscled shoulder.
Dean rested his head against Castiel’s, and whispered, “They won’t have to know anything, like you said to Jimmy and Sam-this is a private thing between us. We’ll just…be very careful.”
The smuggler shuddered as he felt Castiel’s lips brush against the sensitive skin of his neck as he spoke, “This is dangerous, Dean. This could end badly.”
“It could,” Dean agreed, “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
It was unusually quiet in the cock-pit when Dean entered- after showing Castiel to passenger sleeping area- the soft beeping of the controls the only sound. Dean was brought up short in the doorway at the sight of his brother; he was facing him in his co-pilot’s chair with his arms folded across his chest, a stony look on his young features, and the older Winchester braced himself for a monumental bitch fit. He should have known that his brother was not fine with the scene in the refresher unit as he seemed to act. Dean grunted as he copied Sam’s position, only leaned against the doorframe, his face just as serious as his jaw tensed. He exhaled through his nose in sudden frustration, “What?”
Sam cocked his eyebrow, “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m standing here looking at my bitch of a brother, what’s it look like?” Dean shot back.
The younger Winchester rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean, Dean.”
Dean shook his head as he moved to sit in the captain’s chair, “It’s none of your business,” he stated through clenched teeth as he leaned into the soft leather. He stared out into the vast expanse of space through the view-screen before him, and cursed that they were still hours away from the Rebel Hunter base. He didn’t want to have yet another tense conversation with his brother; it wasn’t what either of them needed at the moment.
“Yes it is my business, Dean. We’re in this together, believe it or not.”
Dean glared, “My sex life has nothing to do with you, so stay out of it.”
Sam scoffed in disgust, “When you bring your sex life into the refresher unit, it’s hard to stay out of it.”
“Okay, so that was a mistake,” Dean admitted, “But look, it happened and it’s not like I can take it back now. I wouldn’t even if I could.”
“Can you hear yourself right now?” Sam asked incredulously, “You do understand that getting it on with a prince is stupid, right? Why would you think a prince would want to put everything on the line for-” He stopped suddenly.
“For what, Sam?” Dean asked his younger brother darkly, “For a guy like me?” Yeah, Dean knew that it probably wouldn’t work out, the man was a prince and was used to a certain lifestyle- a lifestyle in which Dean couldn’t and most likely wouldn’t try to provide.
Dean knew he was attractive, had inherited his looks from his very attractive parents, but looks could only go so far. He could get annoying; the two Winchesters had some pretty epic battles because Dean couldn’t leave well enough alone. He admitted that he had a lot of faults, and kept his life a secret from his significant others. Even with all of those reasons why they shouldn’t be together, he still wanted to try. Couldn’t Dean have something for himself, just this once? Something that didn’t have anything to do with his family or the rotten choices he’s made so far?
“That’s not what I was going to say-”
Dean sighed and roughly rubbed his face, “I don’t really care what you think about it, and didn’t I tell you that we aren’t going to talk about that?”
Sam scowled and looked away, “Fine.” He stabbed a few button and read the readouts from a small screen, “We’re six hours away from the base, so once we get there, we’ll be able to drop them off and forget this ever happened.”
Sam paused as he didn’t hear a response back from Dean, and asked quietly, “Right, Dean?”
The other Winchester shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “I was thinking…about helping them.” He owed it to them- to Bobby- to help the Rebel Hunters. If he could redeem the horrible things he had done under Alastair’s employ, and destroy the most evil force gripping the galaxy while he was at it? He would do it in a heartbeat. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to live with himself if he turned his back on Bobby’s sacrifice, if he turned his back on Castiel.
Sam slumped in his seat, “You have got to be kidding me, dude.”
“They need help, Sam-”
“This isn’t our fight, Dean!” Sam shouted, “We don’t owe them anything!”
“We may not owe them, but we owe Bobby. He gave his life-”
“He gave his life to save us, Dean,” Sam interrupted, “Not to have us go join a failed cause.”
