Fic: Outrun My Gun 2/7 (Supernatural; Dean/Castiel, NC-17)
Fic Title: Outrun My Gun ( Art Masterpost)
Author: misachan
Fandom/Genre: SPN, Drama, Romance, AU
Pairing(s): Dean/Castiel
Word Count: 3096
Warnings: Violence, language, character death
Summary: "The two of you are so stubborn you've made Heaven blink." Finally convinced that Sam and Dean will never say yes and accept their destinies, Heaven and Hell come up with a new plan, one that will redraw the Apocalypse and make everything run much more smoothly. All they need is Dean Winchester's soul.
Time had passed. Sam's hair was longer and he was dressed like it was cold out, not that Dean could feel it. And even if he could, Dean knew that all he'd care about was the box Sam was burying in the center of the crossroads. "What're you doing, Sam?" Dean said, circling around him. "Sam? Sam, you knock this off. You hear me?"
But of course he didn't. Castiel reached out and grabbed Dean by the arm. "Nothing should come of it," he said, pulling Dean back. Dean was about to argue with him when Sam finished burying the the box and stepped away.
A moment later a beautiful woman with dark hair and a mocking smirk on her face was standing there in front of Sam, her arms crossed as she looked him over. "Sam Winchester," she purred, her eyes glowing red in the moonlight. "You've been making quite a mess lately."
"I'm here to make a deal, not chat," Sam said. Sam looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept in weeks.
"Oh, I don't know," she said, one hand trailing down his shirt. "I feel a little slighted. No girl want to feel like the last choice, and here you've been going to every witch and shaman and little hoodoo bitch within a thousand miles." She tapped her fingernail against his chin. "That's not very flattering."
Sam shook her off and took a step back. "Stop it. You know what I want."
"Say it anyway," she said, the smile growing wider. "Let's make this official."
Sam's eyes narrowed, his hand fidgeting in the direction of the Colt. "I want my brother back," he forced out through his teeth, and Dean felt Castiel tense. "I want him alive."
"Well, sweetie, just for you---"
"Back the way he was," Sam said, glaring at the demon. "No tricks."
The crossroads demon frowned and Castiel relaxed. "You had to put it like that," she said, practically pouting. "Sorry, no deal."
"You don't get to say no deal."
"Actually, honey, I do. If I can't do the deal, then there's no deal."
"Why can't you?"
"Oh, I can make him walk around, make him talk like a good little meat puppet, but back the way he was? For that you'll need to ask a higher power," she said, looking over Sam's shoulder right at Dean and Castiel.
"Dude, can she see us?" Dean asked, wondering if this was going to turn into a fight.
"It appears so." Castiel's sword was in his hand, apparently he'd had the same thought. Fortunately, the demon only gave them a little smirk and turned back to Sam.
"Sorry this didn't work out," she said, turning the seductive charm back on. "If there's anything else I can do...."
"Give me my brother back," Sam repeated, steel in his eyes.
She sighed, all the game-playing disappearing in a whiff of annoyance. "Well, I can't. So why don't you---"
She never finished the sentence. Before Dean could even blink Sam pulled out the Colt and fired, one clean shot through her forehead. Just like Zachariah had done to Dean. The demon glowed with flickering light for a second before collapsing dead to the ground. Even though it was just a demon, Dean couldn't help feeling sick. "Jesus, Sam."
"Yes, Sam does this," Castiel sighed.
Dean got up in Sam's face. "What the hell was that, Sam? What're you trying to do?" Sam walked right through him and Dean threw up his hands in frustration. "I don't want you to help me like this, Sam."
"Now do you see what an effective a weapon you would make?" Castiel said, walking over to him. "If Heaven had you they would be the ones approaching Sam with a deal. Can you think of anything Sam would say no to now, if it would restore you?"
"I hate this, Cas. Mess with me all you want, but leave my family out of it."
"Unfortunately your family is very important, Dean."
Sam leaned over the Impala, his hands flat against the hood. "Why? Why does it have to be us?" He sat on the hood of the car next to Sam. "You said this was happening 'cause we wouldn't say yes to something. What the hell was it?"
"I shouldn't...." He looked over at Dean, his eyes uncertain. "I never know how much I can tell you without doing more damage to the timeline."
"I just need some idea of why this is happening. You said I had to trust you and I guess I do, but this walking around in the dark shit is fucking hard."
