A Demon by Any Other Name, Part 2
Title: A Demon by Any Other Name
Pairings: Dean/Cas, Sam/Ruby
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Up to and including 4.07
Warnings: AU of season 4, slash, bottom!Dean, dom!Cas, torture, bare backing, dark, first time, orgasm denial
Word Count: 25,462
Note: This is a response to one of marourin's Everlasting Birthday Challenge prompts on the deancastiel comm. The prompt has been put at the end of the fic to prevent spoilers.
Summary: Castiel is unlike anything Dean expected an angel to be, arousing both terror and lust within him.
Part 1
When Dean woke it was hours later as the sky was already lightening and he realized with a start that this was the first time he'd slept for any significant amount of time without any nightmares. Then he remembered everything that had happened the previous day and sat bolt upright.
Shit, had he really? With an angel?
The soreness he'd felt upon changing position, however, left Dean in no doubt of the fact that he'd actually had sex with Castiel. He still didn't have a clue what had possessed him at the time, but just the mere thought of what they'd done was enough to make his mouth go dry and he could practically still feel the angel's touch on his skin. Could still feel the slight sting of the bite mark he no doubt possessed at the back of his neck. He had to admit, at least to himself, it had been amazing even if the creature still terrified him, not that it had prevented him from falling asleep next to him though. Or had Castiel used his mojo on him?
The thought made Dean shift uncomfortably, silently cursing himself for always managing to get himself into these situations. It was as he was doing so that he realized that he'd been covered with the blanket that he knew for a fact had been in the trunk of the Impala when he'd fallen asleep. His leather jacket had also been rolled into a makeshift pillow beneath his head. The care and thought behind both actions shook him up simply because it was more attention than he'd come to expect from even his own brother as of late.
"So he knows a little about human needs," Dean muttered, shrugging the blanket off and getting out of the car. "That doesn't mean anything. Still left me stuck in the middle of nowhere."
Automatically reaching for his phone so he could call Sam to get him a tow truck, Dean realized that his keys were missing from his pocket.
"What the hell?"
Frantically, Dean checked the other pocket, just in case he'd put them away there by mistake, but no such luck. Okay, so maybe they'd fallen out of his pocket during all of the activity last night, though as he turned around to start looking for them a glint of metal on the dashboard caught his eyes and he looked over. Sure enough, there lay his keys, somewhere he knew for certain he hadn't left them. Frowning, he opened the door and leaned in to snag them. What on Earth were they doing there? Or, more importantly, why had Castiel put them there as the angel was the only one who could have removed them from his pocket.
On a sudden hunch, Dean sat down in the driver's seat, put the key in the ignition and turned it. Sure enough, the motor responded instantly, coming to life and the needle for the gas gauge went from empty to full.
"Thanks, Cas," Dean said gratefully, a huge smile on his face before he stroked the dashboard. "There, baby, I'm sure that feels better, doesn't it?"
His good mood didn't last long, though as the events from the previous day came flooding back to him just as soon as Dean had gotten the Impala turned around and was heading back to the Willow Tree motel and his brother. In fact his mood got progressively darker the closer he got so that by the time he was faced with Sam and his attempts to make things out to be different than they were, he found himself punching his brother, twice. His plan to just pack and leave flew straight out the window with the confrontation and he seriously didn't know what would have happened if Travis hadn't interrupted them with that call to Sam. Part of his anger suddenly shifted away from his brother and onto Castiel. If only the angel had given him something more to work with then perhaps he'd be able to get through to his brother about the sheer stupidity of Sam's actions. After all that he'd just heard about being able to save more people with the use of demonically derived psychic powers than good old fashioned hunting techniques he knew that he needed all of the help he could get and the knowledge that angels wanted him to stop using those powers might be just what Sam needed to hear.
