The Dangers of Intimacy prologue
Title: The Dangers of Intimacy
Author: aquariell
Artist:threnodyjones
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. This is just for fun
Genre/Pairing: (slash, angst, romance, gen) romance Gabriel/Dean
Rating: R
Word count:15,109
Warnings/Spoilers: violence; possible spoilers for season 5
Summary:When Dean starts behaving strangely Cas and Sam have no choice but to ask Gabriel for help. then to make matters worse it turns out the demons are up to something. Something that could start the apocalypse all over again. And Dean is the key to it all.
Link to art: threnodyjones.livejournal.com/198851.html
A/N:Hey guys! This is my first big bang fic so I'm super excited! Many many thanks to my awesome sister for the Beta and to my absolutely incredable artist threnodyjones. Seriously guys, she went above and beyond the call of duty. If you haven't checked out her gorgeous work yet what the hell are you waiting for? The link is above. Run don't walk.
The Dangers of Intimacy
It started small. Little changes, things that, taken alone, Sam might’ve ignored as insignificant. In fact it’s a good two weeks before Sam started putting the different occurrences together.
Dean staring lecherously at women, which normally wouldn’t be odd but it’s the way he’s doing it. It’s really creepy. And he didn’t used to be obvious about it.
His temper is shorter and he’s drinking more and a few days ago Sam saw him smoking. Dean hasn’t smoked since he was fifteen and even then he was never really serious about it. And then there are the dreams. Dean’s nightmares have gotten worse or changed somehow. He wakes up from them thrashing and screaming with a haunted expression that takes hours to fade.
So when Sam finally snaps and throws holy water in his brother’s face he feels pretty damn justified, thanks. Dean yelps, sputters, and gives Sam a look that could melt steel.
“What the hell, man?” Dean asks angrily. He walks to the bathroom before Sam can answer, and dries his face.
“C’mon, Dean. You have to admit you’ve been acting weird.”
Dean spins on him. “Ever think of asking me if something’s wrong?”
“Okay. What’s wrong?”
The glare is back.
“Nothing.” Dean’s tone is scathing and there’s something in his eyes. Something cold and dark, that chills Sam’s blood. “Get out of my way, Sam,” he says, slowly. Sam realizes he’s blocking the way out of the bathroom and quickly moves. For the first time in his life, he’s afraid of his brother.
Dean scowls at nothing. He’s alone in yet another ugly ass motel room. Sam is at the library ostensibly doing ‘research’ but Dean knows his brother’s avoiding him. Well, good riddance. He’s been pissing Dean off. Granted everything’s been pissing Dean off lately.
Deep down Dean knows something’s wrong. He’s always cold, always angry. And then there are the dreams. Dean’s been dreaming of Hell since he got back, but these are different. And he’s not dreaming about Cas saving him anymore. He used to love those dreams. They were his only memory of Cas as opposed to Cas-in-Jimmy. No, now he’s dreaming about Hell itself and they’re not nightmares. He’s enjoying them. Which he knows one some level is crazy kinds of sick, but he just can’t bring himself to care.
So, Dean knows something’s wrong but he doesn’t know what and that’s just another thing adding to the storm of frustration and anger swimming around in his head.
Dean smiles a little as he hears the noises from next door pick up again, the expression feeling foreign on his face after so long scowling.
The couple staying there is going at it again. They’re like bunnies really. Dean can understand why, the woman’s pretty hot. He spares a moment to wonder what she’d look like covered in blood. He licks his lips at the image. It’s the first thing to make him smile in days. And again some small part of him cringes at that. Asks him what the hell is wrong with him, that he’s thinking like that, but he squashes it down. Can’t be bothered with it.
He’s broken out of his musings when Sam walks in and turns on the light. He makes a noise of pain at the sudden transition from dark to brightness.
“Dude. Tell me you did not sit in the dark the whole time I was gone.” Sam says as he takes off his coat.
“What does it matter?” Dean asks testily, taking a long drink from the whiskey bottle in his hand.
“Well, that’s not exactly a healthy way to spend your night.” Dean turns a glare on his brother.
“How about you mind your own damn business, Sam?”
“Man, what is wrong with you?”
Heh. Good question. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The hell you don’t. You’re drinking more, you’re barely eating, and you’re pissier than usual, ” Sam says.
Dean stands up and goes to the dresser grabbing his keys. Closes his eyes and imagines all the damage he could do with them. All the ways he could shut Sam up.
“Dean? C’mon, man, talk to me.”
Dean laughs.
“Yeah, ‘cause that’s your answer to everything isn’t it, Sam. Talk to me, Dean. Come cry on my shoulder, Dean,” he mocks. “Well I don’t need your damn shoulder, Sam. I’m fine.” He stalks to the door and Sam grabs his arm, spinning him around, face full of concern.
