Unexpected Destinies Chapter 94
Title: Unexpected Destinies
Rating: R
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash, torture consequences
Word Count: 2,562
Summary: Dean and Michael can finally turn their attention towards Castiel.
PAST
Dean didn't even have time to cry out his lover's name before they were suddenly beside Castiel, Michael having flown them across the room. The archangel glanced up only briefly to ensure that Xarael had indeed managed to kill the other demon before all of their attention was focused exclusively on the broken angel before them. Part of him wished that he didn't have Michael inside of him just now as he really wanted to glance up and away, if only for a moment, as what he saw before him now was simply too horrifying to bear.
Castiel, no Castiel's vessel, Dean reminded himself forcefully, was covered in what looked like fucking fifth degree burns, the skin blackened and peeling and sluggishly oozing blood and what looked like puss. Jimmy's clothes were either gone, singed or looked like they'd melted and, in places, started fusing with his angel's skin. It was the worst thing that he had ever seen and yet he suddenly knew that, despite his earlier desire, he wouldn't be able to pull his eyes away from it even if he were in control of his own meatsuit.
All of that, however, paled in comparison to the state of Castiel's wings.
His lover's perfect, sensitive, beautiful wings were a mess. Dean made a horrible strangled moaning sound in the back of his throat as his eyes took in the damage. The feathers on the right set of wings were mostly burned to a crisp, hardly more than charred remains in parts and completely gone in others. In those areas where there weren't any feathers left the thin membrane of skin was lucky to be in the same shape as the worst parts of Castiel's vessel as most of it was even worse off. It seemed to be almost entirely gone in some places, the delicate bones and muscles underneath showing through as clearly as those of his torture victims in Hell had when he'd pinned them up and skinned them, seeking to replicate some horrific anatomy experiment. In comparison his angel's left set of wings had come out of the ordeal pretty well being only faintly singed with the occasional burn as if the Holy oil had splashed a bit and caught the odd spot or two.
Altogether the sight paralyzed Dean, literally rooting him to the spot in his mind's eye and he could only watch uncomprehendingly as his body began to move under Michael's control. For a moment he just didn't get it. Didn't get how the archangel could even think about doing anything, let alone actually following it through with such a horror lying before them but then he thought back to all of the times that he'd simply reacted when Sammy or his father had been hurt. It had been as if he didn't even have to think about it at times, the need to help and heal so ingrained in him that his body had responded automatically while his mind had needed to race to catch up. For whatever reason that just didn't seem to be happening to him here and now. Instead he was still frozen in horror and terror as Michael reached out and laid a hand on his brother's head.
The next thing that Dean knew the archangel's Grace was swirling within and around him, his soul now easily adjusting to the shifting Power cradling it so that it not only didn't discomfort him anymore, but so that Michael was able to focus fully on the task at hand. When his mind finally caught up with the reality of the situation, it was all that he could do not to break down right then and there and he tried to shove the reaction aside, attempting to concentrate instead on coming up with something to do to help Castiel. The mere thought of being unable to do anything to help his lover now that he was needed most was enough to start driving him mad and he feared that he'd have to resign himself to it as he didn't really see what he could do so long as he was Michael's vessel. Not that he wanted the archangel to leave him as that would mean losing the connection he currently had with Michael's Grace and thereby the ability to feel the archangel healing his lover.
Dean was dimly aware of Xarael coming to kneel beside them, but he paid her little heed. Instead all he could focus on was the feel of Michael's Grace reaching out to Castiel. He didn't quite understand what was being done to his lover, but it seemed to be helping because soon his angel stirred slightly, making pained little noises.
"Can't you keep him under?" Dean asked. "Keep him unaware of the pain?"
"Not with everything else that I am doing," Michael replied. "It is too much for me."