So why the hell hadn't Castiel given him that? Why hadn't the angel just come right out and said that he wanted Dean to get Sam to stop using his powers? Why had the creature merely told him that what his brother was doing was dangerous? Briefly he had a flash of the triumph and satisfaction he thought he'd glimpsed in Castiel's eyes when he'd dared slander God to the angel's face, but then he shoved it aside. Castiel wasn't the issue here, Sam was. Sam and his stupid, moronic and traitorous ideas and actions.
And since when had his brother been one to allow the ends to justify the means anyway?
If Dean were honest with himself then he had to admit that the tears that had shimmered in Sam's eyes had briefly gotten to him and he'd already been able to start feeling himself and his resolve slip like it always had in the past. Perhaps things weren't as bad as they seemed just now? Perhaps there was still time to prove to his brother that what he was doing was wrong and that Ruby was just there to use him and manipulate him into using his powers until he got past the point of no return. But then Sam had dared to try and turn it around onto him, trying to make it out to be his fault that this had happened because he hadn't been there and that had instantaneously brought the rage back in full force. How dare he? How dare Sam even think about using that when he'd not been there because he'd sacrificed himself for his brother?
Thankfully that had been the precise moment Travis had called, fortuitously interrupting their conversation and giving Dean something else to focus his attention on and he grabbed it with both hands. A case would provide him with the perfect distraction and allow him to keep an eye on his brother at the same time. While he wanted nothing more than to flee, he was too worried about what Sam and Ruby might do if he wasn't there (and hey, he already had more than enough proof that leaving those two alone together was a monumentally bad idea!). Besides, if they really were facing a looming Apocalypse, then they needed to stick together no matter how he felt about it.
Besides, if he happened to be alone then Castiel might return and Dean wasn't so sure that he could handle that just now. He still couldn't understand what had possessed him to kiss the angel last night, not to mention the fact that the sheer attraction he now felt for the creature and the slew of twisted emotions that welled up within him at the mere thought of Castiel still freaked him out to the point of outright terror.
No, there was definitely something to be said about safety in numbers at the moment even if he didn't particularly trust his brother further than he could throw Sam.
/
As they drove away from the ruins of their hunt and the still smoldering pyre of Travis' scanty remains, Dean found himself almost hating his baby for the first time in his life. It wasn't the Impala's fault but it just seemed like everything bad or complicated that had happened as of late had happened either in or around her. The wonderful and terrifying thing with Castiel, Sam's confession that he'd known about Azazel and the demon blood for nearly a year and hadn't seen fit to tell him, his brother's little explosion where Sam had tried to pretend that he was still perfectly capable of telling right from wrong and had once again tried to shift the blame for all of his behavior onto him, and finally this latest conversation where Sam tried to say it was his fault for not understanding before lying to his face about stopping. As if he'd simply believe that after all that had happened. He didn't think so. His brother had already promised him to stop using his powers once before and that had been nothing but a lie, so why would this be any different? As for the rest, the mere idea that he deserved to be lied to just because he wouldn't agree with Sam on everything infuriated him to no end. The worst part was that his brother had to know that what he was doing was wrong or he'd never have felt the need to lie about it. So much for Sam being above the hypocrisy his brother had always accused him of.
For all that Sam liked to claim he was being righteous, he now realized that his brother was actually self-righteous.
The way Dean saw it Ruby had managed to twist Sam around so much that his brother actually seemed to believe all the bullshit he was spouting even if some part of him realized how wrong it. Well if his brother wanted to do that, then fine, two could play at that game. He'd had another brief flare of hope that Sam wasn't quite as bad as he'd thought when his brother had seemed to revert back to his old self, challenging the experienced hunter and claiming to know better, but then he'd realized that no, the only thing that had changed was that he'd been placed squarely in the same category as Travis and Dad in Sam's mind and now was thus someone to be sneered at and circumvented as often as possible. He bet that if he were to point out that Travis would most likely still be alive if they'd just done this their friend's way he would be met with nothing but scorn from his brother and some handy excuse before Sam lied to his face yet again.