A failed cause, that’s how Sam wanted to phrase it? The eldest Winchester shook his head in disappointment; he suddenly realized why Bobby asked Dean to see their journey through- for when the going got tough, Sam got going. It was a horrible thought to think about his brother, but Sam was never one to fight for anything except for a normal life. He couldn’t blame the younger man; after losing their mother, their father went off the deep end, taking any bounty hunting job he could find to drown himself of her memory. Since he was saddled with two children by that time, he had to cart them around as well, pulling them into his dark life.
Soon, all the boys had were each other, even after Bobby started to take care of them. Only when they were old enough to start going out on their own did they find out that John Winchester pulled some strings to send Sammy to the Academy, keeping the money in an account that they couldn’t touch until the time came. The only thing John left Dean were his weapons, his ship- the Millennium Impala- and a lifelong debt to the crime lord Alastair that Dean wasn’t sure he could ever repay. As soon as Sam was old enough, and was accepted to the Academy on Coruscant, he left without looking back… leaving Dean utterly alone. Four years had flown by, the only communication between the brothers were the occasional holo-messages spaced few and far between due to Dean’s work with Alastair.
“It’s not a failed cause, Sam. It’s what’s right.” Dean wasn’t just disappointed to hear that coming from his brother, he was also guilty. He felt guilty that by just his presence in Sam’s life, his brother started to change into a person that closely resembled their father by each passing day. He knew he should have never visited Coruscant two years ago; if he hadn’t, his brother would be happy with a steady job and his beautiful fiancé, Jessica.
Sam shook his head, “We can’t go up against the Galactic Host, Dean. They’ll kill us; all we will accomplish is to piss them off a little before they blow us up.” Sam shook his head, “No, we’re not doing this. I’m not going to watch you die just because you feel the need to help some guy you made out with in our bathroom.”
Dean made a disapproving sound in his throat, “Sam-”
“No,” Sam interrupted, “If you decide to fight, then I’m not going to be there to watch the fall out.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be then?” He honestly didn’t think that Sam would drop that ultimatum on him, he grew cold with shock. He should have known- Sam always fought dirty- he learned that from his older brother. He never thought that Sam would use the same lessons on Dean that he painstakingly taught his younger brother while they were growing up. He knew where this sudden anger came from, this desperate desire to keep his brother away from the fighting, though they never spoke of it. Sam never wanted to talk about Jessica, and Dean was loathe to bring it up, dreading what would come out of the conversation.
“Yeah,” Sam nodded, his hands clenched on the steering column, “I’m not going to lose you too, over something this reckless.”
Dean sighed as he entered his private sleeping quarters, and leaned against the door once it swooshed closed behind him. After the uncomfortable conversation with Sam, he had decided to leave the cockpit and try to get a few hours’ sleep. With his recent bouts of insomnia-let alone the day he had- he wasn’t all too sure he would be able to get any rest.
With a hopeful gaze at his bed that was built into the wall, he shrugged off his dark jacket and slumped into the steel chair next to the door. He slowly leaned down to unbuckle his boots, and afterwards unstrapped the blaster from his thigh. It was about as much as he was willing to undress while out in space, and so soon after a fight with TIE fighters. There could still be more out there, and could be tracking the Millennium Falcon at that very moment. There were too many variables out there to consider, and he had to make sure that if or when they were attacked, that he was ready.
One of those variables had to do with the two strangers that were currently dwelling in their ship. He didn’t like the thought that they would want to kill him in his sleep, but in this day and age, one cannot be too careful. Not only were the two brothers strangers to Dean and Sam, one of them was a key player in the destruction of the Galactic Host, the other- well, he could very well be a spy for the Galactic Host: Jimmy was a stranger to Dean, had lived very close to Bobby and had recently spent a significant amount of time around the older man. Dean wasn’t about to trust anyone- save his brother- no matter how friendly they seemed to be or how genuine.
