Unexpected Destinies Chapter 88
Title: Unexpected Destinies
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 4,094
Summary: Dean spends some time on his baby.
PAST
Sweat rolled down the side of Dean's face and he huffed in annoyance, even in the shade underneath the Impala it was surprisingly hot. He'd hoped for better weather this far South- hell it was the reason he'd come to Florida in March in the first place- but this was getting ridiculous! If he'd known the South was going to get a heat wave like this, he'd have stuck much further North. Going from mid to high forties to low to mid eighties in the space of forty-eight hours was not his idea of a good time. Not with his crappy skin, all pale and freckled. Unlike his father and brother who'd always gone brown in the sun, he went red no matter how much suntan lotion he used or how careful he was. It was the one thing he'd gotten from his mother that he could do without.
It was amazing how often his mother had been on his mind today. Dean knew that it was due to the fact that he was only wearing a wife beater over his jeans which made the silver protection bracelet on his right arm stand out starkly against his skin, but it still surprised him. And it wasn't just now either, he'd found that she'd come to mind more often at night as well when he'd taken off his layers of outdoor clothing for something more comfortable. He liked it even if all of the memories were bittersweet due to the grief and horror that was always close to the surface whenever she was on his mind.
Though those memories could be depressing and sad at times, there were also plenty of good ones in there too and that was exactly what Dean needed just now. Not only was it a blessed relief from all of the mind numbing research that he'd been doing as of late, reading countless books in several different languages (and yeah, a part of him still couldn't quite believe that!), but it was also a distraction from the decidedly disconcerting accounts he was currently working his way through. Just a few days ago Raphael had shown up in his motel room with a set of books in Enochian. Just the sight of them had been enough to make his stomach drop and that had been before he'd learned what they were about.
Dean could still remember what Castiel had said to him back when they'd first gotten together again, that various angels would often write personal accounts of major events so that others could learn from them and hopefully avoid similar mistakes if there were such lessons to be learned from what had transpired. As Lucifer's rebellion had, obviously, been one of the most important events in angelic history there had been a ton of accounts written about it from all different angles and points of view. The longest and most important had, of course, been those of the archangels but that didn't mean that any of the others were worth overlooking in case they contained any hidden gems of information that had seemed insignificant at the time but were now of import to them.
Needlessly to say, though, none of his archangels were particularly keen to go over those accounts despite how much time had passed since then. If there was one thing that Dean could understand, it was the desire to leave those types of memories buried and untouched so he'd readily agreed to be the one to go through the accounts that Michael, Raphael or Castiel had not ever read before. Not only did it make him feel like he could do something in return for them after all that they had done and still continued to do so easily for him, but he also thought that it was probably a good idea that he know more about what really happened back then instead of the mythical tales that had somehow worked their way to Earth or been entirely fabricated.
Despite that initial drive, Dean found it hard going, the painstaking detail and sheer emotion in the accounts made them difficult to read. If he'd ever thought that all angels had been completely emotionless he'd definitely learned otherwise by now. True, he was reading up on what was probably the harshest time in their history, but the shock, betrayal, pain and anguish were all real and struck far too close to home for his liking. Still, he'd never been one to give up on anything just because it hurt or was hard so he was determined to finish the task, it just might take him a bit longer then he'd originally thought it would.
With a few final adjustments, Dean finished his current task and smiled, petting his baby's undercarriage. There that should make her run better. The guilt he'd felt earlier for neglecting her so much lately was starting to ease as he was slowly giving her a complete overhaul. Much as he wanted to simply lose himself in the Impala and her care for a day, he knew that he couldn't. Well, he could, but then he'd have to do nothing but research for days on end to make up for it and that was something that he knew that he wouldn't be able to do. Not only would he be looking for a gun with which to blow his brains out, but he'd start to lose focus and potentially miss important information which was something they simply couldn't afford right now. No, it was far better to parse the research with working on his baby so that he stayed sharp.
His smile soon vanished as Dean remembered that this was the end of the break he'd allowed himself for today and that he'd now have to get back to his research. With a sigh, he gathered the oil, rags and tools he'd been using and pushed himself off of his baby so that he rolled out from underneath her and into the sun. Getting up, he grabbed his bottle of water and got to his feet. The Impala gleamed in the sun from the thorough wash and wax job he'd given her upon first arriving in the sunshine state. Normally he'd have waited to do that until after he was done with the rest of the work he had to do on her, but he hadn't been able to resist given how warm the weather had been that day. Now, of course, he wished he'd waited until today.