Dean's hands tightened on the wheel at the thought. At least he felt vindicated for having had absolutely no problem with jumping straight onto the whole 'gank the son of bitch' bandwagon right from the start. If only he hadn't doubted himself so much and assumed that the bloodlust he'd been fighting off since returning topside had been influencing him, then Travis and himself could have taken care of the problem while Sam had his little hissy fit.
"You should not have let your brother talk you out of killing the rugaru right away," Castiel stated the next day.
"I know," Dean replied, fists clenching even as he wondered what he was doing.
He'd come out of the shower to find his brother gone and the angel waiting for him. The rush of emotions within him had prompted Dean to start venting about the case, vainly hoping to distract himself both from them and from the thoughts of what he'd done with Castiel the last time they'd been together.
"You should have struck him down right away."
"Next time I will," Dean muttered, heart tripping within his chest as he suddenly realized how close the creature had come. "Cas, what?"
"You doubted yourself."
It was nothing short of horrifying the way Castiel seemed to be able to just look him in the eye and read him like an open book. Dean absolutely hated being that vulnerable with anyone but especially with someone with whom he'd been as intimate as this creature. The only thing that kept him from bolting was the fact that for whatever reason the angel chose to remain after having seen him for who and what he truly was. That was a gift he never thought he'd receive from anyone and it rooted him to the stop, rendering him completely unable to move or tear his eyes away from the ethereal blue gaze.
"You shouldn't," Castiel stated firmly. "Those that would seek to prey on innocents deserve no mercy and should be put to death or made to suffer for their crimes."
"Whoa, a little bloodthirsty there, buddy," Dean replied, eyes wide.
The sentiment did absolutely nothing to help him rein in the desire he kept having to bury of finding something to sink his knife into. Yes even his best knife wasn't nearly as nice as those he'd wielded in Hell, but he was sure he could make do. After all, Alastair had often praised him for his resourcefulness and creativity. The thought thrilled him and made him sick at the same time and he absently wondered if he was doomed forevermore to experience dual conflicting emotions about nearly everything from here on out. It definitely seemed that way to him just now. Had something become so completely twisted inside of him while in the Pit that he now craved the depraved and the corrupted?
But what did that say about his desire for Castiel? Was he seeking to defile a Heavenly being?
Castiel chuckled, easily invading his personal space and herding him back against a wall, making Dean's heart race with fear now instead of just lust. "So precious," the angel murmured under his breath.
"What?" Dean demanded.
"It is little wonder you caught my eye and fascinated me from the beginning," Castiel stated, a hand coming up to stroke his face.
Dean's eyes widened and he swallowed thickly at what he suddenly saw in those eyes. At this moment there was absolutely no mistaking that the creature before him was a supernatural being, an incredibly powerful supernatural being. Age, power, darkness and something he couldn't quite define shone in those blue depths making him weak in the knees like some fucking girl and it took all of his willpower not to sink down to his knees in worship. He licked his dry lips nervously and didn't miss the way those eyes focused on the action and followed his tongue, a new fire kindling in their depths. The mere thought that this creature, this being, this angel, wanted him both terrified and aroused him like always and the urge to simply roll over and submit, or at least the equivalent thereof, rose within Dean so swiftly and powerfully that he swayed slightly under the force of it. It was all that he could do not to just give in to it and he whimpered slightly, the memory of the last time and the exquisite pleasure of it coming back to him full force.
"Shh," Castiel soothed, pulling him close and running a hand down his back. "Why do you fight it, Dean? I am infinitely more powerful than you can imagine and I could kill you with a mere thought."
The words sent a thrill of fear down Dean's spine but instead of it negating his desire to just give in completely and submit to the angel before him, it merely served to greaten his arousal and wish to be taken and claimed by Castiel. It made no sense and yet his fear and lust seemed hopelessly intertwined and served only to make him more aroused than he'd ever felt before in his life.
"So, in light of those facts, what shame is there in submitting to me?" Castiel questioned softly, seductively, right into his ear.
