Title: Little Big Things (5/10)
Characters: Dean,Cas, Sam
Rating: PG
Summary: Man's best friend
Chapter 5
Sam wakes up to a round of rapid dialogue and something hard pinging against the trash can. The entire ruckus is occurring outside and as he glances at the clock, he can't help but groan because really three in the morning. What type of person has a lover's spat at such an ungodly hour?
"Dean," he moans, tugging the blanket over his head and shuffling deeper into his pillow.
If he has to suffer than so does his brother. The older Winchester is right next to the window, so he's got to be awake. But there's no response. Lifting his head, Sam bleary gazes over to the barely ruffled bed. Eyes narrowing, he hears a pair of choice words that makes him realize that it's Dean standing outside. Pushing himself off the bed, Sam shuffles over to the door, ready to throw it wide open and chew out his brother. Then the gruff tone of a certain angel, whose voice is strained and sounding like a shot in the dark in its abruptness makes him pause in the doorway. Whatever is going on even has Cas on edge.
There's heavy stomping and Sam barely has time to dodge right when the door flies open. A thundercloud of disappointment pours into the room as Dean tromps by him. "What the hell?" As Dean turns into the kitchnette, the faucet exploding at full power, Sam peers outside to find an empty parking lot. "Dean, what's going on?"
"Anna, that's what is going on," grumbles out a response.
Sam spins, head whiplashing upwards. "Anna?" Surprise blasts away any future plans of sleep. "Where has she been?"
Dean splashes ice-cold water onto his face, muttering. "Heaven."
"Heaven? She got caught? Is she okay?"
"Sam! Enough with the twenty questions!" Dean's short temper paints a vivid picture of a very large iceberg.
Sam closes the front door quietly. Behind, Dean pivots and throws the towel hard into the sink as he staggers over to his bed. Sitting on the edge, he bows his body, cradling his face in his palms, voice low and quiet. "Cas turned Anna in."
"What?" Sam dashes to his own bed, ears ringing hard. "I-that doesn't fit Cas at all."
"It happened some time while you were in... Cas said he was being watched and couldn't do anything when Anna appeared. He said that he tried to warn her but it was too late." Dean voice is wrecked, the new information shifting their entire perception of the angel. It's makes them wonder.
"You don't think..." Sam whispers, not wanting to bring it up.
"It fits doesn't it. I mean I always had my suspicions, if not him than some other angel. And Cas was already there."
The deafening silence wounds the brothers more than anything. It brings an unpleasant thought of how much Cas is hiding from them, not telling them. Then again, Sam counters, they never really asked Cas about his past or Anna. Then again, Cas had bluntly pointed out it was their-his fault for giving up and starting the Apocaplyse. But, now in spending so much time with the angel, Sam can see another reason why Cas is so driven to win this war.
Sam ponders, the doubt festering and dying in a vicious loop. He glances up at Dean ready to see the disappointment and shattered friendship in ruins at their feet. "Dean, I'm sorry. I know you were close with Anna and now with Cas..."
"He's so much like a Winchester it's getting a bit ridiculous." Dean's voice is soft and a hint of understanding. Those pained green eyes look up at him, a little thing shining more outright and open than all the others. "It's funny but I still trust Cas, Sam...enough to wait it out even if I'm against it."
Sam swallows, wondering where this level of trust and loyalty comes from.
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Dean groans as he pushes himself behind a large pyramid of canned corn. Outside, the massive riot continues to erupt, flashes of light and screeches rattling the broken doorframes. The hunter tries to recall how a simple supply run to the local grocery store has turned into a battleground for angels and demons. He swears one minute he was trying to decide whether he wanted apple or pumpkin pie when the windows shattered, raining glass everywhere. Another blast later, and half the customers were blinking black eyes as they rushed out, to meet the angels head on. The rest of the normal humans scattered screaming and slamming into each other in the confusion. Dean had gotten pushed hard into the broken meat deli glass, slicing his thigh.
