I Am No Angel Chapter 9
Title: I Am No Angel
Author: Miss Meh
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel, Adam/Michael
Rating: R for swearing and implied sexual situations
Warnings: AU, copious amounts of fluff and sexual innuendo, fusion with Beauty and the Beast
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 5146
Status: WIP
Summary: His wings always seemed to be the problem, Castiel figured. But when he and his family move to Sioux Falls and he meets a Beast locked away in a castle, could his wings be the solution?
A/N: I really want you guys like this one. The whole story has been leading up to this, so I hope it lives up to you guys’ expectations.
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Chapter Nine: Like a gift from the heavens
It was easy to tell
It was love from above
That could save me from hell.
--“Into the Night” Santana ft. Chad Kroeger
Adam stared at his brother’s body in shock. Dean was dead. Dean-the one who had taken care of him and Sam when they were little, had fed them, clothed them, taught them how to defend themselves. His older brother was dead. What would he and Sam do without him? He let out a choked cry and his focus turned to the man who had killed his brother. Why was this piece of scum still alive while Dean was bleeding out on the floor? He wanted to do something about it but he was a teacup. There was nothing he could do.
Michael didn’t have such limitations. The man entered Adam’s line of sight and threw himself at Lucifer. Michael had lost his sword at some point-most likely when Dean had pushed him out of the way, but Lucifer’s sword was still impaling Dean so Adam figured they were pretty evenly matched. Michael threw the first punch to Lucifer’s stomach, causing the other man to double over with the force of the blow. Lucifer gave as good as he got, however, and soon it was Michael backing away, a hand pressed to his stomach. Inevitably drawn back together, they clashed again and again, neither one gaining the upper hand.
The fight seemed to go on forever, but in reality it probably only lasted a few minutes. Adam didn’t want to be watching this, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away. The two men moved nearer and nearer the edge of the balcony. The teacup could see where this was going and he heard Bobby shout a warning, but neither of the combatants heeded it. As Michael and Lucifer fell over the edge into oblivion, Adam heard himself give another wordless yell of agony.
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Bobby was operating in a state of profound grief. How was it possible that he had just lost both of his sons in the space of ten minutes? He felt tears welling in his eyes. What would his wife have said if she were still here? He had let his boys go without a fight and that just felt wrong. He probably wouldn’t have been able to do anything to save Castiel, but Michael… He could have helped. Instead he had been laboring over the body of the Beast, who was well beyond Bobby’s shoddy skills with first aid. By the time he had looked up and yelled at the idjits to watch the fuck out, it had been too late. They had gone over.
He choked back a sob. His boys… Bobby remembered Michael running up to him with a crudely crafted bow and arrow when he was ten-the first of the many weapons the boy had made as a child. The pride on his son’s tiny face stood out in Bobby’s memories even all these years later. And now Bobby would never see that proud smile again. He felt the first tears begin to spill from his eyes as he recalled the solemn satisfaction in Castiel’s expression when his youngest had read to him from a dry Latin tome that Bobby himself had trouble translating. He and Michael would never be able to exchange exasperated looks whenever Castiel said something neither one of them understood. He would never…
Bobby’s train of thought was cut off when he heard Sam call his name. He attempted to compose himself and push all thoughts not related to the present from his mind. Bobby especially didn’t want to think about the three bodies that were now lying on the ground below the tower. He shook his head and passed a hand over his face to remove the moisture from his cheeks before turning back to the clock and the candlestick next to him.
Sam had removed the sword and Gabriel was attempting to fill the wound on his front with wax. It would actually have worked out pretty well if Dean weren’t bleeding out from the back too. The candlestick wasn’t giving up though. Bobby supposed that it was probably the sobs of his lover that was making him continue more than any hope for Dean’s survival. The Beast was only breathing shallowly at the moment and judging by the spreading puddle of blood, he wouldn’t be breathing for much longer.
He felt another pang of sadness at this thought. No, he didn’t really know Dean all that well but Bobby was sure that Castiel had loved the Beast. He could only be somewhat grateful that his son wouldn’t know what had happened. Bobby still felt the pain caused by the loss of his wife and it had been over twenty years since she had died. Besides, Bobby had at least been able to say that he had no regrets when it came to her. He had a feeling that Castiel wouldn’t have been able to say the same. Bobby hadn’t been kidding when he told Dean that Castiel was oblivious. The two probably hadn’t even admitted their feelings for each other.
Bobby heard the sound of wings behind him and spun around, barely daring to hope that it could be… But it was. Castiel’s head rose above the rail of the balcony, his dark wings pumping, and his brother clutched in his arms. Bobby couldn’t hold back a sob this time. Both of his boys were alive, the idjits.
Bobby’s joy didn’t last very long. When Castiel saw Dean, he dropped his brother face first onto the balcony and rushed to the Beast’s side. Bobby could hear him speaking but he turned away, not wanting to see his son’s grief. He watched Adam and Michael instead. The teacup had hopped up onto the man’s lap the minute Michael had rolled over onto his back and sat up. Bobby sighed. Well, he supposed if he could accept having one gay son, two wasn’t much more of a stretch. He had been watching them earlier and had seen that there was something there. Whatever it was, it seemed to be amplified now by both Adam’s simultaneous grief in the face of his brother’s death and his relief that Michael was alive. Bobby watched as Michael’s hands came up to hold the distraught teacup, his fingers stroking Adam’s sides in an effort to comfort. He wondered if they were as oblivious as their respective siblings.
His thoughts were distracted as he noticed glowing from the corner of his eye. He turned just as the golden light washed over them all.
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When Castiel had been hit by Lucifer’s blade, it had been the worst pain he had ever felt. Now, looking down at Dean’s body, he knew that this was a hundred times worse. Castiel could heal from flesh wounds, bruises, and broken bones in a relatively small amount of time thanks to his angelic healing abilities, but this… There was no healing from a broken heart and this was one Castiel knew that he would never recover from.
Castiel was very constant in both his emotions and his actions. Changes didn’t come easy to him, so when he made life altering decisions they tended to stick. His life had changed quite a bit over the last year, but nothing had affected him with as much intensity as Dean had. Castiel had never told the man how he felt about him and now, he would never know how Dean felt about him. In that moment, he had his first experience with regret and it made him mourn all the more for what could have been.