He stood, rubbing the back of his neck wearily- already his mind shutting down. Dean trudged to his bed; the unstrapped blaster caged in his tightly fisted hand, and fell face first into his pillow. The blaster was shoved underneath the other pillow, aimed at the wall to make sure he didn’t accidentally blow his own head off. It was a position that came naturally to him, made it easier to fall asleep- even if it was a light doze.
All too soon, that feeling of dread that roiled through his stomach ever since entering the Morning Star came back with a vengeance. It grew colder in his room, and Dean shivered in his sleep as the first tendrils of a dream- no, a memory- came into focus.
It was a blissful, sunny afternoon; the warm sun was shining in his face as he stood in the middle of a crowded marketplace. He scanned the crowd, looking for his brother’s familiar form. A smile stretched across his tanned face as he spotted the tall man walking with a beautiful woman, and thought of how happy his little brother looked. He raised a hand, caught his brother’s attention; although it quickly faded as his brother’s face drained of all color, the red light of a blaster bolt soared over Dean’s shoulder. It struck home in the tall woman’s chest with alarming accuracy; she fell, her skin pale as a ghost’s, matching his brother’s as he stumbled to catch her.
Voices faded, the soothing sound of wind chimes near him pealed, the breeze cooling like a death chill, and the once soothing rays of the sun burned in his eyes as he raced towards his stunned brother. Glancing over his shoulder his heart seized as he recognized the armor of a strange man standing amongst the crowd. The man lowered his arm, stood to stare for one more moment, before disappearing in a blink of an eye. As he came upon the devastating scene, it seemed like Dean and his brother traded perspective. Now Dean was the one looking up at his brother, the younger man gazing down upon him in shock and remorse. He blinked, and is attention suddenly focused on the body that he was cradling with such care. His stomach dropped, for gazing up at him in such disbelief was the one person he had allowed himself to care deeply for.
Castiel.
The smuggler sat up suddenly in his bed, the sheets tangled around his form, his skin clammy with cold sweat. His muscles were shaking in panic, the dream had felt all too real, and Dean knew that the prince had become far too close for his own good. He lifted the hand that held his blaster, making a small sound of surprise as it was empty.
He didn’t have to look for it, the blaster was set upon the table beside his bed, and sitting beside him was the reason for his current state of being. The young prince was sitting primly in the steel chair, his hands resting lightly atop his thighs. Dean wanted to squirm under that guileless blue gaze, he was never a recipient of such attention before, and wasn’t used to seeing Castiel gazing at him with such openness.
Dean frowned and rubbed his face to will away the slight tremors, “Dude, you’re watching me sleep? That’s…creepy.”
“I heard you,” He said softly.
“You heard me?” Dean asked flatly, “Through the steel walls and the blast doors? I find that hard to believe.”
Castiel looked away, his eyes never blinking as he looked around the room, “I cannot explain it myself. All that I know was that I awoke to the sound of your voice. I knew that you were distressed, so I...”
“You came to see me,” he answered for the prince, almost whispering. He couldn’t explain how he felt about that, the honesty in which Castiel said it. He felt a loosening in his chest, a lightness that he hadn’t felt for a very long time. His leaned back against his headboard, and picked at his blanket, needing something to do with his hands.
Which stilled as Castiel covered one with his own. Dean looked up and their eyes caught, once again he felt that same intensity as before, only muted now. They watched each other, neither one was ready to speak, and Dean wondered just what exactly Castiel could see in his eyes. The last dregs of that dream still weighed on him, it wasn’t just what happened that bothered him; it was the switch in perspective. The dream never changed like that before; he was never one to let people get so close to him, and now that the dream had changed, he feared for Castiel’s life. Sam was right; he had to let the prince go, even though it hurt Dean to think about it.
Castiel’s brow furrowed slightly, and his head tilted to the side, “What were you dreaming about?”
He had a chance to tell him, tell the prince the truth and strengthen the bond that Dean knew had to be growing more with each passing minute in each other’s company. If he did that though, it would only hurt more once Dean left for good. So he shoved away those feeling that blossomed in his chest whenever he was near the prince, closed them off so that they wouldn’t influence him into staying, and he made his body relax. He winked at the prince, noting the confusion that suffused Castiel’s face and said, “Rats. They freak me out.”