Dean felt content as his eyes ran over his baby, but then they stopped on the nearly spotless windscreen and a large smile graced his lips. It wasn't so much the windscreen itself as what he could see through it that made him even happier than he'd already been. The reason for that was twofold. First, he didn't think he'd ever be able to look at the Christmas ornament he'd had the store clerk transform from a mere angel into a miniature Castiel without recalling that wonderful Christmas and since he'd hung it off his review mirror, he could see the back of it now. Second, was because he could see the little angelic bear he'd gotten his lover sitting in the passenger seat pressed snuggly up against the seatbelt. Truth be told, he'd been hurt and a bit angry when he'd first found it in the Impala the day after he'd given it to Castiel, but then he'd noticed how deliberately it had been placed as if to ensure that it wouldn't fall or slide across the seat when he drove.
Once Dean had spotted that, he'd managed to calm down enough to think about things more clearly and when he'd done that, he'd become happy and almost honored in a way. He'd honestly never expected for his lover to keep the silly thing and it had only been Castiel's seeming outright rejection that had stung, but then he'd realized that was almost entirely the opposite of reality. His angel had decided that he wanted to keep it but since it was just a bit too big and bulky to carry around on him, Castiel had done the next best thing he could think of and put it in the Impala. Any doubts he might have had that his reasoning was correct had all vanished the next time his angel had appeared in the car with him. The way Castiel had picked up and held the bear, even after he'd taken a chocolate kiss from its tube, had proven that the stuffed animal hadn't been abandoned, it had merely been tucked away somewhere his lover considered it to be safe. That said place happened to be his baby pleased him greatly and he'd bought a large bag of kisses so he could fill up the tube the Cas!bear held when it was nearly empty. Doing that the first time was when he'd noticed that his angel had mojoed the tube as it was far too cold for the weather.
His smile turned softer as Dean thought of the time that Castiel had appeared in his room already holding the bear. The easy familiarity that spoke of and how readily his lover used the Impala made him feel all warm and mushy inside (not that he'd ever admit to it!). Yeah, he knew his angel probably zapped into and out of her instead of using the key he'd given Castiel for Christmas, but it still pleased him how his lover thought to use her at all and, most importantly, that he felt comfortable doing so without asking for permission beforehand. The Impala had been an integral of his life for as far back as he could remember that she was practically a part of him and he knew that his angel understood that.
"Wow, nice wheels!"
The voice was carefree and female and Dean glanced up to see two young women approaching. He smiled while a hand proudly reached down to touch his baby's hood. See, he wasn't even halfway through all the work he needed to do on her and already she was being admired again.
"Thanks," Dean replied, glancing back at them.
The brunette frowned at him and Dean was at a loss for why but his attention quickly shifted to her friend as the blond stepped forward, still looking at his baby.
"My dad's got an Impala," she said. "But his doesn't look nearly as good as yours despite the fact that he never drives it."
Now it was Dean's turn to frown as he thought of never driving his baby. "I don't got that, why not drive her?"
"Her," the woman laughed, wandering around to the driver's side and leaning down to look inside. "That's exactly what my dad calls his car. He says it's 'cause he doesn't want to risk damaging her."
"I guess, though it's not good for them never to be driven. They weren't made to just sit around doing nothing."
"Either way, it doesn't look like you've ever had to worry about that."
"What? Damaging her? Unfortunately she's taken quite a lot of damage over the years," Dean replied and winced at the memory of taking a tire iron to her trunk. He petted the warm metal beneath his hand some more in a silent apology. "I just rebuilt her afterwards."
"Really?"
"Miriam," the brunette said. "We need to go."
Dean only caught part of the look she sent Miriam, but it was enough to know that he was missing something. Although they'd both been smiling and seemed friendly at first, the brunette now clearly wanted to go, he'd seen that look often enough on Sammy's face over the years when his little brother thought he was just wasting his time or Sam disapproved of what he was doing. He pretended not to notice as the brunette pointedly glanced at the front of the car- the Cas!bear if he wasn't mistaken- and then down at him- his right wrist he realized- where his mother's bracelet now hung.
Miriam, though, was having none of it and came around the front of the Impala towards him. "I bet you're good with your hands," she purred.
Oh shit, she'd been flirting with him, Dean realized with a start. And now that he'd figured that out, he couldn't believe that he hadn't caught onto it immediately: the compliment to his baby, the way she'd walked over to the Impala, swinging her hips more then necessary, how she'd leaned forwards so he could look down her top if he wanted to, her playful manner, to say nothing of how she was dressed. He wouldn't be surprised if they'd planned to head into town and stay there until well into the evening or morning.