Dean's breath hitched, feeling completely overwhelmed and surrounded by the angel. Embarrassing little noises fell from his lips and those clever fingers played his body like an instrument. And really, what shame was there? He knew the power of the creature and knew that he didn't even rate as a nuisance on the power scale when compared to Castiel. It was just that part of him still resisted the idea, it fought to be heard while the rest of him simply wanted to give into the pleasure and fulfillment that awaited him.
"Just let go, Dean, you deserve it."
The sound alone of that dark, gravelly voice was enough to make Dean harden painfully further and he mewled unthinkingly, needing it.
"Give yourself to me, submit, and let me take care of you."
Liquid sex, that's what Castiel's voice was and it distracted Dean from the creature's actual words for a few seconds, but then they penetrated. Let me take care of you. How long had it been since anyone had taken care of him? Since anyone had wanted to take care of him? Far too long and even then it had been someone who hadn't truly known him and would probably have run screaming for the hills if they'd known the truth. That wasn't the case here, with Castiel. The angel knew him in a way no one else ever had, knew what he'd done and most likely knew of the bloodlust he still struggled with, and still Castiel chose to be here with him. Chose to do this for him.
With a broken little sound, Dean caved and allowed himself to go completely pliant in the angel's arms. Castiel reacted instantly, pulling his head down for a dominating kiss before they were suddenly on the bed, both of them completely naked. He sputtered in surprise but it quickly turned to a strangled moan as the angel got right to claiming his submission and in less time than he'd have thought possible, he felt his orgasm approaching. He was climbing ever higher until fingers curled around the base of his cock, cutting him off and denying him which made him whine.
"Not until I'm inside of you," Castiel commanded.
Then do it, Dean wanted to shout but found that he couldn't force the words out past the pleas that were already falling from his lips. The sentiment must have gotten through, though, as the angel easily flipped him and then he was pulling his knees under him and instinctively spreading his legs, making himself easier to mount. He mewled as he realized what he'd done and why, but Castiel was already on him, one finger shoved roughly inside of him. Everything was harder and faster this time and he knew it was because now the angel was staking a claim, taking what he'd freely offered and dominating him in every way possible and ensuring that he'd feel it the next day and remember his willing submission.
The thought was nearly enough to make Dean come and it took all of his willpower not to shove himself back on the fingers inside of him. He'd decided to let Castiel take charge here and he wasn't going to go back on that. Despite the thirty years of absolute helplessness on Alastair's rack, he felt nothing but bliss and the relief of not having to be the one in charge here, of not having to make all of the decisions and worry about what they meant or the damage they could cause. No, this was just about letting go and being himself without any restraints or fear of what Castiel would think of him.
This was freedom. Freedom and pleasure with just enough fear and pain thrown into the mix to drive him completely mad.
By the time Castiel was pushing into him, Dean was ready to come again and the angel had to hold him off once more as the creature draped himself over him, forcing him to take their combined weight or be crushed into the mattress. The electrical charge of Castiel's power sizzled along each and every nerve ending, making the hair all over his body stand on end and ensuring that he was intimately aware of the fact that he was in bed with a supernatural being. That he'd voluntarily submitted to such a powerful creature that he couldn't even stand to see its true form without having his eyes burnt out of his skull.
The knowledge only served to thrill Dean even more.
The pleasure was coming hard and fast now, so soaked in fear and awe as to be overwhelming and Dean's whole body was shuddering under the strain of it and his pending orgasm that he wasn't aware of the angel's hand creeping up along his arm towards the brand that marked him as the creature's. He did, however, feel it the instant Castiel sealed his hand over the scar. His whole world exploded into lust, love and a possessiveness so intense he couldn't even comprehend it and then everything went black.
/
By the time Dean had woken up the next morning not only had Castiel gone, but Sam had gotten back, telling him that Bobby had called with a new case for them and pretending that he hadn't snuck off the previous evening to go see his demonic girlfriend. Well if that was the way his brother wanted to play it, then that was fine by him. It definitely beat banging his head against a brick wall the whole time, especially when said wall didn't give a damn if he injured himself in the process.