He dropped to his knees beside Dean, heedless of the blood that was coating his pant legs. He was crying but he couldn’t bring himself to even attempt to stop the tears. Castiel noticed Gabriel leading Sam away from them, but wasn’t able to muster up the energy to acknowledge them. At that moment, Dean seemed to be his whole world and it was all crumbling around him. He placed a hand on Dean’s chest, felt that he was still breathing, if only just barely. Castiel leaned forward when he saw Dean’s eyes flutter open.
“Dean!” Dean didn’t answer, just looked at the angel through hazy eyes. Castiel ran his fingers through the hair on Dean’s cheek and rested his forehead against the Beast’s. “Dean,” he whispered. “You cannot die. I will not let you.” He ran one hand down Dean’s chest to place it over the wound on his stomach and attempted to push the healing energy he had used earlier from his own body into Dean’s. When nothing happened, he closed his eyes and concentrated harder. His eyes flew open, wide with despair. “Why is it not working?” Dean gave him one last heartbreaking look before his eyes rolled back. Castiel moved his hand up and over Dean’s heart and felt its final beat under his fingers. “Dean,” he whispered. “Please do not die. Please.” Tears made tracks down his face as he sobbed, some of them falling onto Dean’s cheeks. “Please,” he murmured softly once more. “I love you.”
He moved his head down to Dean’s right shoulder and buried his face in the fur on his neck when Dean didn’t respond. He didn’t see Dean start to glow until he heard Sam’s gasp from behind him and looked up. He jerked back instinctively at first. What was happening? When Dean’s shoulders started to lifting from the floor, Castiel moved forward again to cover Dean’s body with his own. The angel didn’t know what was going on, but there was no way he was going to let something take Dean away from him-even if Dean wasn’t in there anymore.
His hand drifted up to Dean’s left shoulder and gripped it tight. Light started to pour from the area where Castiel’s hand met Dean’s fur. Castiel had a moment to be surprised about that before his vision blurred and the world faded into darkness.
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When Dean opened his eyes, he was sitting on a lakeside dock, Castiel seated next to him. The angel’s wings were stretched out behind him, fluttering in the breeze. When Cas looked over and saw Dean, his face widened into the largest, most expressive smile Dean had ever seen on the angel. “Dean.” Castiel reached out and brushed his fingers over Dean’s face and the man was startled when he felt the sensation of flesh on flesh. It was one he hadn’t felt in over a century.
He raised his hands and simply looked at them. Fingers, no claws. He wiggled said fingers, feeling the way they moved, and then turned his gaze to the angel. “Cas,” he choked out. Cas leaned forward and rested their foreheads together. “Cas, what’s going on? I thought you were dead.” Dean’s tone was haunted; he didn’t particularly want to think on that subject, but he had to ask.
Dean brought one hand up and rubbed a palm over the rough stubble on Cas’s cheek. The angel turned his head into Dean’s fingers and let out a sound that was something like a purr. “Not dead,” Cas said. At Dean’s questioning look, he elaborated. “A knife is not sufficient to kill an angel and neither is a fall of any magnitude. My healing abilities compensate for any injuries I might sustain.” The angel was rubbing his cheek against Dean’s palm, still making that almost-purr, and it was distracting. It wasn’t distracting enough for Dean to miss the implications of Cas’s statement. He was grateful that he didn’t have to worry about his angel dying on him.
A thought occurred to him. “Hey, Cas, where are we?” Dean asked, his eyes searching the scenery for some clue. “And why am I human?” The angel blushed and Dean was instantly curious. Cas obviously knew something of what was going on, but would he tell Dean? “C’mon, Cas, what’s going on?”
The angel met his eyes. The color still in his cheeks, but he lifted his chin and declared, “You were dying-most likely already dead-and I…” He tilted his head and looked Dean up and down as though to judge how receptive the man would be to this information. Whatever he saw, he continued, “I told you not to die because I loved you.”
Cas’s blue eyed gaze seemed to grow even more intense as he waited for an answer. Dean couldn’t look away from it. “Cas, I love you too,” he confessed. Then he frowned. “Wait a minute, if you love me, why did you refuse my marriage proposal? I get the first time-I didn’t do it right-but what about the last time?”
The angel pulled his head back a bit and gave Dean an affectionately patronizing look. “Dean, what did I tell you both times you asked?”
Dean grimaced and thought for a moment before responding, “‘I am no angel.’ Cas, I don’t get it. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
Cas stroked the side of Dean’s face in an attempt to soothe his frustration and Dean could feel his emotions calm under the angel’s touch. “And what was the first thing I ever said to you?”
Dean’s answer was quicker this time. He had replayed that first conversation in his head many times. “‘I am no angel.’ Cas, what the fuck’s your point?”
Cas didn’t tell him. He just patiently asked another question. “What did I tell you in response to your question immediately after that?”
Dean looked away from Cas and spoke slowly to make sure that he recalled it accurately. “I asked you what you were if you weren’t an angel and you said…” He hesitated. “You said that you didn’t like being called an angel.” Dean’s eyes moved back to meet the angel’s. “So, you’re telling me that you rejected me because I called you Angel?”
Cas’s voice was shy and uncertain when he spoke. “I did not want you to marry me only because I am an angel.”
Dean swallowed and gave Cas a guilty look. He hadn’t meant it to come off that way, but he could see how it had. Well, he had already admitted his love for the guy once. Doing it again couldn’t hurt. He held Cas’s gaze with his own as he answered. “So, if I said, ‘Cas, I love you way too fucking much for my own good. Will you please just fucking marry me already?’, you would say?”
A joyful smile spread across Cas’s face but his voice was as deadpan as ever when he replied, “Yes, of course, Dean.”
Dean’s grin matched the angel’s as he pulled Cas into a hug. He buried his face in Cas’s neck and whispered, “This is great and all, but we’re dreaming right? I think it’s time for us to wake up now.” Dean closed his eyes and hoped that this hadn’t all been the wishful fantasy of a dying man. When he opened his eyes and saw a bright light, he abruptly slammed them back shut. “Please not heaven,” he murmured. “I’ll do anything, just send me back to Cas. Please.”