Something must have shown on his face as Miriam halted her advance and suddenly looked uncertain.
"I'm flattered, sweetheart," Dean said, quickly recovering from his shock. How the hell had he missed all of that? "Really, but I'm seeing someone."
For a moment it looked like Miriam might try again anyway, but then her friend stepped up beside her and hissed something into Miriam's ear. The woman's eyes widened comically before her eyes flicked down to his wrist. Dean frowned again, trying to figure out what was going on before it suddenly hit him. Between the stuffed animal in the car, the decidedly feminine bracelet he was wearing and his complete lack of reaction- no, realization- of Miriam's advances, they thought he was gay! His gut instinct was to protest and to both deny and correct that assumption. He wasn't gay, he was bi, always had been too in point of fact. It was an important distinction as far as he was concerned and he'd always hated it when people had just assumed that he was gay whenever he'd been seen with a guy. It just wasn't true, he liked both guys and girls and if Castiel had to suddenly change vessel for whatever reason and the new one was female, then the only thing that would make him hesitate would be the consideration for the woman his lover was inhabiting. The rest, though weird and no doubt awkward at first, wouldn't cause him any hang-ups.
This time, though, Dean suppressed the reaction and instead gave the two women a tight smile. There was no point trying to correct their assumption as he had no desire to pursue anything with either of them and was actually in a long-term relationship with what most humans would see as a man.
"Don't take any heed of them," Dean murmured to his baby as the women hurried off without a backwards glance. "They're too shallow to appreciate your true beauty."
Not at all like Castiel, Dean noted as his eyes fell on the small stuffed toy in the passenger seat again. His head tilted in an eerie imitation of his lover as he realized that he'd yet to introduce his angel to car sex. It was unforgivable, really, and high time that they christened the Impala together and if the wording caused a wicked grin to cross his face at what clown guy and the others at the Vatican might think of that, well then he figured he was entitled to his little pleasures.
/
There were clouds everywhere, dark and gray, threatening; ominous. Thunder rumbled all around him and electricity crackled all along his being though there was no actual lightening just yet. It was only a matter of time though as he could taste the storm in the air and everything was balanced on a knife's edge, just a hair away from exploding with truly terrifying violence. He didn't want it to as he feared that this was one storm from which they might never recover. It could tear them all apart leaving only scattered and broken remnants in its wake when it blew over.
If it blew over.
Wind that at once was and wasn't wind lashed out at him, trying to knock him off course, but he flew on, determined. It tore at his wings but his will was stronger. His fear was stronger. Fear, determination and betrayal.
The betrayal hit him with all of the force of a nuke and Dean gasped while the world around him flickered in and out of existence. No! No, he didn't want this, didn't want to experience it again. This was Sam, Ruby, Lilith and Lucifer. It was lies and silence and vengeance. It was deliberate deception, feelings of superiority, self-righteousness and condescension. It was demon blood and addiction and Sam knew best. It was betrayal at its worst. It was Hell and Cicero and the Campbells. It was lies, omission and thoughts of his little brother in Hell long after Sam had gotten out. It was Bobby and Sam and families torn apart. It was trying and trying and trying, always trying, and always failing. It was not being met halfway or even partway or at all.
It was deception, disrespect and betrayal. It came out of nowhere, unexpected, unforeseen. Unthinkable. It was disobedience, it was rebellion, it was impossible. It couldn't be. Not him, not his little brother, not the one that he'd looked after and loved his whole life. The one he cherished above all others and would have done almost anything for. Almost anything, but not this. Never this and how his brother could even think it, even contemplate it, let alone follow through on it, act on it, he couldn't fathom.
It was shock, it was anger, it was disbelief.
It was outrage and pure terror.
"Got you to trust me in the end, didn't I?" Ruby gloated, suddenly appearing before him, flickering between the two humans she'd possessed- blond, black, blond, black- like some bad special effect.
"He never was the brightest."
Dean felt ice flood him at his father's familiar voice and it got both worse and better as he turned to find the older hunter staring at him with Azazel's distinctive yellow eyes.
"He's an artist with a razor, though," Alistair's voice hissed in his ear as hands settled possessively on his hips from behind. "Boy can make even the most recalcitrant of souls scream. Isn't that right, Deano?"
It was pain and fury and resignation. Knowledge and denial at once, each warring with the other to outdo themselves and cause him more hurt than the others though he did not know how that was even possible. It was something the likes of which he'd never experienced before, never had any need or cause to.