The words nearly made Dean rebel. How could anything be too much for the archangel, he was Michael for God's sake! But he caught the reaction in time, well at least as far as words were concerned and he could only hope that his friend was far too focused on Castiel to have caught the sentiment from his mind. It wouldn't help anyone to deal with those types of thoughts just now, himself included, but he couldn't really help it. His mind had always gone unfortunate places when he was powerless to help someone he cared about, let alone someone he loved so deeply.
"Then shouldn't we call Raphael?" Dean demanded. "You said that he had a gift for healing? Can't he do more?"
"Yes, he can and he will, I just need to stabilize Castiel enough so that I can fly him to Heaven."
"Heaven?" Dean questioned startled.
"It is where most of our Healers are and where Castiel will be able to receive the best of care."
Oh, well that made sense and yet Dean couldn't help but hate the idea. He couldn't go to Heaven, well at least not without Michael riding him and he wasn't actually sure if he could go there even with the archangel in him, not while he was alive anyway. The thought of asking his friend to kill him just so that he could be with his lover while Castiel was in Heaven crossed his mind but he dismissed it right away, already knowing what Michael's answer to that particular request would be. Given the way that things had started shifting between him and Raphael he also wasn't sure that the other archangel would do it either. Besides, he actually wasn't sure if he'd be able to get into the right part of Heaven as a regular soul. During his last unfortunate trip upstairs he and Sam had traversed a significant portion of Heaven and yet they'd never seen anything even remotely like what Castiel had mentioned the angel portion of Heaven looked like and he really didn't fancy trekking around aimlessly while he didn't know what was happening to his angel.
Despite all of that Dean couldn't really bring himself to protest the idea though. Castiel not only needed but deserved the best treatment possible and he knew for a fact that this meant Heaven no matter how much he might hate the place. This was definitely so far beyond his own first aid skill level as to be ridiculous. If this were any other situation he'd have called nine one one a long time ago, not even trusting himself to move the victim unless absolutely necessary to save their life.
Castiel moaned and started to twitch restlessly which could only be causing him further pain. Dean wanted to speak with his lover, to reassure him that he was there and to tell him not to move, but he couldn't. Luckily it seemed that he wasn't the only one feeling like that as Xarael reached out and laid a hand on Castiel's shoulder.
"Peace, Brother, you must be still," Xarael said. "You have been gravely injured."
"Sister?" Castiel questioned.
The single word made Dean's heart soar and sink at the same time. On the one hand it proved that his lover was still with them but on the other hand Castiel sounded absolutely horrible. His voice was wrecked and not in a good way but rather in a way that showed that his angel had been screaming and was too hurt to heal what would normally be such an insignificant ailment for him. Then, to his utter delight, Castiel's eyes fluttered and opened and he could see his lover's baby blues. True, they were clouded with pain, but they were alert and it was another small miracle that he was more than happy to take and cling to. He absently wondered how much of this was Michael's doing but he wasn't sure that he wanted to know as he could hardly take the knowledge of how badly his angel had been hurt as it was.
"Cas," Dean moaned as his lover's eyes flickered from Xarael over to them.
"De- Michael," Castiel whispered.
"Dean is here, Brother," Michael reassured, voice strained. "He calls for you."
"Meg?"
"Dead."
The sheer satisfaction in Michael's voice was echoed by the archangel's feelings and Dean let them wash over him with pleasure. There was something dark and alluring to them that he instantly recognized from his own darkness and knowing that Michael felt like that as well soothed something inside of him that had always wondered and worried about what he was capable of and whether or not some part of him had been hopelessly and irrevocably twisted and ruined by what he had done down in Hell under Alastair's tutelage. To know that an archangel, let alone the archangel, possessed similar thoughts, feelings and darkness was a welcome relief.
"Hurts," Castiel whispered, voice filled with pain.