The prince drew back, and frowned. He thought- knew- that it was something else; something that the smuggler before him was keeping secret. Why he wouldn’t tell the prince, Castiel didn’t know. A part of him questioned why Dean would ever share any confidence with the royal, they hardly knew each other, and Castiel hadn’t earned the right to ask. So Castiel watched as his hands threaded together and nodded silently, sensing that something was changing between him, and felt his shoulders tense with dread.
There was a knock at the door, and Dean sighed. Whoever it was, they were going to question why the prince was in his room, but at the moment he didn’t care. He straightened and called, “Come in.”
The door opened, and Sam frowned as he caught sight of the prince, “We’re in the Yavin system. I need Castiel’s directions to the base.”
Castiel’s eyes flicked to Dean’s, his face was shadowed as he sensed the tension between the brothers, especially in his company. He stood from his chair and turned to Dean, wanting to say something- anything- to bring back that intimacy they shared before. Because at that moment, with Sam waiting impatiently in the door, and Dean so closed off, it was starting to feel like ‘goodbye’.
A few minutes later, they approached the moon where the secret Rebel Hunter base resided. They dropped into orbit, and Dean leaned back in his seat, feeling sick at the thought of leaving them to attack the Morning Star alone. They would be better off without him- he knew- and Dean felt that by just being near him, their luck would swiftly turn bad.
He watched as the scenery changed from a starlit sky, to clouds, and then to a beautiful jungle landscape. Dean had visited many planets in his line of work, all of them ranging from a vast desert, to an endless seascape. He had to say, that it was nice to see such a lush area: it was as if he could smell the greenery, feel the moisture in the air, and the heat that would most assuredly feel stifling after a few minutes. The silvery mist gilded the gentle folds of the jungle, and shrouded the ancient temple that Castiel directed them to.
As they opened the hatch to exit the ship, they were immediately beset by the warm, humid air, the air redolent with exotic flowers. The cries of hidden creatures echoed in the open space in the clearing, their song disrupted by the roaring of a vehicle approaching the small group. Each man looked at one another, nodded, and entered the vehicle with Castiel sitting solemnly in the front. Dean shivered as they drove into the mouth of the temple, be it from the sudden cool shade or perhaps from the ominous imagery of being swallowed by darkness, it was uncertain.
The military vehicle stopped in a large room, small fighter ships ringed the area, and supplies were strewn about in relaxed clusters. The vehicle was soon surrounded by men- all of them Rebel Hunters- and only one seemed to be recognizable to Castiel. Dean knew him to be the commander of these men, he wore the stripes of a military man, and everyone seemed to answer to him. He felt a vicious stab of jealousy as the man’s face broke into a bright smile at the sight of Castiel. The smuggler looked over to see Castiel’s eyes soften, the only way the prince seemed to smile, and knew that they were friends. The older man walked over to Castiel’s door, opened it for him and gripped the prince’s offered forearm- it was a form of handshake for the Rebel Hunters.
The older man quickly pulled the prince into a one-armed hug, saying fiercely, “We thought we lost you, your highness. It is beyond well to see that you are safe.” He drew back and cleared his throat to compose himself and bowed, “When we received word about Alderaan...we feared that we had lost you along with your father. May Faith rest his soul.”
Castiel looked down for a brief moment, mourning the loss of a great man, and straightened, “Now is not the time to drown in our grief, Commander. I fear-” Castiel chanced a look to Dean, “that the Morning Star has tracked us here. It is the only way to explain the ease of our escape. To plan the attack, you must use the information stored in the R2 unit. It is our only chance.”
A few of the commander’s men retrieved BeckyD2, and led her to a closed-off area. “They are taking the droid to our war room,” the commander explained, “There it will be examined by our technicians to retrieve the plans. The men are pleased to see that you are safe- myself included. Raphael wishes to speak with you, but you clearly look in need of rest, my prince.”