Castiel shoved his hands deep into his pockets, his face turned up to the night sky. He was still staring at the stars instead of Dean as he answered. "Do you remember what I told you about vessels?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah. You angels ask some poor schmo if you can take a ride, they say yes and in you go."
Castiel's lips twitched up. "You have a talent for vulgarity."
"Long years of practice. That's the gist, right?"
"It's a bit more complicated than that, but yes, that is the gist." He was quiet for a few long moments, his eyes closed. Dean got the feeling he was debating with himself and stayed very quiet, not wanting to do anything to make Castiel shut down this conversation. "You're a vessel, Dean," he finally said. "As is Sam. And for beings far more powerful that I."
"We're...." Dean never thought he would be nostalgic for when his biggest problem was finding out which grave to dig up and burn. "Vessels for who?"
"For you, the archangel Michael. For him," he said, nodding toward Sam, "Lucifer himself."
Dean missed the world making sense. "If I'm supposed to be Michael's vessel why in the hell would he have me killed?" he sputtered out, not even ready to touch the whole Sam-and-Lucifer business.
"Michael has given up on you ever saying yes," Castiel said. "He's instead pinned his hopes on another of your bloodline. I don't think I have to point out who."
"My dad would never say yes to that creep."
"No?" Castiel was staring at Sam, who'd moved to brooding in the driver's side of the car. "Do you also think it impossible that your brother would say yes to Lucifer?"
"He'd never do it," Dean said, although after the little display he'd just witnessed Dean wasn't nearly as sure as he would've been an hour ago.
"What if the promise could be made that if he said yes you could be restored?" Dean didn't answer and Castiel went in for the kill. "Now tell me what your father would do if Sam did accept that offer."
And Dean wanted to say their father would be on Sam's side, that he would find a way to get Sam out whatever stupid deal he'd made, but all he could think of was his dad whispering in his ear that someday he might have to kill Sam. "My dad would take care of the problem," Dean said, the words coming out almost against his will.
Castiel nodded. "That's what Heaven is counting on."
"There's gotta be something we can do, Cas. Some way to fix this."
"I can only keep you out of their schemes, Dean. I can't make their choices for them." Just as Dean started to argue Castiel looked around, alarm in his eyes. "We need to leave."
"What do we keep running from?"
Castiel just shook his head. "If we keep moving you won't find out." Which wasn't an answer, but Castiel touched his shoulder and they were gone before Dean could press the issue.
***
Dean was proud of Sam. He was still trying whatever crazy thing he could do to fix Dean - he'd approached everything with power short of djinns and tricksters, and Dean hoped he never got that desperate - but the leads were getting few and far between, giving Sam lots of time to kill. And instead of sitting around brooding Sam decided to do what John and Dean had always taught him.
He went hunting.
Although Dean didn't care for what Sam had done to his car. "What the hell is this?" he said, peering through the window at the mp3 player mounted on the dashboard.
"It's some sort of...device?" Castiel offered, clearly trying to be helpful.
"It's Sam wussing up my car, that's what it is." Sam had left the car on the side road and went the rest of the way into the woods on foot; Dean could sense where he was if he concentrated but he knew he'd never be able track him otherwise. "I don't like him going after a wendigo by himself, Cas. That's a two man job, at least."
"He has three now," Castiel said, and Dean grinned. Dean knew Castiel was indulging him, partially so Dean would stop asking him so many questions, but anything that let him help out Sam was good for Dean. The cave the wendigo laired in was pitch black and overgrown; for a second Dean could see Sam's flashlight bobbing in the distance before it was swallowed by the darkness. "Are you sure you want to try this now, Dean?"
Dean nodded. "Hey, gotta get the hang of his ghost stuff eventually, right?" He turned to Castiel, nerves getting the better of him for a second. "You're gonna follow?"
Castiel tilted his head, as if didn't understand the question. "Of course."
"Good." Dean let out a long breath. Even though he didn't need to breathe anymore, he still couldn't break the habit. He closed his eyes and concentrated, focusing on Sam; the world started to warp and when he opened his eyes again he found himself deep in the cave. There was a flutter of wings and Castiel was back beside him. "Fucking hate wendigos."
Dean had rematerialized in the chamber next to the one Sam was exploring, which he supposed was good for a first try. There was no light in the cave but Dean could still see. Although he wished he couldn't.
He was in the wendigo's larder, people strung up from the ceiling and long past rescuing. "I'm sorry, Sammy," he said. There was nothing worse than hunt with no happy ending.