That one word was enough to have Dean practically chomping at the bit and the only reason that he wasn't tearing at the bonds that kept him from full control of his meatsuit was the knowledge that doing so would only be detrimental to his lover. Michael wasn't the problem here and could well be the only reason that Castiel was even conscious just now. To fight the archangel would not only be completely counterproductive and massively stupid, but would actually result in exactly the opposite of what he wanted to achieve and for once he was keenly aware of that fact before he acted instead of only realizing it after the fact.
He just hated being so fucking useless while his lover was in so much pain!
"I know, Brother," Michael replied. "You are not useless right now, Little One."
"Like Hell I'm not!"
"You are my true vessel, Dean, the only one in which I can use all of my powers without worrying about causing damage to my vessel or anyone else. If I were currently in your aunt or anyone else, I would not be able to use as much of my Grace to aid Castiel and therefore he would be in even more pain at present."
Even more. That particular word choice was not at all lost on Dean and it pained him. God, just how badly was his angel injured? Michael had been doing nothing but healing Castiel since kneeling by his side and yet he couldn't see any difference whatsoever to the wounds. They still looked as horrifying and frightful as before. If this was even more then he absolutely hated to think what less would be.
"I am focusing on Castiel's true form first," Michael explained. "Those injuries are the most severe and in the greatest need of care."
If he'd been in control of his own body, Dean knew that he'd be vomiting right now. The wounds to Castiel's true form were worse than those that he could see on his lover's body? The thought was too much to bear and he couldn't help but see flashes of Hell and what he'd both seen and experienced there, his memories more than ready to help inform him of how things could get more 'severe' than what he was currently seeing. God but he really hated his own mind at times, it seemed perpetually ready to betray him whenever his defenses were down.
Castiel had turned his head just enough so that he could easily watch them and Dean was grateful that Michael met his gaze head-on even as the archangel continued to heal his brother. His lover had always seemed to enjoy and take comfort in those staring matches they got into and if doing so now managed to help him on some level then he wanted to give it to Castiel even if it was only his face. It seemed to be enough for his angel just now and he kept eye contact with Castiel even though he knew that he could focus his attention elsewhere and his lover would never know as all his angel could see was Michael just now. That didn't matter, however, as he'd know and it gave him the illusion of being able to do something. Some small part of him almost hoped that Castiel would be able to sense his attention but then he quickly squashed it. He was not such a chick damnit!
"There," Michael finally stated an indeterminate amount of time later. "I have done what I can to stabilize your injuries enough for transportation to Heaven."
"Thank you, Michael," Castiel replied hoarsely.
"Do not be deceived, Brother, it will still hurt tremendously for I am not a Healer and your injuries are severe."
"I know, but it is something I must bear before things can get better."
"Mike!" Dean pleaded, not quite sure what he was asking for but unable to simply listen to that.
Instead of replying, the archangel reached out and cupped Castiel face with a hand and Dean's eyes dropped to half-mast as he greedily drank in the sensation of just touching his lover's face as Michael did his best to funnel the feeling directly back to his soul. The illusion seemed to be enough for Castiel as well as his angel closed his own eyes and leaned into the touch as if seeking comfort from it.
"Thanks," Dean finally managed to say though it sounded thick and choked up even to his own mental ears. And damn, why couldn't he even deceive himself here of all places?
"You are both precious to me, Little One, it was my pleasure to be able to help you both at once with something so easy," Michael responded before he shifted his attention. "Xarael, please let the Healers know that we are coming."
"Yes, Michael," Xarael replied and vanished in a flutter of wings.
"I am ready, Brother," Castiel stated before Michael could ask.
Dean could feel the archangel inside of him lift his lover with the utmost care but it wasn't enough to prevent Castiel from making small, pained noises or to keep his angel's face free of new pain. It was as if every sound or sign of pain was a knife to the gut and he tried desperately not to focus on the gaping wounds still covering so much of his lover's body and wings. Then Michael spread his wings and flew them up to Heaven.
A.N.: :( None of my prompts over at the deancastiel everlasting birthday challenge were picked up. Guess I'll have to change them for something people might like next year.