Castiel nodded; the strain that he was barely keeping in check seemed to suffuse his being for a quick second before he masked it once again, “I will rest when we are not in such a weak position, commander. It is refreshing to hear that Raphael was not lost as well, I assumed that he was still grounded on Alderaan.”
The commander made a face; Raphael was not as popular with the Rebel Hunters as Castiel was. The man had a temper, and was more aloof in his regard to others. Castiel knew he could be closed off at times, but Raphael could be so unapproachable, that it came off as rude. Castiel’s father had problems with him, especially when Raphael would speak up in his own defense, unwilling to take Castiel’s direction. He was grounded from travelling as punishment for his attitude. The commander coughed delicately, “It seems that Raphael and your father reconciled before…the unfortunate events. He joined us the moment he could, about to suggest a rescue mission for you.”
Dean’s brow furrowed, that piece of information didn’t sit well with the smuggler, nor with the rest of the men gathered. To send anyone to the Morning Star was murder, they would have been killed in moments, if they were lucky. The Galactic Host was sure to recognize the colors of the Rebel Hunters, and act accordingly. Dean wanted desperately to speak up, to help their situation in some way, to warn Castiel, but one look at his brother shut him up. It seemed that their time with the Rebel Hunters, and their reluctant leader, was growing short.
Castiel nodded respectfully at the commander, his face revealing nothing, “Then it is well that he survived."
He could taste them, they were that close.
Zayder knew he shouldn’t let the impatience that was roiling through his being consume him, but they were so very close. He couldn’t wait to choke the life from the captain’s body when the Sith found him. He could just imagine the look on the prince’s face as he slowly slaughtered every single Rebel Hunter currently dwelling in the base right in front of him. He was startled out of his reverie by the sound of the intercom beeping. He turned to see Uriel’s lips thin as he pushed the button, “What is it?”
“We are approaching the planet Yavin, sir,” the tinny voice said, “the Rebel Hunter base is on the farthest moon, on the other side of the planet. We are preparing to orbit.”
Zayder turned back to the large view-screen before him and smiled once again with evil glee, “Excellent.”
The Rebel Hunters were gathered in a large room, Castiel and the other senators were sitting off to one side lining the wall. The rest of the men took up any space that they could- Jimmy was surrounded by star pilots, navigators, and droids sitting on anything they could find- with Raphael standing in all of his glory before a giant electronic wall display. Jimmy frowned; Castiel should have been up there to address the Rebel Hunters, though it seemed that due to the other man’s nature, Castiel was tossed to the side. He caught sight of the Winchester brothers near the back, next to the exit blast doors and for some reason, Jimmy had the worst feeling of apprehension than ever before. Sam leaned against the wall beside the doorway with his arms folded, while all Dean could do was slump beside him. Everyone- save the two brothers- were focused totally on Raphael and Jimmy could feel the apprehension of everyone involved.
“Good morning, gentlemen. We don’t have much time, so save the questions until after the meeting. We are gathered here for a momentous occasion, to destroy the Morning Star for good. To be able to destroy the battle station, we must learn what exactly we are up against. The Morning Star is heavily shielded, so a direct attack will be impossible,” Raphael motioned to the digital display behind him, “This battle station carries a firepower that’s greater than half of our star fleet, and we have all seen what it can do. However, since its defense is designed around a direct, large-scale assault, a small one-man fighter would be able to penetrate its outer defenses.”
Raphael nodded as a man in the front row of the group raised his hand, he would have been irritated if it was anyone other than the best fighter pilot in their fleet. The man’s uniform was mostly gold and white- the colors of the Rebel Hunter’s armada- his handle was Gold Leader, and was addressed as such by the other men. Gold leader nodded back and lowered his hand, “Permission to speak freely sir, but what is a one-man fighter against a force like that?”
“That is because the Galactic Host doesn’t consider a one-man fighter as much of a threat, or their defense would be tighter, considering both their battle station and their general security.” Raphael’s jaw tightened as he glanced at Castiel for a moment, “Our analysis of the plans provided by Prince Castiel gave us a clear view of a weakness in the Morning Star.” He laced his fingers behind his back, and walked across the display, “Our approach will not be easy.”