Suddenly they heard a scream from the next chamber, a female scream; Castiel put one hand on his shoulder and they moved. When Dean's head cleared he saw Sam unhooking a hysterical girl from the wall, trying to calm her down before the wendigo heard them. His back was turned to the cave opening and he couldn't see the lumbering shape filling up that entrance way, its breath steaming from a long, leathery muzzle. Dean watched with horror as the thing raised one taloned hand at his brother's head. "Sam, look out!"
To Dean's astonishment Sam's head picked up. He didn't know if Castiel was amplifying the volume or if for once Dean had managed to do it just right, but Sam swerved to the side just enough for the wendigo's claws to score down his chest instead of taking his head off. He swore and pushed the girl past the wendigo to safety, blood already soaking through his shirt. "Go! Go, I'll catch up with you!" His torch had flickered out and it took Sam too long to relight it (that's why do don't do this alone, Sam, Dean thought, there's no one to watch your back); the wendigo swiped again and caught Sam in the shoulder, hurling him into the wall.
Sam was slow to get up and Dean stepped in between them. "You're not gonna touch him, you miserable freak." He concentrated with everything he had, focusing all of his will onto the wendigo, keeping it away, trying to throw the way he'd seen spirits do all his life. And for a second he saw the thing freeze, alarm and confusion in its rabid eyes.
But it wasn't enough. The wendigo shook off the control and ran through him, saliva dripping from its muzzle as it went right for Sam.
Dean had never felt the kind of desperate relief wash through him as he did when Castiel was just suddenly there between the monster and Sam at the last possible moment. He didn't have time to get the sword out before the thing struck, hitting him with a swipe that staggered him back a few steps and left bloody strips of flesh dangling from its claws. "Cas!" Dean said, moving in on instinct before Castiel caught his eye, waving him back with an I'm fine gesture that the circumstances made it really hard to believe. The wendigo went in for a bite and Castiel caught it by the muzzle, then took a breath and hurled the creature towards the back wall like it was a toy.
The wendigo landed hard but was up quickly; it snorted like a bull and set in for a charge, and Dean had forgotten just how fast the damn things were. Castiel's shirt was already soaked with blood; his sword was out now but Dean could see his hand shaking, and Sam was just barely coming to behind him.
Dean couldn't just stand by and watch. He focused on the flickering flame of the torch, putting every ounce of will toward making it move. The wendigo started its charge and in one desperate, exhausting surge Dean managed to throw the torch across the cave, missing the monster entirely but managing to land the torch within Sam's reach. Sam shook his head and grabbed it; Castiel stepped aside just in time for Sam to thrust the torch into the charging creature's chest. The wendigo howled and staggered back, going up like it had been doused in gasoline. Sam leaned up on one elbow and watched it burn, panting in the stagnant cave air.
Dean went over to check on Castiel, who was watching the smoldering wendigo with that curious bird expression he had. "Fuck, Cas," Dean said, moving the coat aside to take a good look. "I can see your ribs."
Castiel's brow furrowed. "It will heal," he said, as if the wendigo had given him a paper cut. But it was healing, or at least it had already stopped bleeding, so Dean assumed the angel knew what he was talking about. He turned his attention back to Sam, whose eyes were dazed and slowly blinking closed. "Looks like you gave yourself a concussion, you giant idiot." Obviously Sam didn't answer him, and Dean looked over to Castiel. "We gotta get him outta here, Cas."
Castiel nodded, crouching next to Sam. "At the very least we can get him out of this cave."
Dean heard the wings and when he blinked they were outside; Dean could see the girl's tracks heading off through the muddy ground and was glad at least someone made it out of that mess. "How's he look?"
"Unconscious again, but I don't believe the wounds are life-threatening."
"Can't you heal him?"
Castiel shook his head, his expression darkening. "I'm afraid not."
"What the hell kind of angel can't heal people?"
"One that's been cut off from Heaven," Castiel snapped, blue eyes glaring up at Dean.
Dean crossed his arms, staring down at the ground. "Sorry, man," he muttered. "I'm just worried about my brother, you know."
"I know, Dean." He pushed himself to his feet with a sigh and pulled something out of his pocket. "What's the number you call for emergencies?"
Dean couldn't believe his eyes when he realized that Castiel was holding a cell phone. "Dude, you carry around a phone?"
Castiel blinked at him, looked down at the phone and then back at Dean. "Um...yes?"