“Dean,” a deep voice commanded his attention. “Dean, open your eyes.”
For once, Dean did as he was told. When Cas’s face swam into focus, Dean was glad he had listened. Dean wrapped his arms around his angel and dragged him down into his arms. “Cas,” he gasped. “We’re both alive. Did that…” He allowed the angel to lift his head so that their eyes could meet. “Did that really… On the dock…”
Cas seemed to grasp what Dean was saying. He nodded quickly and began running his hands over Dean’s skin to check for the wounds that had been there before Dean had died. As Cas’s fingertips passed over his chest, Dean couldn’t keep a groan from escaping his lips. The angel looked down at him in alarm. Dean licked his lips. “Cas, I don’t think you should do that out here. Wait ‘til we’re not surrounded by our families at the very least.” He thought very hard about Sam and Gabriel and… Okay, that was just disgusting. Crisis averted.
Cas didn’t seem to get it, but he stopped feeling Dean up at least. Dean sat up and looked down at himself. Damn, it was good to be human again. Why the fuck was he naked though? Not that he had ever really been all that modest, but still, he hadn’t even seen his own skin in so long he could barely remember what it looked like. He sure as hell didn’t want everybody and their brother to take stock of it before he had a chance to. When he looked back up, he saw that Cas had removed his shirt and was laying it over his lap.
“It does not particularly bother me,” Cas explained as he arranged the fabric. Dean couldn’t help shuddering at the thought of Cas’s hands being so close to his dick. “However, I have read that human etiquette dictates that one must be clothed at all times when in the presence of humans with whom they do not wish to copulate. I would be somewhat disturbed should anyone in this room fall into that category with regards to you.”
Dean laughed at Cas’s awkwardness. “Thank you, Cas,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”
Cas just stared at Dean for a moment before leaning forward and kissing him. It was everything and nothing like Dean had expected. Cas had no fucking clue what he was doing; Dean had expected that. He also found that he didn’t give a shit and that surprised him. He lifted a hand to push Cas’s chin up into the right position then took Cas’s bottom lip between his own to suck on it. When the angel whimpered, Dean knew he was lost.
When Cas passed a hand over Dean’s left shoulder, Dean couldn’t suppress a flinch. Cas pulled back instinctively and hell, if he didn’t want to know what the fuck had caused that flare of pain, Dean would have kissed the angel again just to see more of that debauched look on his face. He almost gave in and leaned back toward Cas, but then the angel passed his hand over that area on his shoulder again and Dean just had to look. He turned his head to the side.
There was a scar on his shoulder that hadn’t been there before. It was red and raw and livid and that alone gave Dean pause. But what really alarmed him was the fact that it was in the shape of a handprint. Not just any handprint though. Dean watched as Cas lowered his hand and fit his directly over its twin. The burst of feeling that swept through him at the contact was just as shocking as the pain. Dean looked away from his shoulder to look up at Cas.
Cas appeared to be just as dazed as Dean was. He licked his lips and Dean couldn’t keep himself from tracking the movement. When Castiel didn’t speak, Dean opened his mouth and said the first thing that came to mind. “What the fuck?”
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When the golden light faded away, Michael was left with his arms wrapped around the unconscious and naked form of a teenaged male. He swept his eyes from side to side and, when there was no teacup to be found, concluded that this must be Adam. It appeared that Castiel had made it in time to save Dean Winchester. A quick look around him revealed several more bare male bodies slumped in seemingly lifeless heaps on the floor. One of the men was covered almost completely by the angel and his wings, and so Michael felt it safe to assume that this one was Dean. Whatever had happened, it would seem that Castiel had managed to simultaneously prevent Dean from bleeding out and revert the Winchesters back to their human forms. Michael wondered how exactly this had come about, but before he could think anymore about it, the body in his arms shifted and his attention was drawn back to Adam.
Michael took the opportunity to study the former teacup while he was still asleep. His eyes traced from the light-colored hair that lay messily over the boy’s forehead down to the smooth jaw line and full lips. Adam was an undeniably beautiful young man if one were to look at him from a purely aesthetic point of view, and Michael, though he hated to admit it, was having a problem keeping his scrutiny platonic. The boy-and he did look like a boy, no matter how much he might protest when he was awake-was younger than Michael had pictured. He supposed that it was only natural that Adam should act older considering the fact that the Winchester brothers had been trapped in the castle for longer than Michael had been alive, but… Michael sighed. It was one thing to know something logically, but it was completely different to see it with his own eyes.
As a soldier, Michael had plenty of experience hiding his emotions, but that didn’t mean that he was completely oblivious to them himself. Michael was man enough to admit that he was developing feelings for Adam. There had just been something about Adam that made Michael think about him when he should be preparing for battle and had caused him to confront Lucifer without a second thought. Finding out that the teacup was just a teenager was somewhat of a shock to his moral sensibilities.
Adam stirred once more in Michael’s arms and made a noise low in his throat. Michael couldn’t resist the urge to run his fingers over the teenager’s hair in a soothing motion as the boy woke. “Mmm…” Adam hummed. His eyes opened and he smiled. “Michael?” Adam’s voice was deeper than it had been when he was a teacup, and it sent a tingle up Michael’s spine that he quickly tried to stifle. The former soldier watched intently as the memory of what had happened before he had passed out came back to Adam. Michael was about to speak to reassure him, when the teenager asked, “Where’s Dean?” Adam’s gaze filled with agony. Michael opened his mouth to tell the boy that his brother was still alive, but once again Adam cut him off before he could respond. “Fuck, if I had known that it was going to end this way anyway, I would have just killed the bastard off ages ago to spare us the last hundred and fifty years of grief.” Adam’s joke fell flat and his face crumpled. He took in a shuddering breath, running a hand over his face to cover up any emotions that might be visible there. Michael could see that Adam was deliberately avoiding looking over to where Dean still lay in a puddle of his own blood.