"You're too weak. You're holding me back."
It was Sammy this time, but as he'd been that day they'd managed to save Jimmy's family due to Castiel's timely intervention; mouth covered in blood and not the least bit repentant or ashamed, just resigned and annoyed at having been caught red handed. Or was that red mouthed in this case?
"Dean."
The single word that he'd probably heard hundreds of thousands of times before in his life now froze him to his very core and he screamed at himself not to turn towards it, not to look and be shattered into a million little pieces, but it was useless. He couldn't seem to control himself anymore, turning to face the speaker of that voice he loved so very much. There was some relief when he found Castiel to look as he always did with no horrific changes, but appearances could only do so much, it was more the words he feared, those could cut and tear and shred just as deeply and painfully as anything he'd done with a razor in Hell. They could-
Two fingers pressed against his forehead.
/
Dean gasped, bolting upright in bed, clothes sticking to him, drenched in sweat and eyes darting about wildly. Strong arms wrapped around him from behind and he automatically turned into them, grabbing two handfuls of clothing as he buried his face into his lover's neck, trembling.
"Shh, I've got you," Castiel whispered into his ear. "I've got you, it's okay."
His heart was racing a mile a minute and it took Dean far longer than it should have to regain his bearings and not because of who he was with for once. Though being in his angel's presence apparently soothed and relaxed his mental instincts, this was not due to that, rather the opposite in fact and he hated to think of how long it might have taken if Castiel hadn't been there. There was just something about that nightmare which hit him far more strongly than any even he was used to. The worst thing was that he didn't know why. At first glance it was much tamer than some of those he'd had before, but the emotional impact was unproportionally strong. Beyond that, some of it just didn't make any sense, well beyond the lack of sense most dreams had. Luckily, though, most of it was already beginning to fade and his emotions returning to a more even keel. The latter he had no doubt was being aided along by a liberal application of his angel's Grace, but he was thankful for it. Much as he hated being supernaturally influenced, he hated the emotional rollercoaster ride he'd just experienced even more and he was glad to be rid of most of it.
"Dean?" Castiel finally inquired.
"I don't know, I really don't know. It was completely different from any nightmare I've ever had before."
"You have no idea what might have caused it?"
Dean could hear the frustration in his lover's voice and it brought a small smile to his face. Castiel was determined to root out the cause of all of his nightmares so that his angel could do everything possible to prevent them from occurring in the first place. Trouble was, though his lover had gotten a lot better at knowing him, this remained one area where Castiel understood things poorly. The entire concept of a subconscious was hard enough for most angels to understand, what with their being so completely aware of every aspect of themselves, so when you threw in a loss of conscious and dreams you were in completely unknown territory for them.
"Nope, sorry," Dean replied, suddenly realizing that both of them had been stripped down to their boxers.
Castiel was running soothing hands up and down his back and Dean was perfectly content to just lie there, cocooned off from the rest of the world by the dark wings that encircled them both. He felt bad though for making his lover stay there with him so he reached down, intending to snake a hand into his angel's boxers but his wrist was intercepted before it got there and pulled up so Castiel could kiss his palm.
"No. Remember that promise we each other, Dean? To let the other know if we didn't like something sexually?"
"Yeah."
"I see instances of one of us not feeling like having sex as the same type of thing."
"Huh?"
"You don't want sex right now, so neither do I."
He opened his mouth to protest, to say that he always wanted sex, but Dean closed it when he realized that it just wasn't true right now. Not after that nightmare. Still, he wanted to do something for his lover even though he knew that he didn't have to. For whatever reason Castiel seemed to enjoy just watching and touching him, which was fine while he slept, but since sleep was out of the question right now he wanted to reciprocate. Luckily he knew of one other surefire way to do so and it was something he enjoyed as well.
Since he'd long since figured out that his lover's possessiveness kink seemed to go both ways, Dean didn't even ask and instead just reached up to tug the closest wing towards him. He wasn't sure if it was an angel thing or just something of Castiel's, but if his acting all proprietary towards his lover's wings was something Castiel appreciated then he had no problem doing precisely that.
The near purr that started up next to his ear made Dean think for a moment of his angel's true form and other faces, but then he focused on grooming the feathers before him. He had wondered on how the same touch could be both arousing and soothing at different times, but he supposed that it was similar to how Castiel's current touches were nothing but comforting.
A.N.: As you can clearly tell, I'm back to writing. Sorry about the delay and I hope the extra long chapter partially makes up for it. Oh and, yes, you're supposed to be at least somewhat confused by the middle section here.