And despite the seriousness of the situation, something about an angel messing around with a cell phone cracked Dean up. "Man, what does God need with a starship?"
He laughed harder as Castiel's brow furrowed, like Dean had started speaking in tongues."I...I don't...but God doesn't...."
"No, Cas, it's okay," Dean said, crouching down next to Sam; if he looked at Castiel it was just going to set him off again. "It's a quote from...you know what, don't worry about it, it's not that great a movie. 9-1-1, Cas. Dial 9-1-1." Dean listened to Castiel stumble through telling the dispatcher where Sam was and some version of what had happened as he looked Sam over; his brother was definitely unconscious but his breathing was steady and his color looked good. "You just can't stay out of trouble without me, can you, Sam?" His hand went right through when he tried to move Sam's hair aside to check out the gash on his head and Dean sat back on his heels, muttering under his breath in frustration.
Castiel ended his call and Dean felt the angel's hand on his shoulder. "Help should be here for Sam shortly."
"Thanks, Cas. This is so fucking frustrating, you know?" He looked up at Castiel. "How'd you wind up with that thing, anyway?"
Castiel pulled the phone back out of his pocket, looking at it with undisguised fondness. "A friend gave it to me," he said. "I think it was actually in jest at the time, but it's proven useful on more than one occasion."
"Good thing it worked, if it's from the future."
"Yes, I'm quite relieved." He frowned. "Although the voice is telling me I'm short of minutes again."
"You should just toss it then and get a new one."
Castiel shook his head. "I'd be very reluctant to do so." His voice went soft. "I'd never received a gift before."
Dean just shook his head. "You should hook up with some better friends."
"I'm very fond of my friends."
"Bet you can't wait to stop babysitting me and get back to 'em, huh?"
Castiel looked up at the sky instead of at Dean. "Do you want to stay until the ambulance arrives?"
Dean knew drop the subject when he heard it. "If that's cool. Sam didn't see you during any of that, did he?"
Castiel shook his head. "I shielded myself from his vision. And even if he had, he may not remember any of this."
"Probably for the best." The shrill whine of an ambulance siren cut through the air. "There's our cue."
"You were impressive in there, Dean," Castiel said, his hand back on Dean's shoulder.
Dean looked down at his unconscious brother. "Yeah. Not good enough, though."
On to Part 3
Return to Masterpost
Back to Part 1
Author: misachan
Fandom/Genre: SPN, Drama, Romance, AU
Pairing(s): Dean/Castiel
Word Count: 3096
Warnings: Violence, language, character death
Summary: "The two of you are so stubborn you've made Heaven blink." Finally convinced that Sam and Dean will never say yes and accept their destinies, Heaven and Hell come up with a new plan, one that will redraw the Apocalypse and make everything run much more smoothly. All they need is Dean Winchester's soul.
Time had passed. Sam's hair was longer and he was dressed like it was cold out, not that Dean could feel it. And even if he could, Dean knew that all he'd care about was the box Sam was burying in the center of the crossroads. "What're you doing, Sam?" Dean said, circling around him. "Sam? Sam, you knock this off. You hear me?"
But of course he didn't. Castiel reached out and grabbed Dean by the arm. "Nothing should come of it," he said, pulling Dean back. Dean was about to argue with him when Sam finished burying the the box and stepped away.
A moment later a beautiful woman with dark hair and a mocking smirk on her face was standing there in front of Sam, her arms crossed as she looked him over. "Sam Winchester," she purred, her eyes glowing red in the moonlight. "You've been making quite a mess lately."
"I'm here to make a deal, not chat," Sam said. Sam looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept in weeks.
"Oh, I don't know," she said, one hand trailing down his shirt. "I feel a little slighted. No girl want to feel like the last choice, and here you've been going to every witch and shaman and little hoodoo bitch within a thousand miles." She tapped her fingernail against his chin. "That's not very flattering."
Sam shook her off and took a step back. "Stop it. You know what I want."
"Say it anyway," she said, the smile growing wider. "Let's make this official."
Sam's eyes narrowed, his hand fidgeting in the direction of the Colt. "I want my brother back," he forced out through his teeth, and Dean felt Castiel tense. "I want him alive."
"Well, sweetie, just for you---"
"Back the way he was," Sam said, glaring at the demon. "No tricks."
The crossroads demon frowned and Castiel relaxed. "You had to put it like that," she said, practically pouting. "Sorry, no deal."
"You don't get to say no deal."