Michael tightened his arms around Adam in an instinctive response to his pain. “Dean is alive,” he told Adam. When blue eyes came up to meet his, Michael nodded and said, “Look for yourself. He’s still covered in quite a bit of blood, but considering the fact that he’s attached at the lips to my brother, I’d say he’ll make a full recovery.”
Adam’s head whipped around. The look of disgust on his face was nowhere near enough to cover up the joy. He turned back to Michael and their eyes met. “Why, Michael, did you just make a joke?” Adam smiled crookedly. “I didn’t know you had a sense of humor,” he teased.
Michael’s lips quirked slightly and he replied. “You never asked.”
Adam’s good humor seemed to fade a bit and he looked back over at Dean as though to make sure that his brother was still alive. Michael followed his gaze. Dean was definitely still alive, judging by the noises he and Castiel were making. Adam’s nose wrinkled as he turned away again, quicker this time. “Well, that’s just great,” he huffed. “Now, I have to deal with both of my brothers’ big gay romances.” His expression turned to one that could only be classified as horror. “And now that they’re human again, they’re going to be able to have sex.” His glanced over to where Sam and Gabriel were, then moaned piteously. “And my room’s right in the fucking middle of Sam and Dean’s.”
Something seemed to occur to Adam and Michael watched, fascinated, as a red flush colored Adam’s face and spread down his chest, then further to his… Michael quickly moved his gaze away from Adam’s body and felt a blush of his own redden his cheeks. The teenager didn’t seem to notice. He was looking down at his own body, his expression warring between embarrassment and awe. When Adam spoke, he attempted to keep his voice steady, but Michael heard the slight break as he said, “Why the fuck am I naked?”
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Sam woke up to the feeling of a naked body pressed against his. Damn, he must be dreaming. It had been so long since he had felt the sensation of skin on skin, so he kept his eyes closed. If this was a dream, it was a damn good one. Then he heard a voice whisper in his ear, “Sammy boy, we’re finally human…” Sam felt the hips above his give a short thrust and couldn’t stop his own from responding. “Oh, the things I’m going to do to you.”
Sam’s eyes snapped open. Gabriel had propped himself up on the larger man’s chest and was looking down at him with a smirk. Sam just stared up at him, completely befuddled. It had been so long since he had seen that face and the last time… The last time he had seen Gabriel’s face-his real, human face-Sam hadn’t been in love with him and hadn’t really given a shit what the man looked like. At the time, he had just been the annoying caretaker Sam’s father had employed and sure, Sam cared about him on some level just based on the fact that Gabriel had worked at the castle for so long. But really, the man had just been a servant. One that was particularly close to the family, sure, but a servant nonetheless.
Now, looking back on it with his current perspective, Sam couldn’t imagine how he had missed this. Sam loved Gabriel. And now that he was able to really see him, Sam loved the soft brown hair and the odd-colored eyes so much that he couldn’t understand just how he had overlooked Gabriel before.
Sam reached up with shaky hands and ran his fingers lightly over Gabriel’s face before pulling those lips down to meet his own. Over a hundred years of pent up sexual tension exploded in a single passionate embrace as Sam arced his body up into the kiss. Sam felt Gabriel’s tongue run over the seam of his lips and couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him as he opened up for his lover. This was so wonderful, to finally be able to do something as simple as kiss-a real kiss, rather than the approximation of kissing they had performed while under the curse. Sam would have to remember to thank Dean for finally telling the angel how he felt.
Dean. Sam went from passionate lover to grieving brother in the time it took that thought to process. What if the curse had been lifted, not because Dean and the angel had finally confessed their love for one another, but because Dean was dead? Sam opened his eyes and looked up at Gabriel. He could feel the moisture gathering and threatening to fall as he asked, “Dean?”
Gabriel looked worried for a moment, but when he heard Sam’s question, he snorted. “Loverboy’s over there being groped by an angel.” Gabriel leaned back down and leered at him. “Now, where were we?”
“Gabriel,” Sam whined. “Even if I didn’t want to make sure for myself that Dean and Adam are both all right, there’s no way in hell you would be able to talk me into having sex with you in front of them.” He struggled to push Gabriel off of him and stand.
Gabriel shifted slightly, but seemed to be making himself more comfortable rather than getting up; he pouted. “Why not?” he asked. “We’re already naked. It’s not like we have anything to hide now.”
Sam froze and looked down at himself. Sure, he had registered earlier that they had both been naked, but it had felt so damn good, he hadn’t questioned it. Now… Oh, God. Sam scrambled out from under Gabriel and righted himself before cupping both hands in front of himself in order to preserve what modesty he had left.
Sam looked around and took stock of what was happening in the rest of the room. Castiel was lying on top of his brother, Dean’s nakedness just barely covered by the angel’s shirt. They weren’t kissing or touching in any way that was inappropriate, but Sam could see the way Dean was cradling Castiel’s head with one of his hands and almost had to look away from the sheer intimacy of the moment. Sam looked quickly over to where Adam was struggling out of Michael’s arms. Okay, Sam thought. Surprising. Sam’s gaze moved to Bobby and their eyes met.
The man smiled kindly at him and said in a gruff voice, “Boy, you ain’t got nothing that the rest of us haven’t seen before.” Sam blushed and grinned sheepishly.
He couldn’t help but jump a second later when he felt someone pinch his ass. Sam turned and glared at Gabriel. The smaller man just smirked back at him. “What?” Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. “Your ass was feeling left out, so I thought I’d give you a hand.” He waggled his eyebrows a bit at that statement, but his eyes were serious.
“Oh, God,” Sam said, exasperated.
Gabriel’s leer came back in full force. “Not my name, but hey, tell you what, if you call me that later, I promise to come for you.”
“Gabriel!” The last Sam saw of his boyfriend was his naked ass as he hightailed it out of the room. Sam sighed and shot his brothers apologetic looks. Dean looked up at him long enough to nod, before going back to stroking the angel’s hair with his fingertips. Adam didn’t seem to notice him at all. Instead, he was examining himself and exclaiming, “Finally, I’ve got my dick back!” As he went chasing after Gabriel, Sam thought those words summed the whole situation up perfectly.