Now, here he is, hobbling over to the first-aid aisle with one measly pistol and knife in his pants. The remains of the grocery store rattles, debris coughing up in the air. He swears he even hears the barking of hell hounds. Thankfully though there are two good things. One, Cas actually had his phone on this time and was in the country so hello quick back-up. Secondly, he decided to keep the Impala parked a few blocks down in the public parking lot as he cruised the town.
Thank God for small miracles like that. Except, Cas not popping in is getting a bit ridiculous. He called five minutes ago. Another large blast drowns the hunter in a sea of metal cans. "Shit," Dean curses as a can hits in him hard on his back. Grunting, he fights to maintain a tight hold on the small towel pressed hard against his bleeding wound. Limping forward, leaving a bloody trail, he finally turns the corner, right into the face of demon.
The butcher is a typical burly of a man with a huge, white mustache. Black eyes blinking, he smirks widely as four other goons appear behind him. But that isn't what freaks Dean out. Nope, it's the snarling of an invisible beast behind the meat counter, munching away on a few bystanders.
Mustering up a smirk, Dean says, "Hi," before a meaty fist slams him into a row of boxed noodles. Shaking his head, Dean tries to reach for the knife but a flash of tan appears and the butcher man blazes out of existence. Spitting out a mouth full of blood, Dean snaps at the new player, "Your timing sucks."
Cas merely sends a quick glare over his shoulder before the other four pounce. Cas sends a hard punch into one demon sending him crashing into the ground. One from the left, Cas lands his hand on the demon's forehead burning the demon out, while another slams a punch hard into Cas's gut. The forth is bouncing, grinning as he eyes Dean, knowing full well who he has in his sights.
Dean pushes himself away from the shelves, throwing himself at the forth, slamming the knife home. He watches with a dark satisfaction as the demon squirms while it heaves out its last breaths. Yanking out the knife, he slices at the throat of the demon whom Cas had punched. As the light sputters, body falling to the ground, there's a loud crashing and Dean remembers the true threat. "HELLHOUND!"
If Cas hears him, he doesn't know. Cas's eyes narrow into slits, a deadly calm radiating out of him. Twisting the demon whose attached to his chest, the angel sends him crashing into a new group of demons that are charging down the meat aisle. The move takes out three demons, the others pushing their way through the mess. Dean wrestles the first one while he sees in his peripheral Cas throwing out his hand, a very high-pitch whine crackling pieces of glass into fine dust. Kicking away the demon, the hunter automatically goes to cover his ears, watching with squinting eyes as a bright light fills the room. Shadows of a massive disfigured body of a hound pounces, long claws ripping through Cas's arm.
An angelic yelp makes Dean throw himself hard against the floor, the tile floor exploding into shards at the new decimal. The demons wail and crouch themselves onto the ground. As the sound becomes to unbearable, blood trickling out of his ears, Dean feels the pain numbing away as his eyes adjust to the brightness. He swears he can see for a split second the crackle of lighting whip at the hound, knocking the dog away. The buzzing fizzling out, he hears Cas finish the incantation with a twirl and a jab downwards, he stabs the hellhound through the base of the skull and spine with his sword. Dust rises as the corpse falls with a thud. Cas pulls his knife free, not even flinching as blood pours down his fingers from the ravaged claw marks. The angel merely shifts his shoulders, hides his sword once more eying the new situation of the grumbling demons a few feet away.
Sound and light returning to normal, Dean staggers unbalanced back to his feet, shaking his head clear of the ringing. He's seen Cas in action barely a handful of times and the poor guy got his butt handed to him, except when fighting those other dick angels. But this, Dean can't help but notice that this was Cas' natural element, what he's meant to do. Fighting demons with a gracefulness and determination that Dean knows all too well. He truly understands the feeling of awe and terror, the Bible hints at when writing about these creatures.
There's a crashing sound off to his left as a demon pulls herself off the floor. The two barely glance at each before sliding into each other's space, Cas lightly pushing Dean down the row, stopping a demon's punch. With a twist, the demon's wrist snaps and in a blink is burned out of existence. Dean spots another round of demons coming from the front of store. Reaching out, he grabs the angel's coat, pulling him towards him as he slices at another recovering demon. Adrenaline pumping, the pain in his leg oblivious, he protects Cas's flank, while the angel is cutting a path, both chanting exocerisms after exorcisms. It's a teamwork Dean only ever experienced with Sam and his dad.