He stopped at the left side of the display, and the hologram shifted to display Raphael’s narration, “One fighter is to maneuver through the main trench, and skin along the surface until they reach this small area.” He gestured to a small opening along the trench, “This targeted space is about two meters wide. It is a small, thermal exhaust port, right below the main port. The shaft leads directly to the main reactor, a precise hit will start a chain reaction which will destroy the station.”
Jimmy exhaled an anxious breath, and he could feel the unease of everyone around him, the room a-buzz with tense discussion. After a few moments, all the attention drew back to Raphael, who stood beside the wall display stiffly. His pursed lips relaxed, and he spoke quietly, “Only a precise shot will set off the chain reaction, gentlemen. The shaft will be ray-shielded, so there will be need for the proton torpedoes.”
“Then it’s hopeless!” A man beside Jimmy explained, “There is no one living that could accomplish that, even if you programmed a computer.”
Jimmy snorted, the sound silencing the room as all eyes turned to the young man. Coloring slightly, Jimmy went on to explain, “It’s not exactly that hard, my uncle and I used to bulls eye womp rats near the homestead. There weren’t that much bigger than two meters.”
It was so quiet in their war room that Jimmy grew uncomfortable really quick, and all the men were staring at him. Dean winked at him from the doorway, Castiel’s face relaxed, but Raphael on the other hand- he seemed to be almost glaring at Jimmy. The man paused as he gazed over the assembled men; everyone could feel that this could be their last mission- that they would not survive this time. It had a sobering effect on the crowd, but Jimmy knew that these were the type of people that will never turn back, no matter what the cost. Raphael nodded, “To your ships, and may faith go with you.”
The Morning Star moved steadily closer to the moon base; Zayder was caught between that moment of triumph and the sobering moments of caution before battle. He was a realist, no matter what accomplishments the Galactic Host made; there was always a chance that this time they could be defeated. He had a plan if the Morning Star failed- Zayder was a survivalist at heart- and would implement that very strategy if all else failed. He would join the garrison when they fought the Rebel Hunters- entertaining nostalgic memories, yes- and will show the Rebel Hunters the power of the Galactic Host.
He heard the voice on the intercom alert them, “We are orbiting the planet Yavin at maximum velocity, Commander. The Rebel hunter base will be in sight within thirty minutes.”
“This day is going to go down in the holocrons. We have seen the end of Robert Singer, and will witness the destruction of the Rebel Hunters,” Zayder inhaled, and slapped a hand on Uriel’s shoulder; he was feeling positively giddy with excitement for the battle, “Drink it in, Uriel.”
Jimmy stood from his chair to leave with the other men, searching the room for any sight of the Winchesters. His stomach dropped as he couldn’t find them, though why it did he wasn’t sure; he knew that they were around somewhere, it wasn’t like they would leave without saying goodbye- at least he didn’t think they would.
His brow furrowed, he had to find them and make sure they weren’t about to do something foolish. He was stopped by a hand on his arm, his gaze locked with Castiel’s, “I need to find them, Cas. I have a bad feeling.”
Castiel gazed at him in all seriousness, and nodded, “Then I shall trust your judgment. We will find them.”
They left the room, and searched the hangar for any sign of either the two brothers or the Millennium Impala. It took only a few minutes, and Jimmy’s bad feeling tripled when he saw the two brothers set apart from the rest of the pilots. The Rebel Hunters were making the last minute checks on the X-wings: making sure everything was in working order before setting out on their mission. The two brothers however, were doing no such thing, much to Jimmy’s disappointment. Dean’s back was to them, while Sam scurried around the area to check for any last-minute repairs they could do. They were surrounded by large canisters, obviously the reward that Raphael gave for the rescue of their prince.
Jimmy stopped suddenly in shock, oblivious to the other men forced to move around him, “What are you doing?”