Chapter Eight | Masterpost | Chapter Ten
Author: Miss Meh
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel, Adam/Michael
Rating: R for swearing and implied sexual situations
Warnings: AU, copious amounts of fluff and sexual innuendo, fusion with Beauty and the Beast
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 5146
Status: WIP
Summary: His wings always seemed to be the problem, Castiel figured. But when he and his family move to Sioux Falls and he meets a Beast locked away in a castle, could his wings be the solution?
A/N: I really want you guys like this one. The whole story has been leading up to this, so I hope it lives up to you guys’ expectations.
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Chapter Nine: Like a gift from the heavens
It was easy to tell
It was love from above
That could save me from hell.
--“Into the Night” Santana ft. Chad Kroeger
Adam stared at his brother’s body in shock. Dean was dead. Dean-the one who had taken care of him and Sam when they were little, had fed them, clothed them, taught them how to defend themselves. His older brother was dead. What would he and Sam do without him? He let out a choked cry and his focus turned to the man who had killed his brother. Why was this piece of scum still alive while Dean was bleeding out on the floor? He wanted to do something about it but he was a teacup. There was nothing he could do.
Michael didn’t have such limitations. The man entered Adam’s line of sight and threw himself at Lucifer. Michael had lost his sword at some point-most likely when Dean had pushed him out of the way, but Lucifer’s sword was still impaling Dean so Adam figured they were pretty evenly matched. Michael threw the first punch to Lucifer’s stomach, causing the other man to double over with the force of the blow. Lucifer gave as good as he got, however, and soon it was Michael backing away, a hand pressed to his stomach. Inevitably drawn back together, they clashed again and again, neither one gaining the upper hand.
The fight seemed to go on forever, but in reality it probably only lasted a few minutes. Adam didn’t want to be watching this, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away. The two men moved nearer and nearer the edge of the balcony. The teacup could see where this was going and he heard Bobby shout a warning, but neither of the combatants heeded it. As Michael and Lucifer fell over the edge into oblivion, Adam heard himself give another wordless yell of agony.
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Bobby was operating in a state of profound grief. How was it possible that he had just lost both of his sons in the space of ten minutes? He felt tears welling in his eyes. What would his wife have said if she were still here? He had let his boys go without a fight and that just felt wrong. He probably wouldn’t have been able to do anything to save Castiel, but Michael… He could have helped. Instead he had been laboring over the body of the Beast, who was well beyond Bobby’s shoddy skills with first aid. By the time he had looked up and yelled at the idjits to watch the fuck out, it had been too late. They had gone over.
He choked back a sob. His boys… Bobby remembered Michael running up to him with a crudely crafted bow and arrow when he was ten-the first of the many weapons the boy had made as a child. The pride on his son’s tiny face stood out in Bobby’s memories even all these years later. And now Bobby would never see that proud smile again. He felt the first tears begin to spill from his eyes as he recalled the solemn satisfaction in Castiel’s expression when his youngest had read to him from a dry Latin tome that Bobby himself had trouble translating. He and Michael would never be able to exchange exasperated looks whenever Castiel said something neither one of them understood. He would never…
Bobby’s train of thought was cut off when he heard Sam call his name. He attempted to compose himself and push all thoughts not related to the present from his mind. Bobby especially didn’t want to think about the three bodies that were now lying on the ground below the tower. He shook his head and passed a hand over his face to remove the moisture from his cheeks before turning back to the clock and the candlestick next to him.
Sam had removed the sword and Gabriel was attempting to fill the wound on his front with wax. It would actually have worked out pretty well if Dean weren’t bleeding out from the back too. The candlestick wasn’t giving up though. Bobby supposed that it was probably the sobs of his lover that was making him continue more than any hope for Dean’s survival. The Beast was only breathing shallowly at the moment and judging by the spreading puddle of blood, he wouldn’t be breathing for much longer.
He felt another pang of sadness at this thought. No, he didn’t really know Dean all that well but Bobby was sure that Castiel had loved the Beast. He could only be somewhat grateful that his son wouldn’t know what had happened. Bobby still felt the pain caused by the loss of his wife and it had been over twenty years since she had died. Besides, Bobby had at least been able to say that he had no regrets when it came to her. He had a feeling that Castiel wouldn’t have been able to say the same. Bobby hadn’t been kidding when he told Dean that Castiel was oblivious. The two probably hadn’t even admitted their feelings for each other.
Bobby heard the sound of wings behind him and spun around, barely daring to hope that it could be… But it was. Castiel’s head rose above the rail of the balcony, his dark wings pumping, and his brother clutched in his arms. Bobby couldn’t hold back a sob this time. Both of his boys were alive, the idjits.
Bobby’s joy didn’t last very long. When Castiel saw Dean, he dropped his brother face first onto the balcony and rushed to the Beast’s side. Bobby could hear him speaking but he turned away, not wanting to see his son’s grief. He watched Adam and Michael instead. The teacup had hopped up onto the man’s lap the minute Michael had rolled over onto his back and sat up. Bobby sighed. Well, he supposed if he could accept having one gay son, two wasn’t much more of a stretch. He had been watching them earlier and had seen that there was something there. Whatever it was, it seemed to be amplified now by both Adam’s simultaneous grief in the face of his brother’s death and his relief that Michael was alive. Bobby watched as Michael’s hands came up to hold the distraught teacup, his fingers stroking Adam’s sides in an effort to comfort. He wondered if they were as oblivious as their respective siblings.
His thoughts were distracted as he noticed glowing from the corner of his eye. He turned just as the golden light washed over them all.
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When Castiel had been hit by Lucifer’s blade, it had been the worst pain he had ever felt. Now, looking down at Dean’s body, he knew that this was a hundred times worse. Castiel could heal from flesh wounds, bruises, and broken bones in a relatively small amount of time thanks to his angelic healing abilities, but this… There was no healing from a broken heart and this was one Castiel knew that he would never recover from.
Castiel was very constant in both his emotions and his actions. Changes didn’t come easy to him, so when he made life altering decisions they tended to stick. His life had changed quite a bit over the last year, but nothing had affected him with as much intensity as Dean had. Castiel had never told the man how he felt about him and now, he would never know how Dean felt about him. In that moment, he had his first experience with regret and it made him mourn all the more for what could have been.