Falling into a tempo, Dean realizes Cas is leading them to the back door. "Really?" he grunts out as he punches away the last demon from group two, three closing in fast eager to take out the injured angel while a smaller group four runs in from the another direction.
Cas slashes his hand in the air and an entire wall collpases down onto the group four. "I had to walk in and we will have to do the same thing, unless you wish to finally meet Michael."
"No," A final stab into the back of the demon, "I'm good." In a flash, Dean finds himself skidding the rest of the way from a harsh final kick. Then Cas is in front of him, swiping blood from his bleeding arm. Kneeling, he begins to paint some strange symbol as Dean tightens his grip on the knife, listening and watching as demons crawl from underneat the rubble of the shelves. Cas closes his eyes, fingers hovering over the sigil, the remaining demons freezing in their place. It only takes a few seconds before light blazes behind the possessed eyes ending the fight for now. With a sigh, Cas rests his palms on the dried sigil at the same time the deadly bodies collapse onto the floor.
Dean pats Cas on the shoulder, "Couldn't have done that earlier?"
"It will buy us time with the demons, but it might have attracted the angels." Cas grunts, face flashing in a grimace, fingers on his mangled arm spasming.
Dean jerks forward, glancing down at the wound, where he spots hints of the white gleam of bone. "You okay?"
"Fine, just merely..."
"Spell took a bit out of you?"
"As did the hound."
Dean lets out a tight laugh, "Now you develop humor." Bending, he grabs Cas's arm and gently leads them both up onto their feet. "That's better."
Then Cas surprises him, bending himself slightly under Dean's arm, making the hunter lean on him while his injured arm is cradled at his open side.
"Dude, what did I say-"
"I am not the only one bleeding profusely." Right when those words leave the angel's mouth, Dean feels the burning throb of his leg and bits back a hiss of pain, Cas's uninjured hand curling in to hold him up.
"Right."
With that, Cas leads them out the back door, his eyes scanning every direction. Dean can't help but think that the body next to his should be larger, taller and slightly more bulker. That the thick padding of a Carhart jacket and long hair should be brushing against the side of his face. It should be Sam at his side. Yet, Cas's slightly smaller but equal frame is a comforting difference. And despite being slimmer, the strength emitting from the sure grip enforces that it is okay for Dean to give into this.
And as they stagger into the back ally, Dean wants to joke about if Cas had a nice fall, when he senses the man's whole entire body tense freezing them in their spot. Turning his head slowly to look forward, Dean locks his gaze on what Cas truly was keeping an eye out for, his fear manifesting itself in an angel blocking one end of ally, standing quietly next to the dumpster.
Dean growls, already bracing himself for the free-fall that he's asking for, "Cas, do it, just fly us out of here."
"If I do that, with you no less, it will be easier for them to capture us. I will have to do several jumps to loose them. I highly doubt your bowel movements will agree with you afterwards."
"Shut up."
The angel steps forward, the shadows deepening the stricken look on his face. The man is deeply tanned, his brown hair streaked blond, complimenting the loose white blouse and black pants. Pale green eyes glance up and down, as the sword swings numbly from his calloused fingers. On the other side of the store and throughout town, the battle continues to rage on.
"Castiel." The angel's voice rumbles like distant thunder.
"Fasiel." Cas breaks slightly away enough for him to summon his own sword to his shaking hand.
Absolution is flat and unforgiving, "You shouldn't have come."
"I had too."
"Because Dean called for you? Have you fallen so low that you are now his lapdog?" There's almost a curl to Fasiel's lip as he spits out the last word.
Dean wants to protest but Cas's other hand nudges slightly against his jacket, silencing him. This isn't like dealing with Raphael, no protective ring of holy oil. And while there seemed to be some resemblance of recognition with Raphael in terms of hunter and hunted, Dean can feel that these two truly know each other.
Cas leans forward, his face falling still, blue eyes drowning in sorrow, "I do not wish to kill you."