Chapter 95
Rating: R
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash, torture consequences
Word Count: 2,562
Summary: Dean and Michael can finally turn their attention towards Castiel.
PAST
Dean didn't even have time to cry out his lover's name before they were suddenly beside Castiel, Michael having flown them across the room. The archangel glanced up only briefly to ensure that Xarael had indeed managed to kill the other demon before all of their attention was focused exclusively on the broken angel before them. Part of him wished that he didn't have Michael inside of him just now as he really wanted to glance up and away, if only for a moment, as what he saw before him now was simply too horrifying to bear.
Castiel, no Castiel's vessel, Dean reminded himself forcefully, was covered in what looked like fucking fifth degree burns, the skin blackened and peeling and sluggishly oozing blood and what looked like puss. Jimmy's clothes were either gone, singed or looked like they'd melted and, in places, started fusing with his angel's skin. It was the worst thing that he had ever seen and yet he suddenly knew that, despite his earlier desire, he wouldn't be able to pull his eyes away from it even if he were in control of his own meatsuit.
All of that, however, paled in comparison to the state of Castiel's wings.
His lover's perfect, sensitive, beautiful wings were a mess. Dean made a horrible strangled moaning sound in the back of his throat as his eyes took in the damage. The feathers on the right set of wings were mostly burned to a crisp, hardly more than charred remains in parts and completely gone in others. In those areas where there weren't any feathers left the thin membrane of skin was lucky to be in the same shape as the worst parts of Castiel's vessel as most of it was even worse off. It seemed to be almost entirely gone in some places, the delicate bones and muscles underneath showing through as clearly as those of his torture victims in Hell had when he'd pinned them up and skinned them, seeking to replicate some horrific anatomy experiment. In comparison his angel's left set of wings had come out of the ordeal pretty well being only faintly singed with the occasional burn as if the Holy oil had splashed a bit and caught the odd spot or two.
Altogether the sight paralyzed Dean, literally rooting him to the spot in his mind's eye and he could only watch uncomprehendingly as his body began to move under Michael's control. For a moment he just didn't get it. Didn't get how the archangel could even think about doing anything, let alone actually following it through with such a horror lying before them but then he thought back to all of the times that he'd simply reacted when Sammy or his father had been hurt. It had been as if he didn't even have to think about it at times, the need to help and heal so ingrained in him that his body had responded automatically while his mind had needed to race to catch up. For whatever reason that just didn't seem to be happening to him here and now. Instead he was still frozen in horror and terror as Michael reached out and laid a hand on his brother's head.
The next thing that Dean knew the archangel's Grace was swirling within and around him, his soul now easily adjusting to the shifting Power cradling it so that it not only didn't discomfort him anymore, but so that Michael was able to focus fully on the task at hand. When his mind finally caught up with the reality of the situation, it was all that he could do not to break down right then and there and he tried to shove the reaction aside, attempting to concentrate instead on coming up with something to do to help Castiel. The mere thought of being unable to do anything to help his lover now that he was needed most was enough to start driving him mad and he feared that he'd have to resign himself to it as he didn't really see what he could do so long as he was Michael's vessel. Not that he wanted the archangel to leave him as that would mean losing the connection he currently had with Michael's Grace and thereby the ability to feel the archangel healing his lover.
Dean was dimly aware of Xarael coming to kneel beside them, but he paid her little heed. Instead all he could focus on was the feel of Michael's Grace reaching out to Castiel. He didn't quite understand what was being done to his lover, but it seemed to be helping because soon his angel stirred slightly, making pained little noises.
"Can't you keep him under?" Dean asked. "Keep him unaware of the pain?"
"Not with everything else that I am doing," Michael replied. "It is too much for me."