Dean found it surprisingly easy to slip into a role and even easier to convince his brother that it was real and if that didn't say anything about the state of their current relationship then he didn't know what did. It kinda fascinated him how easily Sam could turn everything off and pretend that all was normal between them, but it also freaked him the hell out and made him that much more determined to stick to his act. Pretending to be fascinated with whether or not his resurrection had rehymenated him and making it look like he was desperate to correct that particular flaw made it infinitely easier to keep in mind that he couldn't trust his brother anymore no matter how normal Sam might be acting at the moment.
In addition the act allowed Dean to cover up how shaken he still was about his encounter with Castiel. Not only couldn't he believe that he'd actually put himself completely at the creature's mercy like that, but also about what he'd felt when the angel had touched his... brand. It freaked him out in a way he hadn't experienced in a very long time. It had only taken a few short years of Alastair's company to learn that nothing was sacred and that the demon would and could use every tool at his disposal in Alastair's desperate attempt to break him. Well, every tool except rape. That one still didn't make any sense to him no matter how much he pondered it. Not that he wasn't incredibly grateful, but still, Alastair had left no other stone unturned, so why not this one?
Regardless, the fact remained that Dean had long since learned to expect the worst to happen to him but that still hadn't prepared him for the sheer possessiveness he'd felt radiating from the angel just before Castiel had come. It made him feel like a piece of meat almost, a thing to be taken and owned and he didn't give a fuck that he'd placed himself in that position, he'd never expected it to be like that. Some possessiveness, sure, he'd spent far too long with Alastair not to have come to expect some proprietariness from the creature that had rescued him, but not that. Never that. It was... and then the rest, the... other emotions...
No, no, no and just no. It was wrong and he'd made a mistake, a big, horrible mistake and Dean knew it. Yet, despite all of that, he found that he just couldn't stop himself from thinking about the angel whenever he had a spare moment. Like about what it had felt like to submit to Castiel, to give up all control and to just let the creature take charge and take care of him for once. It was indescribable and that was without thinking about the actual sex which had been so fantastically good that it made him hard just to think about it and he'd already had to bail twice just so he could go jack himself off somewhere because he'd allowed his thoughts to stray to those two nights. Fuck but he'd never had sex that good before in his life.
He'd thrown himself at the bar wench whose name Dean couldn't even remember now all the harder because of this but it hadn't worked. Oh he'd managed to convince her to go out with him in the end, but then he'd been the one to bail as the thought of going back to her place and taking her had turned his stomach as soon as it had seemed like it was actually going to happen. The side of his face still stung from the slap she'd given him, but he'd felt incredibly relieved at the same time. The fact that he'd almost felt physically ill at the thought of betraying Castiel absolutely terrified him as he'd decided to ensure that nothing further happened between them. Something was clearly not right about the whole thing, after all, angels weren't supposed to be that bloodthirsty, were they?
Unfortunately Dean could remember only all too well the darker, wrathful side of the Bible and God as they'd once had a neighbor who'd been Old Testament obsessed when he was younger and she had scared the living crap out of him before his father had told him that it was all nonsense. So much for that theory. It was a pity that his father wasn't still alive to see how wrong he'd been on that one. But even taking into account the whole smite happy version of God and his angels that existed, something still didn't sit right with him about Castiel. Even that version of the Bible constantly talked about the purity of angels and all that crap, all of which was in direct contrast with what he'd experienced firsthand. It wasn't so much that he disliked the fact that the Bible clearly had the wrong end of the stick (quite the opposite in fact!), but rather that something didn't sit right with him about the whole thing.
Instead of validating his thoughts and consolidating his decision to keep things strictly platonic with Castiel from now on, it all only made Dean feel worse. The angel had somehow become his lifeline, the one thing that he could cling to in this whole mess and the one person who'd respected him enough to give him the truth and to break that bond felt like he was cutting a part of himself out. Yet that nagging suspicion that something wasn't right wouldn't go away either and the worst thing was that he felt like he should know what it was. Like it was on the tip of his tongue as it were but it just wouldn't come.