"Is that what you said to Uriel before he died and all the other brothers and sisters that have stood in your way?"
"Anna did the deed," whispers the black haired angel.
"Right, Anna," Fasiel tilts his head and takes as step forward, "I must ask do you think about her often?"
Dean wants to know what the heck does that statement mean because a flash of utter guilt darkens Cas's face before masking into a neutral expression of no hope and numbness.
"Let us go, Fasiel," presses Cas as he totally leaves Dean's side to step in front of him, shoulders straight and body posed ready to defend. The soldier is back.
Fasiel watches with narrowed eyes at the new position. Dean readies himself for another fight, when the green-eyed angel throws his sword into the dumpster, raising his hands in surrender. "You haven't changed, Castiel, no matter what our superiors tell us."
Confusion and disbelief tighten both Dean and Cas's face in unison. But it is Dean who voices, "What?"
"There is only the four of us left now. When you rebelled, the rest of us are tested daily, kept under survelliance. Our superiors fear that whatever made you side with Dean, that it must within us as well." Fasiel glances over at Dean. "We do what is asked of us, but we know something is wrong. It is not in your nature to make such foolish choices, not after everything." Then Fasiel smiles warmly, that light reflecting in his face and Dean knows instantly that this angel isn't like the other dicks. In fact, he swears that thin smile and eyes the color of moss feels familiar, like he's seen them before.
"Besides, Father brought you back so that has to mean something, no?"
The light tone is like a switch. Castiel's shoulders sag, the sword vanishing while Dean feels the wave of relief. "Thank you."
Fasiel nods. Dean shakes his head, feeling he's intruding on something. "Well thanks for free the 'get of jail' card, can we go now."
The other angel chuckles, locking his warm eyes on Dean. "Still very much a loud mouth, Dean Winchester." Dean can't help but cock his head in confusion, that nagging familiarty in full force, "There were times when we were fleeing the Pit when I wanted to knock you unconscious. But the rest of us feared that maybe you wouldn't wake up then. That and Cas was a bit possessive of you, glad to see that hasn't changed."
Cas turns to glance at Dean, taking in the full blown face of realization. Wide green eyes blink towards blue and Cas nods in confirmation. Here was another angel that had helped Cas raise him from Perdition, who had seen what he had done and wasn't at all acting like the other selfish pricks. A loud blast sounds from inside the store, all three locking onto the building.
Fasiel turns to spare a glance at them. "We...I could use your help, Castiel." The unspoken words Come back echoes off the flaking walls.
Dean doesn't want to confess it, but a tiny part of him finds himself scared at the prospect. He wants to keep Cas but another part says that it would be best because that would mean more allies on their side. And God knows, how badly they need another person or an army at least. Lastly, Dean knows it would make Cas happy because he can see the longing clearly written on the angel's face. He wants to go home.
Cas shakes his head, shoulders tilting inwards. "I'm sorry Fasiel, but my place is here." The loyalty of an angel picking Dean over his own family once again, of turning down the chance to rejoin, to decide to protect him over leaving Dean here and fight a battle through the town makes Dean sick. He didn't ask for this and yet here it is in his hands, this newborn bond growing more profound. It scares him to death, the only other time feeling this way was when Dad put Sam when he was baby in his little arms and told him to run out of the burning house.
A crash from behind knocks the hunter out of his thoughts. He watches as Fasiel's face widens and doesn't need to see to know there's a pack of hounds. He can smell their stench and hear their growls and snaps. In a blink, Fasiel's right in front of them as the hounds come barging in. "Then God be with you."
Fasiel places his fingers on both their foreheads and sends them flying. The last thing Dean remembers is Cas's hold returning tightly on him. But the scream ripping out is anything but pure grief as the hounds tear apart the bright grace of another angel that dared to save Dean Winchester.
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Sam stands in the bathroom, his hand on the knob on a barely open when he hears a private conversation occuring in soft tones. Curosity holding him, Sam watches through the reflection on the mirror as Cas ties on his shoes. The angel only woke up from his return trip back to the present an hour ago. There was uneasiness but when Cas had spoken of Anna's plan and then said that the trip would weaken him, only to mean that he could have died, the doubt burned away and he's glad Dean's trust was not misplaced. His brother was right. Despite some poor decisions, the angel is fighting for them, a part of Team Free Will.