Chapter 89
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 4,094
Summary: Dean spends some time on his baby.
PAST
Sweat rolled down the side of Dean's face and he huffed in annoyance, even in the shade underneath the Impala it was surprisingly hot. He'd hoped for better weather this far South- hell it was the reason he'd come to Florida in March in the first place- but this was getting ridiculous! If he'd known the South was going to get a heat wave like this, he'd have stuck much further North. Going from mid to high forties to low to mid eighties in the space of forty-eight hours was not his idea of a good time. Not with his crappy skin, all pale and freckled. Unlike his father and brother who'd always gone brown in the sun, he went red no matter how much suntan lotion he used or how careful he was. It was the one thing he'd gotten from his mother that he could do without.
It was amazing how often his mother had been on his mind today. Dean knew that it was due to the fact that he was only wearing a wife beater over his jeans which made the silver protection bracelet on his right arm stand out starkly against his skin, but it still surprised him. And it wasn't just now either, he'd found that she'd come to mind more often at night as well when he'd taken off his layers of outdoor clothing for something more comfortable. He liked it even if all of the memories were bittersweet due to the grief and horror that was always close to the surface whenever she was on his mind.
Though those memories could be depressing and sad at times, there were also plenty of good ones in there too and that was exactly what Dean needed just now. Not only was it a blessed relief from all of the mind numbing research that he'd been doing as of late, reading countless books in several different languages (and yeah, a part of him still couldn't quite believe that!), but it was also a distraction from the decidedly disconcerting accounts he was currently working his way through. Just a few days ago Raphael had shown up in his motel room with a set of books in Enochian. Just the sight of them had been enough to make his stomach drop and that had been before he'd learned what they were about.
Dean could still remember what Castiel had said to him back when they'd first gotten together again, that various angels would often write personal accounts of major events so that others could learn from them and hopefully avoid similar mistakes if there were such lessons to be learned from what had transpired. As Lucifer's rebellion had, obviously, been one of the most important events in angelic history there had been a ton of accounts written about it from all different angles and points of view. The longest and most important had, of course, been those of the archangels but that didn't mean that any of the others were worth overlooking in case they contained any hidden gems of information that had seemed insignificant at the time but were now of import to them.
Needlessly to say, though, none of his archangels were particularly keen to go over those accounts despite how much time had passed since then. If there was one thing that Dean could understand, it was the desire to leave those types of memories buried and untouched so he'd readily agreed to be the one to go through the accounts that Michael, Raphael or Castiel had not ever read before. Not only did it make him feel like he could do something in return for them after all that they had done and still continued to do so easily for him, but he also thought that it was probably a good idea that he know more about what really happened back then instead of the mythical tales that had somehow worked their way to Earth or been entirely fabricated.
Despite that initial drive, Dean found it hard going, the painstaking detail and sheer emotion in the accounts made them difficult to read. If he'd ever thought that all angels had been completely emotionless he'd definitely learned otherwise by now. True, he was reading up on what was probably the harshest time in their history, but the shock, betrayal, pain and anguish were all real and struck far too close to home for his liking. Still, he'd never been one to give up on anything just because it hurt or was hard so he was determined to finish the task, it just might take him a bit longer then he'd originally thought it would.
With a few final adjustments, Dean finished his current task and smiled, petting his baby's undercarriage. There that should make her run better. The guilt he'd felt earlier for neglecting her so much lately was starting to ease as he was slowly giving her a complete overhaul. Much as he wanted to simply lose himself in the Impala and her care for a day, he knew that he couldn't. Well, he could, but then he'd have to do nothing but research for days on end to make up for it and that was something that he knew that he wouldn't be able to do. Not only would he be looking for a gun with which to blow his brains out, but he'd start to lose focus and potentially miss important information which was something they simply couldn't afford right now. No, it was far better to parse the research with working on his baby so that he stayed sharp.
His smile soon vanished as Dean remembered that this was the end of the break he'd allowed himself for today and that he'd now have to get back to his research. With a sigh, he gathered the oil, rags and tools he'd been using and pushed himself off of his baby so that he rolled out from underneath her and into the sun. Getting up, he grabbed his bottle of water and got to his feet. The Impala gleamed in the sun from the thorough wash and wax job he'd given her upon first arriving in the sunshine state. Normally he'd have waited to do that until after he was done with the rest of the work he had to do on her, but he hadn't been able to resist given how warm the weather had been that day. Now, of course, he wished he'd waited until today.