"Actually, honey, I do. If I can't do the deal, then there's no deal."
"Why can't you?"
"Oh, I can make him walk around, make him talk like a good little meat puppet, but back the way he was? For that you'll need to ask a higher power," she said, looking over Sam's shoulder right at Dean and Castiel.
"Dude, can she see us?" Dean asked, wondering if this was going to turn into a fight.
"It appears so." Castiel's sword was in his hand, apparently he'd had the same thought. Fortunately, the demon only gave them a little smirk and turned back to Sam.
"Sorry this didn't work out," she said, turning the seductive charm back on. "If there's anything else I can do...."
"Give me my brother back," Sam repeated, steel in his eyes.
She sighed, all the game-playing disappearing in a whiff of annoyance. "Well, I can't. So why don't you---"
She never finished the sentence. Before Dean could even blink Sam pulled out the Colt and fired, one clean shot through her forehead. Just like Zachariah had done to Dean. The demon glowed with flickering light for a second before collapsing dead to the ground. Even though it was just a demon, Dean couldn't help feeling sick. "Jesus, Sam."
"Yes, Sam does this," Castiel sighed.
Dean got up in Sam's face. "What the hell was that, Sam? What're you trying to do?" Sam walked right through him and Dean threw up his hands in frustration. "I don't want you to help me like this, Sam."
"Now do you see what an effective a weapon you would make?" Castiel said, walking over to him. "If Heaven had you they would be the ones approaching Sam with a deal. Can you think of anything Sam would say no to now, if it would restore you?"
"I hate this, Cas. Mess with me all you want, but leave my family out of it."
"Unfortunately your family is very important, Dean."
Sam leaned over the Impala, his hands flat against the hood. "Why? Why does it have to be us?" He sat on the hood of the car next to Sam. "You said this was happening 'cause we wouldn't say yes to something. What the hell was it?"
"I shouldn't...." He looked over at Dean, his eyes uncertain. "I never know how much I can tell you without doing more damage to the timeline."
"I just need some idea of why this is happening. You said I had to trust you and I guess I do, but this walking around in the dark shit is fucking hard."
Castiel shoved his hands deep into his pockets, his face turned up to the night sky. He was still staring at the stars instead of Dean as he answered. "Do you remember what I told you about vessels?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah. You angels ask some poor schmo if you can take a ride, they say yes and in you go."
Castiel's lips twitched up. "You have a talent for vulgarity."
"Long years of practice. That's the gist, right?"
"It's a bit more complicated than that, but yes, that is the gist." He was quiet for a few long moments, his eyes closed. Dean got the feeling he was debating with himself and stayed very quiet, not wanting to do anything to make Castiel shut down this conversation. "You're a vessel, Dean," he finally said. "As is Sam. And for beings far more powerful that I."
"We're...." Dean never thought he would be nostalgic for when his biggest problem was finding out which grave to dig up and burn. "Vessels for who?"
"For you, the archangel Michael. For him," he said, nodding toward Sam, "Lucifer himself."
Dean missed the world making sense. "If I'm supposed to be Michael's vessel why in the hell would he have me killed?" he sputtered out, not even ready to touch the whole Sam-and-Lucifer business.
"Michael has given up on you ever saying yes," Castiel said. "He's instead pinned his hopes on another of your bloodline. I don't think I have to point out who."
"My dad would never say yes to that creep."
"No?" Castiel was staring at Sam, who'd moved to brooding in the driver's side of the car. "Do you also think it impossible that your brother would say yes to Lucifer?"
"He'd never do it," Dean said, although after the little display he'd just witnessed Dean wasn't nearly as sure as he would've been an hour ago.
"What if the promise could be made that if he said yes you could be restored?" Dean didn't answer and Castiel went in for the kill. "Now tell me what your father would do if Sam did accept that offer."
And Dean wanted to say their father would be on Sam's side, that he would find a way to get Sam out whatever stupid deal he'd made, but all he could think of was his dad whispering in his ear that someday he might have to kill Sam. "My dad would take care of the problem," Dean said, the words coming out almost against his will.
Castiel nodded. "That's what Heaven is counting on."
"There's gotta be something we can do, Cas. Some way to fix this."
"I can only keep you out of their schemes, Dean. I can't make their choices for them." Just as Dean started to argue Castiel looked around, alarm in his eyes. "We need to leave."
"What do we keep running from?"