He dropped to his knees beside Dean, heedless of the blood that was coating his pant legs. He was crying but he couldn’t bring himself to even attempt to stop the tears. Castiel noticed Gabriel leading Sam away from them, but wasn’t able to muster up the energy to acknowledge them. At that moment, Dean seemed to be his whole world and it was all crumbling around him. He placed a hand on Dean’s chest, felt that he was still breathing, if only just barely. Castiel leaned forward when he saw Dean’s eyes flutter open.
“Dean!” Dean didn’t answer, just looked at the angel through hazy eyes. Castiel ran his fingers through the hair on Dean’s cheek and rested his forehead against the Beast’s. “Dean,” he whispered. “You cannot die. I will not let you.” He ran one hand down Dean’s chest to place it over the wound on his stomach and attempted to push the healing energy he had used earlier from his own body into Dean’s. When nothing happened, he closed his eyes and concentrated harder. His eyes flew open, wide with despair. “Why is it not working?” Dean gave him one last heartbreaking look before his eyes rolled back. Castiel moved his hand up and over Dean’s heart and felt its final beat under his fingers. “Dean,” he whispered. “Please do not die. Please.” Tears made tracks down his face as he sobbed, some of them falling onto Dean’s cheeks. “Please,” he murmured softly once more. “I love you.”
He moved his head down to Dean’s right shoulder and buried his face in the fur on his neck when Dean didn’t respond. He didn’t see Dean start to glow until he heard Sam’s gasp from behind him and looked up. He jerked back instinctively at first. What was happening? When Dean’s shoulders started to lifting from the floor, Castiel moved forward again to cover Dean’s body with his own. The angel didn’t know what was going on, but there was no way he was going to let something take Dean away from him-even if Dean wasn’t in there anymore.
His hand drifted up to Dean’s left shoulder and gripped it tight. Light started to pour from the area where Castiel’s hand met Dean’s fur. Castiel had a moment to be surprised about that before his vision blurred and the world faded into darkness.
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When Dean opened his eyes, he was sitting on a lakeside dock, Castiel seated next to him. The angel’s wings were stretched out behind him, fluttering in the breeze. When Cas looked over and saw Dean, his face widened into the largest, most expressive smile Dean had ever seen on the angel. “Dean.” Castiel reached out and brushed his fingers over Dean’s face and the man was startled when he felt the sensation of flesh on flesh. It was one he hadn’t felt in over a century.
He raised his hands and simply looked at them. Fingers, no claws. He wiggled said fingers, feeling the way they moved, and then turned his gaze to the angel. “Cas,” he choked out. Cas leaned forward and rested their foreheads together. “Cas, what’s going on? I thought you were dead.” Dean’s tone was haunted; he didn’t particularly want to think on that subject, but he had to ask.
Dean brought one hand up and rubbed a palm over the rough stubble on Cas’s cheek. The angel turned his head into Dean’s fingers and let out a sound that was something like a purr. “Not dead,” Cas said. At Dean’s questioning look, he elaborated. “A knife is not sufficient to kill an angel and neither is a fall of any magnitude. My healing abilities compensate for any injuries I might sustain.” The angel was rubbing his cheek against Dean’s palm, still making that almost-purr, and it was distracting. It wasn’t distracting enough for Dean to miss the implications of Cas’s statement. He was grateful that he didn’t have to worry about his angel dying on him.
A thought occurred to him. “Hey, Cas, where are we?” Dean asked, his eyes searching the scenery for some clue. “And why am I human?” The angel blushed and Dean was instantly curious. Cas obviously knew something of what was going on, but would he tell Dean? “C’mon, Cas, what’s going on?”
The angel met his eyes. The color still in his cheeks, but he lifted his chin and declared, “You were dying-most likely already dead-and I…” He tilted his head and looked Dean up and down as though to judge how receptive the man would be to this information. Whatever he saw, he continued, “I told you not to die because I loved you.”
Cas’s blue eyed gaze seemed to grow even more intense as he waited for an answer. Dean couldn’t look away from it. “Cas, I love you too,” he confessed. Then he frowned. “Wait a minute, if you love me, why did you refuse my marriage proposal? I get the first time-I didn’t do it right-but what about the last time?”
The angel pulled his head back a bit and gave Dean an affectionately patronizing look. “Dean, what did I tell you both times you asked?”
Dean grimaced and thought for a moment before responding, “‘I am no angel.’ Cas, I don’t get it. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
Cas stroked the side of Dean’s face in an attempt to soothe his frustration and Dean could feel his emotions calm under the angel’s touch. “And what was the first thing I ever said to you?”
Dean’s answer was quicker this time. He had replayed that first conversation in his head many times. “‘I am no angel.’ Cas, what the fuck’s your point?”
Cas didn’t tell him. He just patiently asked another question. “What did I tell you in response to your question immediately after that?”
Dean looked away from Cas and spoke slowly to make sure that he recalled it accurately. “I asked you what you were if you weren’t an angel and you said…” He hesitated. “You said that you didn’t like being called an angel.” Dean’s eyes moved back to meet the angel’s. “So, you’re telling me that you rejected me because I called you Angel?”
Cas’s voice was shy and uncertain when he spoke. “I did not want you to marry me only because I am an angel.”
Dean swallowed and gave Cas a guilty look. He hadn’t meant it to come off that way, but he could see how it had. Well, he had already admitted his love for the guy once. Doing it again couldn’t hurt. He held Cas’s gaze with his own as he answered. “So, if I said, ‘Cas, I love you way too fucking much for my own good. Will you please just fucking marry me already?’, you would say?”
A joyful smile spread across Cas’s face but his voice was as deadpan as ever when he replied, “Yes, of course, Dean.”
Dean’s grin matched the angel’s as he pulled Cas into a hug. He buried his face in Cas’s neck and whispered, “This is great and all, but we’re dreaming right? I think it’s time for us to wake up now.” Dean closed his eyes and hoped that this hadn’t all been the wishful fantasy of a dying man. When he opened his eyes and saw a bright light, he abruptly slammed them back shut. “Please not heaven,” he murmured. “I’ll do anything, just send me back to Cas. Please.”