The words nearly made Dean rebel. How could anything be too much for the archangel, he was Michael for God's sake! But he caught the reaction in time, well at least as far as words were concerned and he could only hope that his friend was far too focused on Castiel to have caught the sentiment from his mind. It wouldn't help anyone to deal with those types of thoughts just now, himself included, but he couldn't really help it. His mind had always gone unfortunate places when he was powerless to help someone he cared about, let alone someone he loved so deeply.
"Then shouldn't we call Raphael?" Dean demanded. "You said that he had a gift for healing? Can't he do more?"
"Yes, he can and he will, I just need to stabilize Castiel enough so that I can fly him to Heaven."
"Heaven?" Dean questioned startled.
"It is where most of our Healers are and where Castiel will be able to receive the best of care."
Oh, well that made sense and yet Dean couldn't help but hate the idea. He couldn't go to Heaven, well at least not without Michael riding him and he wasn't actually sure if he could go there even with the archangel in him, not while he was alive anyway. The thought of asking his friend to kill him just so that he could be with his lover while Castiel was in Heaven crossed his mind but he dismissed it right away, already knowing what Michael's answer to that particular request would be. Given the way that things had started shifting between him and Raphael he also wasn't sure that the other archangel would do it either. Besides, he actually wasn't sure if he'd be able to get into the right part of Heaven as a regular soul. During his last unfortunate trip upstairs he and Sam had traversed a significant portion of Heaven and yet they'd never seen anything even remotely like what Castiel had mentioned the angel portion of Heaven looked like and he really didn't fancy trekking around aimlessly while he didn't know what was happening to his angel.
Despite all of that Dean couldn't really bring himself to protest the idea though. Castiel not only needed but deserved the best treatment possible and he knew for a fact that this meant Heaven no matter how much he might hate the place. This was definitely so far beyond his own first aid skill level as to be ridiculous. If this were any other situation he'd have called nine one one a long time ago, not even trusting himself to move the victim unless absolutely necessary to save their life.
Castiel moaned and started to twitch restlessly which could only be causing him further pain. Dean wanted to speak with his lover, to reassure him that he was there and to tell him not to move, but he couldn't. Luckily it seemed that he wasn't the only one feeling like that as Xarael reached out and laid a hand on Castiel's shoulder.
"Peace, Brother, you must be still," Xarael said. "You have been gravely injured."
"Sister?" Castiel questioned.
The single word made Dean's heart soar and sink at the same time. On the one hand it proved that his lover was still with them but on the other hand Castiel sounded absolutely horrible. His voice was wrecked and not in a good way but rather in a way that showed that his angel had been screaming and was too hurt to heal what would normally be such an insignificant ailment for him. Then, to his utter delight, Castiel's eyes fluttered and opened and he could see his lover's baby blues. True, they were clouded with pain, but they were alert and it was another small miracle that he was more than happy to take and cling to. He absently wondered how much of this was Michael's doing but he wasn't sure that he wanted to know as he could hardly take the knowledge of how badly his angel had been hurt as it was.
"Cas," Dean moaned as his lover's eyes flickered from Xarael over to them.
"De- Michael," Castiel whispered.
"Dean is here, Brother," Michael reassured, voice strained. "He calls for you."
"Meg?"
"Dead."
The sheer satisfaction in Michael's voice was echoed by the archangel's feelings and Dean let them wash over him with pleasure. There was something dark and alluring to them that he instantly recognized from his own darkness and knowing that Michael felt like that as well soothed something inside of him that had always wondered and worried about what he was capable of and whether or not some part of him had been hopelessly and irrevocably twisted and ruined by what he had done down in Hell under Alastair's tutelage. To know that an archangel, let alone the archangel, possessed similar thoughts, feelings and darkness was a welcome relief.
"Hurts," Castiel whispered, voice filled with pain.
That one word was enough to have Dean practically chomping at the bit and the only reason that he wasn't tearing at the bonds that kept him from full control of his meatsuit was the knowledge that doing so would only be detrimental to his lover. Michael wasn't the problem here and could well be the only reason that Castiel was even conscious just now. To fight the archangel would not only be completely counterproductive and massively stupid, but would actually result in exactly the opposite of what he wanted to achieve and for once he was keenly aware of that fact before he acted instead of only realizing it after the fact.