“You can’t drive like this.”
“Let go, Sam.” Dean says calmly, angry fire in his eyes. He shifts his hold on the keys and Sam’s eyes light up with fear for a moment and he moves back. Dean smirks.
Sam flinches when the door slams shut. Something is seriously wrong.
“Cas? Hey, Cas it’s Sam.” Freaking voicemail. “Look, I need your help. I know you’re busy cleaning up heaven and everything but there’s something wrong with Dean. Like really wrong. Just call me back when you get this, okay? Bye.” Sam sighs as he hangs up. He doesn’t know what to do. Dean just keeps getting worse and there’s no explanation. They haven’t had any run-ins with witches in forever, so it’s not a spell or a curse. He’s not possessed, heck they haven’t heard anything from the demon’s since they put Lucifer back in the box, and Sam is really getting freaked out.
He actually jumps when his phone rings. He checks the number and picks up fast when he sees it’s Cas.
“Hey! That was fast.”
“Where are you?” comes Cas’ serious voice from the other end. Ok straight to business then.
“The Pines Motel in Wisconsin. Room 8.” There’s a soft noise of wings and Cas is in front of him.
“What’s wrong?” Cas’ face is full of concern and Sam spares a moment to be grateful that Cas cares so much. The angel’s done a lot for them, it’s easy sometimes for Sam to forget how much, and he never complains when they ask for more.
“I’m not sure. He’s just… he’s been acting really weird. He’s drinking more and he’s always pissed. Cas, we had a little argument today and I’m pretty sure he came this close to stabbing me with the car keys.” Sam raises his hand holding up two fingers about a half-inch apart.
“Are you sure?” Castiel asks, and Sam nods. “Where is he now?”
“Went for a drive. About a half hour ago.”
Cas nods determinedly. “Alright. I’ll wait here until he comes back.” He sits down on the side of dean’s bed, facing the door.
“You’re just… gonna sit there then?”
“Yes.”
Sam blinks, shakes his head, and takes out his computer.
Dean comes back around an hour later. He takes one look at Cas, smirks weirdly and walks over to the bottle he left on the table. Cas is staring at him like he doesn’t even recognize him, and that’s even scarier than the way Dean’s acting.
“Are you ever sober anymore?” Sam asks bitterly as Dean drinks.
“Sam.” Cas grabs his arm and Sam takes that as a command for silence. Cas moves slowly closer to Dean.
“Dean?” Dean makes a face that looks he’s considering.
“Mmm… yes and no. I am still Dean in a way, but you can call me Casimir. I prefer that.” He smirks again. “Forty years in Hell, Cas. Did you really think you could just wave your hand and make that go away?” Cas’ expression crumbles.
“I’m sorry, Dean.”
“ Casimir. Try to pay attention. And why? I’m not.” Dean takes another swig. “I’m not scared anymore, Cas. That big huge weight that parked itself on my shoulders? It’s gone. I don’t have to be afraid of anything anymore. And you know why? Cause I’m the scariest thing in this room.”
“Are you?” Cas says threateningly. Dean scoffs moving to stand, equally threateningly, in front of Cas so that they’re scant inches apart.
“What? Are you gonna fight me, Feathers? Is that it?” Dean’s voice is dry and mocking. Cas moves incredibly fast backing Dean against the wall, grabbing the demon-killing knife from… somewhere, and holding it to Dean’s throat.
Sam is, at this point, very quietly and unobtrusively freaking the fuck out.
“Or maybe I’ll just kill you.” Cas says.
Dean laughs like he’s enjoying this.
“Oh, I don’t think you will. See, you have this weakness, Feathers. You like me. You want to save me.” Cas growls and takes the knife away from his throat. Sam thinks for a moment that Cas is just going to let him go but then the angel bashes his brother over the head, catching him as he falls, unconscious.
“What the hell, Cas?” Sam yells. “Why didn’t you just put him to sleep?”
“I don’t have enough control for this. If I touch him with my Grace right now, he’ll die.” Cas responds as he carries Dean to the bed and settles him.
“What? What’s wrong with him?” Sam asks.
“Rope.”
“What?”
Cas gives Sam an exasperated look. “We need to tie him down.”
“Oh, rope. Right.” Sam grabs some from their bags, and they tie Dean down on the bed, hands tethered to the headboard, feet to the footboard.
“What’s wrong with him, Cas?” Sam asks again when they’re done. Cas pauses at the head of the bed. He gently runs a hand through Dean’s hair
“ I will answer all of your questions when I return, Sam,” Cas says.
“What? Hey, no, wait! Return from where?”
“I must find help.” He disappears and Sam is left alone in the motel room with Dean. He sighs.
He’ll just wait here then.