“Dean,” a deep voice commanded his attention. “Dean, open your eyes.”
For once, Dean did as he was told. When Cas’s face swam into focus, Dean was glad he had listened. Dean wrapped his arms around his angel and dragged him down into his arms. “Cas,” he gasped. “We’re both alive. Did that…” He allowed the angel to lift his head so that their eyes could meet. “Did that really… On the dock…”
Cas seemed to grasp what Dean was saying. He nodded quickly and began running his hands over Dean’s skin to check for the wounds that had been there before Dean had died. As Cas’s fingertips passed over his chest, Dean couldn’t keep a groan from escaping his lips. The angel looked down at him in alarm. Dean licked his lips. “Cas, I don’t think you should do that out here. Wait ‘til we’re not surrounded by our families at the very least.” He thought very hard about Sam and Gabriel and… Okay, that was just disgusting. Crisis averted.
Cas didn’t seem to get it, but he stopped feeling Dean up at least. Dean sat up and looked down at himself. Damn, it was good to be human again. Why the fuck was he naked though? Not that he had ever really been all that modest, but still, he hadn’t even seen his own skin in so long he could barely remember what it looked like. He sure as hell didn’t want everybody and their brother to take stock of it before he had a chance to. When he looked back up, he saw that Cas had removed his shirt and was laying it over his lap.
“It does not particularly bother me,” Cas explained as he arranged the fabric. Dean couldn’t help shuddering at the thought of Cas’s hands being so close to his dick. “However, I have read that human etiquette dictates that one must be clothed at all times when in the presence of humans with whom they do not wish to copulate. I would be somewhat disturbed should anyone in this room fall into that category with regards to you.”
Dean laughed at Cas’s awkwardness. “Thank you, Cas,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”
Cas just stared at Dean for a moment before leaning forward and kissing him. It was everything and nothing like Dean had expected. Cas had no fucking clue what he was doing; Dean had expected that. He also found that he didn’t give a shit and that surprised him. He lifted a hand to push Cas’s chin up into the right position then took Cas’s bottom lip between his own to suck on it. When the angel whimpered, Dean knew he was lost.
When Cas passed a hand over Dean’s left shoulder, Dean couldn’t suppress a flinch. Cas pulled back instinctively and hell, if he didn’t want to know what the fuck had caused that flare of pain, Dean would have kissed the angel again just to see more of that debauched look on his face. He almost gave in and leaned back toward Cas, but then the angel passed his hand over that area on his shoulder again and Dean just had to look. He turned his head to the side.
There was a scar on his shoulder that hadn’t been there before. It was red and raw and livid and that alone gave Dean pause. But what really alarmed him was the fact that it was in the shape of a handprint. Not just any handprint though. Dean watched as Cas lowered his hand and fit his directly over its twin. The burst of feeling that swept through him at the contact was just as shocking as the pain. Dean looked away from his shoulder to look up at Cas.
Cas appeared to be just as dazed as Dean was. He licked his lips and Dean couldn’t keep himself from tracking the movement. When Castiel didn’t speak, Dean opened his mouth and said the first thing that came to mind. “What the fuck?”
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When the golden light faded away, Michael was left with his arms wrapped around the unconscious and naked form of a teenaged male. He swept his eyes from side to side and, when there was no teacup to be found, concluded that this must be Adam. It appeared that Castiel had made it in time to save Dean Winchester. A quick look around him revealed several more bare male bodies slumped in seemingly lifeless heaps on the floor. One of the men was covered almost completely by the angel and his wings, and so Michael felt it safe to assume that this one was Dean. Whatever had happened, it would seem that Castiel had managed to simultaneously prevent Dean from bleeding out and revert the Winchesters back to their human forms. Michael wondered how exactly this had come about, but before he could think anymore about it, the body in his arms shifted and his attention was drawn back to Adam.
Michael took the opportunity to study the former teacup while he was still asleep. His eyes traced from the light-colored hair that lay messily over the boy’s forehead down to the smooth jaw line and full lips. Adam was an undeniably beautiful young man if one were to look at him from a purely aesthetic point of view, and Michael, though he hated to admit it, was having a problem keeping his scrutiny platonic. The boy-and he did look like a boy, no matter how much he might protest when he was awake-was younger than Michael had pictured. He supposed that it was only natural that Adam should act older considering the fact that the Winchester brothers had been trapped in the castle for longer than Michael had been alive, but… Michael sighed. It was one thing to know something logically, but it was completely different to see it with his own eyes.
As a soldier, Michael had plenty of experience hiding his emotions, but that didn’t mean that he was completely oblivious to them himself. Michael was man enough to admit that he was developing feelings for Adam. There had just been something about Adam that made Michael think about him when he should be preparing for battle and had caused him to confront Lucifer without a second thought. Finding out that the teacup was just a teenager was somewhat of a shock to his moral sensibilities.
Adam stirred once more in Michael’s arms and made a noise low in his throat. Michael couldn’t resist the urge to run his fingers over the teenager’s hair in a soothing motion as the boy woke. “Mmm…” Adam hummed. His eyes opened and he smiled. “Michael?” Adam’s voice was deeper than it had been when he was a teacup, and it sent a tingle up Michael’s spine that he quickly tried to stifle. The former soldier watched intently as the memory of what had happened before he had passed out came back to Adam. Michael was about to speak to reassure him, when the teenager asked, “Where’s Dean?” Adam’s gaze filled with agony. Michael opened his mouth to tell the boy that his brother was still alive, but once again Adam cut him off before he could respond. “Fuck, if I had known that it was going to end this way anyway, I would have just killed the bastard off ages ago to spare us the last hundred and fifty years of grief.” Adam’s joke fell flat and his face crumpled. He took in a shuddering breath, running a hand over his face to cover up any emotions that might be visible there. Michael could see that Adam was deliberately avoiding looking over to where Dean still lay in a puddle of his own blood.