He just hated being so fucking useless while his lover was in so much pain!
"I know, Brother," Michael replied. "You are not useless right now, Little One."
"Like Hell I'm not!"
"You are my true vessel, Dean, the only one in which I can use all of my powers without worrying about causing damage to my vessel or anyone else. If I were currently in your aunt or anyone else, I would not be able to use as much of my Grace to aid Castiel and therefore he would be in even more pain at present."
Even more. That particular word choice was not at all lost on Dean and it pained him. God, just how badly was his angel injured? Michael had been doing nothing but healing Castiel since kneeling by his side and yet he couldn't see any difference whatsoever to the wounds. They still looked as horrifying and frightful as before. If this was even more then he absolutely hated to think what less would be.
"I am focusing on Castiel's true form first," Michael explained. "Those injuries are the most severe and in the greatest need of care."
If he'd been in control of his own body, Dean knew that he'd be vomiting right now. The wounds to Castiel's true form were worse than those that he could see on his lover's body? The thought was too much to bear and he couldn't help but see flashes of Hell and what he'd both seen and experienced there, his memories more than ready to help inform him of how things could get more 'severe' than what he was currently seeing. God but he really hated his own mind at times, it seemed perpetually ready to betray him whenever his defenses were down.
Castiel had turned his head just enough so that he could easily watch them and Dean was grateful that Michael met his gaze head-on even as the archangel continued to heal his brother. His lover had always seemed to enjoy and take comfort in those staring matches they got into and if doing so now managed to help him on some level then he wanted to give it to Castiel even if it was only his face. It seemed to be enough for his angel just now and he kept eye contact with Castiel even though he knew that he could focus his attention elsewhere and his lover would never know as all his angel could see was Michael just now. That didn't matter, however, as he'd know and it gave him the illusion of being able to do something. Some small part of him almost hoped that Castiel would be able to sense his attention but then he quickly squashed it. He was not such a chick damnit!
"There," Michael finally stated an indeterminate amount of time later. "I have done what I can to stabilize your injuries enough for transportation to Heaven."
"Thank you, Michael," Castiel replied hoarsely.
"Do not be deceived, Brother, it will still hurt tremendously for I am not a Healer and your injuries are severe."
"I know, but it is something I must bear before things can get better."
"Mike!" Dean pleaded, not quite sure what he was asking for but unable to simply listen to that.
Instead of replying, the archangel reached out and cupped Castiel face with a hand and Dean's eyes dropped to half-mast as he greedily drank in the sensation of just touching his lover's face as Michael did his best to funnel the feeling directly back to his soul. The illusion seemed to be enough for Castiel as well as his angel closed his own eyes and leaned into the touch as if seeking comfort from it.
"Thanks," Dean finally managed to say though it sounded thick and choked up even to his own mental ears. And damn, why couldn't he even deceive himself here of all places?
"You are both precious to me, Little One, it was my pleasure to be able to help you both at once with something so easy," Michael responded before he shifted his attention. "Xarael, please let the Healers know that we are coming."
"Yes, Michael," Xarael replied and vanished in a flutter of wings.
"I am ready, Brother," Castiel stated before Michael could ask.
Dean could feel the archangel inside of him lift his lover with the utmost care but it wasn't enough to prevent Castiel from making small, pained noises or to keep his angel's face free of new pain. It was as if every sound or sign of pain was a knife to the gut and he tried desperately not to focus on the gaping wounds still covering so much of his lover's body and wings. Then Michael spread his wings and flew them up to Heaven.
A.N.: :( None of my prompts over at the deancastiel everlasting birthday challenge were picked up. Guess I'll have to change them for something people might like next year.
Chapter 95