Castiel just shook his head. "If we keep moving you won't find out." Which wasn't an answer, but Castiel touched his shoulder and they were gone before Dean could press the issue.
***
Dean was proud of Sam. He was still trying whatever crazy thing he could do to fix Dean - he'd approached everything with power short of djinns and tricksters, and Dean hoped he never got that desperate - but the leads were getting few and far between, giving Sam lots of time to kill. And instead of sitting around brooding Sam decided to do what John and Dean had always taught him.
He went hunting.
Although Dean didn't care for what Sam had done to his car. "What the hell is this?" he said, peering through the window at the mp3 player mounted on the dashboard.
"It's some sort of...device?" Castiel offered, clearly trying to be helpful.
"It's Sam wussing up my car, that's what it is." Sam had left the car on the side road and went the rest of the way into the woods on foot; Dean could sense where he was if he concentrated but he knew he'd never be able track him otherwise. "I don't like him going after a wendigo by himself, Cas. That's a two man job, at least."
"He has three now," Castiel said, and Dean grinned. Dean knew Castiel was indulging him, partially so Dean would stop asking him so many questions, but anything that let him help out Sam was good for Dean. The cave the wendigo laired in was pitch black and overgrown; for a second Dean could see Sam's flashlight bobbing in the distance before it was swallowed by the darkness. "Are you sure you want to try this now, Dean?"
Dean nodded. "Hey, gotta get the hang of his ghost stuff eventually, right?" He turned to Castiel, nerves getting the better of him for a second. "You're gonna follow?"
Castiel tilted his head, as if didn't understand the question. "Of course."
"Good." Dean let out a long breath. Even though he didn't need to breathe anymore, he still couldn't break the habit. He closed his eyes and concentrated, focusing on Sam; the world started to warp and when he opened his eyes again he found himself deep in the cave. There was a flutter of wings and Castiel was back beside him. "Fucking hate wendigos."
Dean had rematerialized in the chamber next to the one Sam was exploring, which he supposed was good for a first try. There was no light in the cave but Dean could still see. Although he wished he couldn't.
He was in the wendigo's larder, people strung up from the ceiling and long past rescuing. "I'm sorry, Sammy," he said. There was nothing worse than hunt with no happy ending.
Suddenly they heard a scream from the next chamber, a female scream; Castiel put one hand on his shoulder and they moved. When Dean's head cleared he saw Sam unhooking a hysterical girl from the wall, trying to calm her down before the wendigo heard them. His back was turned to the cave opening and he couldn't see the lumbering shape filling up that entrance way, its breath steaming from a long, leathery muzzle. Dean watched with horror as the thing raised one taloned hand at his brother's head. "Sam, look out!"
To Dean's astonishment Sam's head picked up. He didn't know if Castiel was amplifying the volume or if for once Dean had managed to do it just right, but Sam swerved to the side just enough for the wendigo's claws to score down his chest instead of taking his head off. He swore and pushed the girl past the wendigo to safety, blood already soaking through his shirt. "Go! Go, I'll catch up with you!" His torch had flickered out and it took Sam too long to relight it (that's why do don't do this alone, Sam, Dean thought, there's no one to watch your back); the wendigo swiped again and caught Sam in the shoulder, hurling him into the wall.
Sam was slow to get up and Dean stepped in between them. "You're not gonna touch him, you miserable freak." He concentrated with everything he had, focusing all of his will onto the wendigo, keeping it away, trying to throw the way he'd seen spirits do all his life. And for a second he saw the thing freeze, alarm and confusion in its rabid eyes.
But it wasn't enough. The wendigo shook off the control and ran through him, saliva dripping from its muzzle as it went right for Sam.
Dean had never felt the kind of desperate relief wash through him as he did when Castiel was just suddenly there between the monster and Sam at the last possible moment. He didn't have time to get the sword out before the thing struck, hitting him with a swipe that staggered him back a few steps and left bloody strips of flesh dangling from its claws. "Cas!" Dean said, moving in on instinct before Castiel caught his eye, waving him back with an I'm fine gesture that the circumstances made it really hard to believe. The wendigo went in for a bite and Castiel caught it by the muzzle, then took a breath and hurled the creature towards the back wall like it was a toy.
The wendigo landed hard but was up quickly; it snorted like a bull and set in for a charge, and Dean had forgotten just how fast the damn things were. Castiel's shirt was already soaked with blood; his sword was out now but Dean could see his hand shaking, and Sam was just barely coming to behind him.