Michael tightened his arms around Adam in an instinctive response to his pain. “Dean is alive,” he told Adam. When blue eyes came up to meet his, Michael nodded and said, “Look for yourself. He’s still covered in quite a bit of blood, but considering the fact that he’s attached at the lips to my brother, I’d say he’ll make a full recovery.”
Adam’s head whipped around. The look of disgust on his face was nowhere near enough to cover up the joy. He turned back to Michael and their eyes met. “Why, Michael, did you just make a joke?” Adam smiled crookedly. “I didn’t know you had a sense of humor,” he teased.
Michael’s lips quirked slightly and he replied. “You never asked.”
Adam’s good humor seemed to fade a bit and he looked back over at Dean as though to make sure that his brother was still alive. Michael followed his gaze. Dean was definitely still alive, judging by the noises he and Castiel were making. Adam’s nose wrinkled as he turned away again, quicker this time. “Well, that’s just great,” he huffed. “Now, I have to deal with both of my brothers’ big gay romances.” His expression turned to one that could only be classified as horror. “And now that they’re human again, they’re going to be able to have sex.” His glanced over to where Sam and Gabriel were, then moaned piteously. “And my room’s right in the fucking middle of Sam and Dean’s.”
Something seemed to occur to Adam and Michael watched, fascinated, as a red flush colored Adam’s face and spread down his chest, then further to his… Michael quickly moved his gaze away from Adam’s body and felt a blush of his own redden his cheeks. The teenager didn’t seem to notice. He was looking down at his own body, his expression warring between embarrassment and awe. When Adam spoke, he attempted to keep his voice steady, but Michael heard the slight break as he said, “Why the fuck am I naked?”
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Sam woke up to the feeling of a naked body pressed against his. Damn, he must be dreaming. It had been so long since he had felt the sensation of skin on skin, so he kept his eyes closed. If this was a dream, it was a damn good one. Then he heard a voice whisper in his ear, “Sammy boy, we’re finally human…” Sam felt the hips above his give a short thrust and couldn’t stop his own from responding. “Oh, the things I’m going to do to you.”
Sam’s eyes snapped open. Gabriel had propped himself up on the larger man’s chest and was looking down at him with a smirk. Sam just stared up at him, completely befuddled. It had been so long since he had seen that face and the last time… The last time he had seen Gabriel’s face-his real, human face-Sam hadn’t been in love with him and hadn’t really given a shit what the man looked like. At the time, he had just been the annoying caretaker Sam’s father had employed and sure, Sam cared about him on some level just based on the fact that Gabriel had worked at the castle for so long. But really, the man had just been a servant. One that was particularly close to the family, sure, but a servant nonetheless.
Now, looking back on it with his current perspective, Sam couldn’t imagine how he had missed this. Sam loved Gabriel. And now that he was able to really see him, Sam loved the soft brown hair and the odd-colored eyes so much that he couldn’t understand just how he had overlooked Gabriel before.
Sam reached up with shaky hands and ran his fingers lightly over Gabriel’s face before pulling those lips down to meet his own. Over a hundred years of pent up sexual tension exploded in a single passionate embrace as Sam arced his body up into the kiss. Sam felt Gabriel’s tongue run over the seam of his lips and couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him as he opened up for his lover. This was so wonderful, to finally be able to do something as simple as kiss-a real kiss, rather than the approximation of kissing they had performed while under the curse. Sam would have to remember to thank Dean for finally telling the angel how he felt.
Dean. Sam went from passionate lover to grieving brother in the time it took that thought to process. What if the curse had been lifted, not because Dean and the angel had finally confessed their love for one another, but because Dean was dead? Sam opened his eyes and looked up at Gabriel. He could feel the moisture gathering and threatening to fall as he asked, “Dean?”
Gabriel looked worried for a moment, but when he heard Sam’s question, he snorted. “Loverboy’s over there being groped by an angel.” Gabriel leaned back down and leered at him. “Now, where were we?”
“Gabriel,” Sam whined. “Even if I didn’t want to make sure for myself that Dean and Adam are both all right, there’s no way in hell you would be able to talk me into having sex with you in front of them.” He struggled to push Gabriel off of him and stand.
Gabriel shifted slightly, but seemed to be making himself more comfortable rather than getting up; he pouted. “Why not?” he asked. “We’re already naked. It’s not like we have anything to hide now.”
Sam froze and looked down at himself. Sure, he had registered earlier that they had both been naked, but it had felt so damn good, he hadn’t questioned it. Now… Oh, God. Sam scrambled out from under Gabriel and righted himself before cupping both hands in front of himself in order to preserve what modesty he had left.
Sam looked around and took stock of what was happening in the rest of the room. Castiel was lying on top of his brother, Dean’s nakedness just barely covered by the angel’s shirt. They weren’t kissing or touching in any way that was inappropriate, but Sam could see the way Dean was cradling Castiel’s head with one of his hands and almost had to look away from the sheer intimacy of the moment. Sam looked quickly over to where Adam was struggling out of Michael’s arms. Okay, Sam thought. Surprising. Sam’s gaze moved to Bobby and their eyes met.
The man smiled kindly at him and said in a gruff voice, “Boy, you ain’t got nothing that the rest of us haven’t seen before.” Sam blushed and grinned sheepishly.
He couldn’t help but jump a second later when he felt someone pinch his ass. Sam turned and glared at Gabriel. The smaller man just smirked back at him. “What?” Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. “Your ass was feeling left out, so I thought I’d give you a hand.” He waggled his eyebrows a bit at that statement, but his eyes were serious.
“Oh, God,” Sam said, exasperated.
Gabriel’s leer came back in full force. “Not my name, but hey, tell you what, if you call me that later, I promise to come for you.”
“Gabriel!” The last Sam saw of his boyfriend was his naked ass as he hightailed it out of the room. Sam sighed and shot his brothers apologetic looks. Dean looked up at him long enough to nod, before going back to stroking the angel’s hair with his fingertips. Adam didn’t seem to notice him at all. Instead, he was examining himself and exclaiming, “Finally, I’ve got my dick back!” As he went chasing after Gabriel, Sam thought those words summed the whole situation up perfectly.
Chapter Eight | Masterpost | Chapter Ten