Dean froze momentarily, up until now he was focused on just getting the money into the ship, and only then would he think of a way to leave without causing any grief. It seemed as though his plans weren’t going the way he wanted them to today. His eyes closed for a moment, taken aback at the amount of betrayal in Jimmy’s voice. They would be better off without him around- he just had to keep reminding himself of that. He forced his voice to harden, and kept his back to him, “Exactly what it looks like, we’re leaving.”
Jimmy frowned, “So that’s it? You get your reward and…you’re done?”
Sam walked up to the group when he heard Jimmy’s voice, it was his idea to leave, so he wasn’t about to let his brother handle the consequences of his decision. He stopped at the other side of the large canister that Dean was securing, and felt a little guilty at seeing the clenched look on Dean’s face. Sam sighed, “It’s not just that Jimmy-”
“No, it’s exactly that,” Dean interrupted harshly; his frustration was echoed by his actions as he viciously jerked the straps that held the canisters to the loading decks they were resting on, “I have debts that I need to pay off using this money.”
“How much?”
Dean’s stomach dropped as he heard Castiel’s quiet voice- he wasn’t expecting him to be standing there with his twin. He turned around slowly, and felt worse when he caught sight of Castiel’s cold expression, “Cas…” Please don’t do this, Dean thought.
“How much did you receive for my rescue?” Castiel asked again doggedly.
Dean struggled with the answer, knowing full well that money wasn’t the only thing Castiel was asking about. He knew full well that it made Dean look like such a cad, taking the money and leaving after what they shared together. He really needed the money, to save not only his own life- but his brother’s. He had to leave, and not just because his brother threatened to leave without him. Really, if Dean was being honest with himself, it all came down to one thing.
Fear.
Dean was afraid of losing not only his brother, but was afraid of losing Castiel as well. The prince managed to break through every barrier that Dean erected, the smuggler had revealed so much of himself to Castiel- too much, he believed- that if he stayed, the young man would end up killed. Or worse. So it came down to one thing: hurt the prince so effectively that the prince wouldn’t try to make him stay- because if the prince asked him anything, Dean would so it.
Dean looked him in the eye and bit out, “One hundred thousand credits; give or take.”
Castiel nodded slowly, looking away for a moment before facing him again. His face was frozen, but his eyes- Oh god, his eyes, Dean thought- were shattered, “I see. I hope it was worth it.”
Dean swallowed thickly, and said quietly, “It was worth it, but even if I didn’t get the money, I wouldn’t stay.” He looked away as his voice cracked, he wished he didn’t have to do this but with one look at his brother he continued, “Going up against the Morning Star is suicide and you know it, Cas. You won’t be coming back from this.”
Jimmy shook his head, “I never thought that you of all people would say that, Dean. You know what happened there, to all of us. Bobby. Don’t turn your back on us now, we need you.”
Dean looked at Sam, practically begging him with his eyes, hoping against hope that this confrontation would sway him. Sam turned away, giving Dean his answer without saying a damn thing. Fuck it, Dean thought acidly, he was a grown man and able to make his own damned decisions. If Sam wanted to leave, then he was going to try his damndest to get Jimmy and Castiel to come with them.
Dean stepped closer to the twins, “Come with us. You’re only going to end up dead.”
Dean stumbled back as suddenly Castiel was in his face, his blue eyes alight with anger as he whispered, “These are my people- it is my duty to the Rebel Hunters that I fight with them and for them. I would rather die for something that I believe in, than to run away like a coward.” The prince gazed into Dean’s eyes for the final time; either to drive his point home, or to memorize each unique feature, the prince didn’t know or care. He moved back; suddenly weary of the drama that had ensued, “Come, Jimmy. The Rebel Hunters need our help, let’s not disappoint them.”
Jimmy slowly turned away and walked towards the ships getting ready for departure. Castiel strayed behind, saying quietly, “I should have known better than to put my trust in you.”