Dean couldn't just stand by and watch. He focused on the flickering flame of the torch, putting every ounce of will toward making it move. The wendigo started its charge and in one desperate, exhausting surge Dean managed to throw the torch across the cave, missing the monster entirely but managing to land the torch within Sam's reach. Sam shook his head and grabbed it; Castiel stepped aside just in time for Sam to thrust the torch into the charging creature's chest. The wendigo howled and staggered back, going up like it had been doused in gasoline. Sam leaned up on one elbow and watched it burn, panting in the stagnant cave air.
Dean went over to check on Castiel, who was watching the smoldering wendigo with that curious bird expression he had. "Fuck, Cas," Dean said, moving the coat aside to take a good look. "I can see your ribs."
Castiel's brow furrowed. "It will heal," he said, as if the wendigo had given him a paper cut. But it was healing, or at least it had already stopped bleeding, so Dean assumed the angel knew what he was talking about. He turned his attention back to Sam, whose eyes were dazed and slowly blinking closed. "Looks like you gave yourself a concussion, you giant idiot." Obviously Sam didn't answer him, and Dean looked over to Castiel. "We gotta get him outta here, Cas."
Castiel nodded, crouching next to Sam. "At the very least we can get him out of this cave."
Dean heard the wings and when he blinked they were outside; Dean could see the girl's tracks heading off through the muddy ground and was glad at least someone made it out of that mess. "How's he look?"
"Unconscious again, but I don't believe the wounds are life-threatening."
"Can't you heal him?"
Castiel shook his head, his expression darkening. "I'm afraid not."
"What the hell kind of angel can't heal people?"
"One that's been cut off from Heaven," Castiel snapped, blue eyes glaring up at Dean.
Dean crossed his arms, staring down at the ground. "Sorry, man," he muttered. "I'm just worried about my brother, you know."
"I know, Dean." He pushed himself to his feet with a sigh and pulled something out of his pocket. "What's the number you call for emergencies?"
Dean couldn't believe his eyes when he realized that Castiel was holding a cell phone. "Dude, you carry around a phone?"
Castiel blinked at him, looked down at the phone and then back at Dean. "Um...yes?"
And despite the seriousness of the situation, something about an angel messing around with a cell phone cracked Dean up. "Man, what does God need with a starship?"
He laughed harder as Castiel's brow furrowed, like Dean had started speaking in tongues."I...I don't...but God doesn't...."
"No, Cas, it's okay," Dean said, crouching down next to Sam; if he looked at Castiel it was just going to set him off again. "It's a quote from...you know what, don't worry about it, it's not that great a movie. 9-1-1, Cas. Dial 9-1-1." Dean listened to Castiel stumble through telling the dispatcher where Sam was and some version of what had happened as he looked Sam over; his brother was definitely unconscious but his breathing was steady and his color looked good. "You just can't stay out of trouble without me, can you, Sam?" His hand went right through when he tried to move Sam's hair aside to check out the gash on his head and Dean sat back on his heels, muttering under his breath in frustration.
Castiel ended his call and Dean felt the angel's hand on his shoulder. "Help should be here for Sam shortly."
"Thanks, Cas. This is so fucking frustrating, you know?" He looked up at Castiel. "How'd you wind up with that thing, anyway?"
Castiel pulled the phone back out of his pocket, looking at it with undisguised fondness. "A friend gave it to me," he said. "I think it was actually in jest at the time, but it's proven useful on more than one occasion."
"Good thing it worked, if it's from the future."
"Yes, I'm quite relieved." He frowned. "Although the voice is telling me I'm short of minutes again."
"You should just toss it then and get a new one."
Castiel shook his head. "I'd be very reluctant to do so." His voice went soft. "I'd never received a gift before."
Dean just shook his head. "You should hook up with some better friends."
"I'm very fond of my friends."
"Bet you can't wait to stop babysitting me and get back to 'em, huh?"
Castiel looked up at the sky instead of at Dean. "Do you want to stay until the ambulance arrives?"
Dean knew drop the subject when he heard it. "If that's cool. Sam didn't see you during any of that, did he?"
Castiel shook his head. "I shielded myself from his vision. And even if he had, he may not remember any of this."
"Probably for the best." The shrill whine of an ambulance siren cut through the air. "There's our cue."
"You were impressive in there, Dean," Castiel said, his hand back on Dean's shoulder.
Dean looked down at his unconscious brother. "Yeah. Not good enough, though."
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