Dean felt content as his eyes ran over his baby, but then they stopped on the nearly spotless windscreen and a large smile graced his lips. It wasn't so much the windscreen itself as what he could see through it that made him even happier than he'd already been. The reason for that was twofold. First, he didn't think he'd ever be able to look at the Christmas ornament he'd had the store clerk transform from a mere angel into a miniature Castiel without recalling that wonderful Christmas and since he'd hung it off his review mirror, he could see the back of it now. Second, was because he could see the little angelic bear he'd gotten his lover sitting in the passenger seat pressed snuggly up against the seatbelt. Truth be told, he'd been hurt and a bit angry when he'd first found it in the Impala the day after he'd given it to Castiel, but then he'd noticed how deliberately it had been placed as if to ensure that it wouldn't fall or slide across the seat when he drove.
Once Dean had spotted that, he'd managed to calm down enough to think about things more clearly and when he'd done that, he'd become happy and almost honored in a way. He'd honestly never expected for his lover to keep the silly thing and it had only been Castiel's seeming outright rejection that had stung, but then he'd realized that was almost entirely the opposite of reality. His angel had decided that he wanted to keep it but since it was just a bit too big and bulky to carry around on him, Castiel had done the next best thing he could think of and put it in the Impala. Any doubts he might have had that his reasoning was correct had all vanished the next time his angel had appeared in the car with him. The way Castiel had picked up and held the bear, even after he'd taken a chocolate kiss from its tube, had proven that the stuffed animal hadn't been abandoned, it had merely been tucked away somewhere his lover considered it to be safe. That said place happened to be his baby pleased him greatly and he'd bought a large bag of kisses so he could fill up the tube the Cas!bear held when it was nearly empty. Doing that the first time was when he'd noticed that his angel had mojoed the tube as it was far too cold for the weather.
His smile turned softer as Dean thought of the time that Castiel had appeared in his room already holding the bear. The easy familiarity that spoke of and how readily his lover used the Impala made him feel all warm and mushy inside (not that he'd ever admit to it!). Yeah, he knew his angel probably zapped into and out of her instead of using the key he'd given Castiel for Christmas, but it still pleased him how his lover thought to use her at all and, most importantly, that he felt comfortable doing so without asking for permission beforehand. The Impala had been an integral of his life for as far back as he could remember that she was practically a part of him and he knew that his angel understood that.
"Wow, nice wheels!"
The voice was carefree and female and Dean glanced up to see two young women approaching. He smiled while a hand proudly reached down to touch his baby's hood. See, he wasn't even halfway through all the work he needed to do on her and already she was being admired again.
"Thanks," Dean replied, glancing back at them.
The brunette frowned at him and Dean was at a loss for why but his attention quickly shifted to her friend as the blond stepped forward, still looking at his baby.
"My dad's got an Impala," she said. "But his doesn't look nearly as good as yours despite the fact that he never drives it."
Now it was Dean's turn to frown as he thought of never driving his baby. "I don't got that, why not drive her?"
"Her," the woman laughed, wandering around to the driver's side and leaning down to look inside. "That's exactly what my dad calls his car. He says it's 'cause he doesn't want to risk damaging her."
"I guess, though it's not good for them never to be driven. They weren't made to just sit around doing nothing."
"Either way, it doesn't look like you've ever had to worry about that."
"What? Damaging her? Unfortunately she's taken quite a lot of damage over the years," Dean replied and winced at the memory of taking a tire iron to her trunk. He petted the warm metal beneath his hand some more in a silent apology. "I just rebuilt her afterwards."
"Really?"
"Miriam," the brunette said. "We need to go."
Dean only caught part of the look she sent Miriam, but it was enough to know that he was missing something. Although they'd both been smiling and seemed friendly at first, the brunette now clearly wanted to go, he'd seen that look often enough on Sammy's face over the years when his little brother thought he was just wasting his time or Sam disapproved of what he was doing. He pretended not to notice as the brunette pointedly glanced at the front of the car- the Cas!bear if he wasn't mistaken- and then down at him- his right wrist he realized- where his mother's bracelet now hung.
Miriam, though, was having none of it and came around the front of the Impala towards him. "I bet you're good with your hands," she purred.
Oh shit, she'd been flirting with him, Dean realized with a start. And now that he'd figured that out, he couldn't believe that he hadn't caught onto it immediately: the compliment to his baby, the way she'd walked over to the Impala, swinging her hips more then necessary, how she'd leaned forwards so he could look down her top if he wanted to, her playful manner, to say nothing of how she was dressed. He wouldn't be surprised if they'd planned to head into town and stay there until well into the evening or morning.