Dean’s shoulders slumped as he watched the prince walk away, his heart growing heavy with each retreating step. Dean had to watch a number of people and opportunities walk away from him, simply because he was either trying to make his father or his brother happy. Once again, his brother won, and Dean hurt someone that he was connecting so strongly with. He stiffened when he felt his brother’s large hand on his shoulder; he turned to him and shrugged his hand off roughly, “Don’t try to act like you feel bad for me, dude. You won.” With that, he roughly brushed past his brother and retreated into the Millennium Impala.
“That lying, cowardly, son-of-a-bitch!” Jimmy raged.
Castiel sighed, letting go of his anger while talking to Dean and Sam was probably the worst thing to do around Jimmy. He regretted the whole conversation, knowing full well that he should have tried to see things from Dean’s point of view. In hindsight the man looked defeated and scared; Castiel should have tried to get to the truth of the matter instead of focusing on his own problems. Some rational negotiator he turned out to be, the one time he could have used his skills to dissolve the argument he threw it all away by letting his emotions get the better of him.
He had to set everything aside for now, and examine all of these issues when he had the luxury to think for a few moments. Preferably when the Morning Star was destroyed and they weren’t in constant peril. “He had to choose his own path, Jimmy.” Castiel said quietly, “We cannot choose it for him, no matter how much we want to.”
Jimmy nodded in agreement, “You’re right. I wish Bobby was here, I doubt he would let Dean and Sam leave.” Jimmy looked over at his twin as he was checking over the X-wing beside his, “Uh, what are you doing?”
“I’m going to help in the battle, I thought that was obvious.”
“Like Hell you are!” Jimmy exclaimed. He ducked his head, embarrassed by all of the attention his outburst caused.
Castiel frowned, “I will not stand by and let other’s fight in my stead.”
“But-”
“No,” Castiel interrupted, “If you go, then so shall I. If we are to die, then we will die together. I am going with you, and that is final.” The two brothers shared a soulful look, believing that it would be the last time that they saw each other. Two steps closer and they were gripping each other’s forearms tightly, smiling tightly before breaking away. They climbed the ladders into their respective ships, and Jimmy gave Castiel a quick ‘thumbs up’. His brother gave him a curious look before giving him the same signal, albeit uncertainly.
Jimmy settled back into his pilot’s chair, tugged on his flight helmet, and gripped the steering column in a sweaty grip. He could hear the voices of the scattered crewmen, the navigators, and the other pilots babbling over each other in his headphones. Everyone was filled with nervous energy, excitement, and trepidation for what they were about to possibly accomplish. Jimmy was anxious, but the feelings were mixed with fear and doubt rather than excitement. It was true that he was growing bored with the hydro-farm, and wished for something more out of his life, but was this really it? They were going up against something so huge- so frightening- that Jimmy was starting to nervously feel as if he had bitten off more than he could chew.
He looked up through the wind-shield and was surprised to see Chuck3PO standing at the side of his ship, talking to BeckyD2. It may have just been Jimmy’s paranoia about the coming battle wreaking havoc on his mind, but he could have sworn that the droid looked… anxious? He shook his head in amusement- he was letting his mind play tricks on him.
“Be careful Becky,” Chuck3PO said seriously, “You’ve got to come back.”
She beeped at him softly in reply and Chuck3PO laughed quietly to himself, “You wouldn’t want my life to get boring, now do you?” She whistled at him as the chief crewman directed the robot away, waving a signal to the other crewmen to finish their last adjustments.
The cockpit shield rolled smoothly into place over Jimmy’s head, the fueling hose disengaged and he heard the roar of the other engines as they were revving for action. Jimmy wished fervently that Dean was coming with them, that he had changed his mind, hoping against all hope that they weren’t going to all die before he had a chance to at least punch the man for abandoning them. Jimmy let out a nervous breath through his nose as a man directed the ships to lift off with red signaling lights- it was now, or never.
Just before he maneuvered his ship in position, he heard a familiar voice say, “Jimmy, Faith goes with you.” He shook his head and tapped his headphones to make sure he wasn’t picking up some strange feed, and wondered if now was the best time for him to go crazy.
Chapter Six