"Cas, just stay awhile okay, you gave me and Sam a bit of a panic attack when you fainted back there and here too." Sam can't see Dean, his brother posed outside his position, but the worried tone is clear enough.
"And thank you once again for letting me rest," Cas is speaking in a clipped tone, hinting that he is uncomfortable, "The honeymoon suite was very...well equipped."
There's the springing of the mattress. "Look...about Anna..."
"It is her fault she went after Michael's vessels. Her death was inevitable." Talk about trying to reason out one's guilt over a situation, Sam thinks as he watches a coldness enter Cas's eyes. He can't help but wonder if this was how Cas had tried to overcome his actions in what lead Anna to go all Terminator.
"Cas, I highly doubt you forced Anna to think about going into the past."
"I told her that if she even dared to come near Sam I would kill her, Dean." Sam feels his breath knock out of his chest. "I didn't even hesitate saying it."
There's a deafening silence. Sam can hear his heart beating hard against his chest, afraid at this turn of events. Because, he cannot understand how their little friendship went from little things of helping each other out to full blown protection. To have an angel, heck anyone, willing to kill in order to save you...to have that kind of loyalty makes Sam tremble hard. He clenches at the sink, trying to ease away the knots in his stomach when Dean's voice whispers out exactly what he's feeling. "It scares you."
Cas shoots back an answer that holds no substance. "It's war."
"Enough with that bullshit of an excuse, it's war, it was orders," there's a huff, "Cas, Sam and I are not stupid. We know that you opened the panic room door and let Sam out."
Silence is enough of a confirmation as well as Cas's paling face and wide eyes. It's the most open, Sam has ever seen of the angel.
"And after everything we've been through and how Sam and I have our own little secrets we're not proud of and don't share, we totally understand why you didn't tell us. But what really matters is how you handle the repurcussions, and well, you've made up for it."
"I kept blaming you and Sam..." Cas shifts his feet, looking down at his shoes. "It was inappropriate for me...it was just..."
"You were angry and upset. I totally understand, been there, done that many a times. It's called being human, Cas."
There's quietness once more. Cas's face softens and there's relief rolling off of him. He turns his head to look at where Dean is. "I should go." He stands and takes a step outward, enough to turn fully back to the bed, "I'll call-"
Dean steps into the reflection, deep into Cas's personal space. His brother rarely does this with anyone else but Cas. "I was there with you when Fasiel bit the bullet." Sam's brow scrunches wondering who is Fasiel. Dean presses onward, the bags under his eyes from not sleeping, hair a bit wild and clothing wrinkled, little things from sitting in the chair waiting quietly for the angel to wake up. "You were close to Anna, so this has to be killing you man."
Cas's face tightens, his eyes closing off. "I'm fine, Dean."
"Like I said, bullshit." Then Dean drapes his arms around Cas and pulls the angel into a tight hug. Dean's staring straight ahead with a serious glint to his eyes, but his voice is light with quip. "We need to work on your definition of 'weaken me', create a scale from one to ten, one being like a tickle to ten meaning you're going to kill yourself."
Sam watches as Cas glances down at the floor, not sure what to do but he doesn't break Dean's hold. Then as if on their own accord, his arms work upwards and clutch light and gently as Dean's back.
Tilting his head to rest his chin on Cas's shoulder, Dean's voice is so soft Sam barely hears it. "Don't scare me like that ever again."
"Dean," whispers back Cas.
"I'm not going to watch you kill yourself or get smote by Michael." There's a dead certainity to Dean's tone that scares Sam. Then his brother tilts his head inwards. "Thanks for protecting Sammy."
Cas blinks slowly. Till the end of his life, Sam swears he saw a tiny tear trickle down the angel's cheek. But before he truly can confirm it, Cas turns his head away to gaze out the window, tightening his hold as Dean does the same. Sam sighs and quietly shuts the door.
Chapter 6