Something must have shown on his face as Miriam halted her advance and suddenly looked uncertain.
"I'm flattered, sweetheart," Dean said, quickly recovering from his shock. How the hell had he missed all of that? "Really, but I'm seeing someone."
For a moment it looked like Miriam might try again anyway, but then her friend stepped up beside her and hissed something into Miriam's ear. The woman's eyes widened comically before her eyes flicked down to his wrist. Dean frowned again, trying to figure out what was going on before it suddenly hit him. Between the stuffed animal in the car, the decidedly feminine bracelet he was wearing and his complete lack of reaction- no, realization- of Miriam's advances, they thought he was gay! His gut instinct was to protest and to both deny and correct that assumption. He wasn't gay, he was bi, always had been too in point of fact. It was an important distinction as far as he was concerned and he'd always hated it when people had just assumed that he was gay whenever he'd been seen with a guy. It just wasn't true, he liked both guys and girls and if Castiel had to suddenly change vessel for whatever reason and the new one was female, then the only thing that would make him hesitate would be the consideration for the woman his lover was inhabiting. The rest, though weird and no doubt awkward at first, wouldn't cause him any hang-ups.
This time, though, Dean suppressed the reaction and instead gave the two women a tight smile. There was no point trying to correct their assumption as he had no desire to pursue anything with either of them and was actually in a long-term relationship with what most humans would see as a man.
"Don't take any heed of them," Dean murmured to his baby as the women hurried off without a backwards glance. "They're too shallow to appreciate your true beauty."
Not at all like Castiel, Dean noted as his eyes fell on the small stuffed toy in the passenger seat again. His head tilted in an eerie imitation of his lover as he realized that he'd yet to introduce his angel to car sex. It was unforgivable, really, and high time that they christened the Impala together and if the wording caused a wicked grin to cross his face at what clown guy and the others at the Vatican might think of that, well then he figured he was entitled to his little pleasures.
/
There were clouds everywhere, dark and gray, threatening; ominous. Thunder rumbled all around him and electricity crackled all along his being though there was no actual lightening just yet. It was only a matter of time though as he could taste the storm in the air and everything was balanced on a knife's edge, just a hair away from exploding with truly terrifying violence. He didn't want it to as he feared that this was one storm from which they might never recover. It could tear them all apart leaving only scattered and broken remnants in its wake when it blew over.
If it blew over.
Wind that at once was and wasn't wind lashed out at him, trying to knock him off course, but he flew on, determined. It tore at his wings but his will was stronger. His fear was stronger. Fear, determination and betrayal.
The betrayal hit him with all of the force of a nuke and Dean gasped while the world around him flickered in and out of existence. No! No, he didn't want this, didn't want to experience it again. This was Sam, Ruby, Lilith and Lucifer. It was lies and silence and vengeance. It was deliberate deception, feelings of superiority, self-righteousness and condescension. It was demon blood and addiction and Sam knew best. It was betrayal at its worst. It was Hell and Cicero and the Campbells. It was lies, omission and thoughts of his little brother in Hell long after Sam had gotten out. It was Bobby and Sam and families torn apart. It was trying and trying and trying, always trying, and always failing. It was not being met halfway or even partway or at all.
It was deception, disrespect and betrayal. It came out of nowhere, unexpected, unforeseen. Unthinkable. It was disobedience, it was rebellion, it was impossible. It couldn't be. Not him, not his little brother, not the one that he'd looked after and loved his whole life. The one he cherished above all others and would have done almost anything for. Almost anything, but not this. Never this and how his brother could even think it, even contemplate it, let alone follow through on it, act on it, he couldn't fathom.
It was shock, it was anger, it was disbelief.
It was outrage and pure terror.
"Got you to trust me in the end, didn't I?" Ruby gloated, suddenly appearing before him, flickering between the two humans she'd possessed- blond, black, blond, black- like some bad special effect.
"He never was the brightest."
Dean felt ice flood him at his father's familiar voice and it got both worse and better as he turned to find the older hunter staring at him with Azazel's distinctive yellow eyes.
"He's an artist with a razor, though," Alistair's voice hissed in his ear as hands settled possessively on his hips from behind. "Boy can make even the most recalcitrant of souls scream. Isn't that right, Deano?"
It was pain and fury and resignation. Knowledge and denial at once, each warring with the other to outdo themselves and cause him more hurt than the others though he did not know how that was even possible. It was something the likes of which he'd never experienced before, never had any need or cause to.
"You're too weak. You're holding me back."
It was Sammy this time, but as he'd been that day they'd managed to save Jimmy's family due to Castiel's timely intervention; mouth covered in blood and not the least bit repentant or ashamed, just resigned and annoyed at having been caught red handed. Or was that red mouthed in this case?
"Dean."
The single word that he'd probably heard hundreds of thousands of times before in his life now froze him to his very core and he screamed at himself not to turn towards it, not to look and be shattered into a million little pieces, but it was useless. He couldn't seem to control himself anymore, turning to face the speaker of that voice he loved so very much. There was some relief when he found Castiel to look as he always did with no horrific changes, but appearances could only do so much, it was more the words he feared, those could cut and tear and shred just as deeply and painfully as anything he'd done with a razor in Hell. They could-
Two fingers pressed against his forehead.
/
Dean gasped, bolting upright in bed, clothes sticking to him, drenched in sweat and eyes darting about wildly. Strong arms wrapped around him from behind and he automatically turned into them, grabbing two handfuls of clothing as he buried his face into his lover's neck, trembling.
"Shh, I've got you," Castiel whispered into his ear. "I've got you, it's okay."
His heart was racing a mile a minute and it took Dean far longer than it should have to regain his bearings and not because of who he was with for once. Though being in his angel's presence apparently soothed and relaxed his mental instincts, this was not due to that, rather the opposite in fact and he hated to think of how long it might have taken if Castiel hadn't been there. There was just something about that nightmare which hit him far more strongly than any even he was used to. The worst thing was that he didn't know why. At first glance it was much tamer than some of those he'd had before, but the emotional impact was unproportionally strong. Beyond that, some of it just didn't make any sense, well beyond the lack of sense most dreams had. Luckily, though, most of it was already beginning to fade and his emotions returning to a more even keel. The latter he had no doubt was being aided along by a liberal application of his angel's Grace, but he was thankful for it. Much as he hated being supernaturally influenced, he hated the emotional rollercoaster ride he'd just experienced even more and he was glad to be rid of most of it.
"Dean?" Castiel finally inquired.
"I don't know, I really don't know. It was completely different from any nightmare I've ever had before."
"You have no idea what might have caused it?"
Dean could hear the frustration in his lover's voice and it brought a small smile to his face. Castiel was determined to root out the cause of all of his nightmares so that his angel could do everything possible to prevent them from occurring in the first place. Trouble was, though his lover had gotten a lot better at knowing him, this remained one area where Castiel understood things poorly. The entire concept of a subconscious was hard enough for most angels to understand, what with their being so completely aware of every aspect of themselves, so when you threw in a loss of conscious and dreams you were in completely unknown territory for them.
"Nope, sorry," Dean replied, suddenly realizing that both of them had been stripped down to their boxers.
Castiel was running soothing hands up and down his back and Dean was perfectly content to just lie there, cocooned off from the rest of the world by the dark wings that encircled them both. He felt bad though for making his lover stay there with him so he reached down, intending to snake a hand into his angel's boxers but his wrist was intercepted before it got there and pulled up so Castiel could kiss his palm.
"No. Remember that promise we each other, Dean? To let the other know if we didn't like something sexually?"
"Yeah."
"I see instances of one of us not feeling like having sex as the same type of thing."
"Huh?"
"You don't want sex right now, so neither do I."
He opened his mouth to protest, to say that he always wanted sex, but Dean closed it when he realized that it just wasn't true right now. Not after that nightmare. Still, he wanted to do something for his lover even though he knew that he didn't have to. For whatever reason Castiel seemed to enjoy just watching and touching him, which was fine while he slept, but since sleep was out of the question right now he wanted to reciprocate. Luckily he knew of one other surefire way to do so and it was something he enjoyed as well.
Since he'd long since figured out that his lover's possessiveness kink seemed to go both ways, Dean didn't even ask and instead just reached up to tug the closest wing towards him. He wasn't sure if it was an angel thing or just something of Castiel's, but if his acting all proprietary towards his lover's wings was something Castiel appreciated then he had no problem doing precisely that.
The near purr that started up next to his ear made Dean think for a moment of his angel's true form and other faces, but then he focused on grooming the feathers before him. He had wondered on how the same touch could be both arousing and soothing at different times, but he supposed that it was similar to how Castiel's current touches were nothing but comforting.
A.N.: As you can clearly tell, I'm back to writing. Sorry about the delay and I hope the extra long chapter partially makes up for it. Oh and, yes, you're supposed to be at least somewhat confused by the middle section here.
Chapter 89