Dean was so out of sorts about the whole thing that when he found the article about the heart attack victim who had absolutely no right to have been a heart attack victim in a town next to two more such suspicious deaths that he decided to pass the buck. Despite his own stellar performance during the hunt in Canonsburg, he knew he was just too messed up to tempt fate and go for round two so quickly, so instead he pulled out his phone and called Roy, pretending that he and Sam were already working a case and couldn't take this new one. That wouldn't work more than a few times, but for now really needed it. It was also the reason why, when the angel came by again two days later, he didn't have a case to use as a convenient excuse to rush away.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel stated calmly, though his eyes were anything but.
"Look, Cas, I-"
"I require your assistance."
"Huh, what?"
"I am in need of your help, your expertise, if you are willing to give it."
"Uh, sure, what'd'a need?"
"You may wish to hold off on giving consent until you know what it is I require," Castiel stated seriously and Dean frowned, wondering what could possibly be going on now.
"Is it a seal?"
"No, it is something else that has come to my attention."
"Oh, and, so what is it?"
"A sylph, she has killed one child already and taken another in an attempt to force the parents to give her something which they can't part with."
"Sylph, wait that's an air elemental, right?"
"Yes."
"And what do you mean something that they can't part with?" Dean asked, already grabbing his usual weapons as there was no way he was going to just sit by while a child's life was in danger.
"It is something spiritual and would take longer to explain than we have the time for. Suffice it to say that the sylph misunderstands the nature of what she desires and doesn't comprehend that it can't be given to her."
"Okay, so what do you want me to do? Those things aren't even fully part of this dimension."
"I can force her into this dimension, but I cannot do that and concentrate on extracting the information from her at the same time."
The words froze Dean in place and he slowly ran over them in his head again before reacting. He was sure that he must have heard them wrong, but no, they still sounded exactly the same the second time around and he felt the blood drain from his face even as the bloodlust surged within him, singing in his veins. "What do you mean extract, Cas?"
"I mean what I say, Dean. I have reason to believe from what she told the parents that the child has been placed somewhere dangerous and will not survive for long if we do not find him soon. I would ask one of my brothers but they are all busy and you are more qualified for this task than they are."
Talk about a double edged blade, those words cut both ways, filling him with pride and revulsion at the same time. He'd protest except that he didn't want to risk the boy. His own fears about what this would do to him and his ability to control the bloodlust from here on out didn't matter in light of that innocent life that was on the line. But still...
"There is no sin in harming those who prey on the innocent," Castiel declared, stepping close. "They must be protected and if in this case it means using a knife with nonlethal force instead of a gun or axe with lethal force then thus it must be. I would do it myself if I could concentrate both on corporalizing her enough to feel the bite of a blade and wielding it at once, but if I were to shift my attention, the knife would pass right through her essence."
Dean still didn't like it (alright, so part of him loved it but he was ignoring that aspect of himself just now), but if an angel deemed it the best way to handle the situation then who was he to say otherwise? Besides, he might as well ensure that some good came out of what he'd experienced and done in Hell, right?
"Fine, beam me up, Scotty."
"I do not understand that reference."
Part 3
Pairings: Dean/Cas, Sam/Ruby
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Up to and including 4.07
Warnings: AU of season 4, slash, bottom!Dean, dom!Cas, torture, bare backing, dark, first time, orgasm denial
Word Count: 25,462
Note: This is a response to one of marourin's Everlasting Birthday Challenge prompts on the deancastiel comm. The prompt has been put at the end of the fic to prevent spoilers.
Summary: Castiel is unlike anything Dean expected an angel to be, arousing both terror and lust within him.
Part 1
When Dean woke it was hours later as the sky was already lightening and he realized with a start that this was the first time he'd slept for any significant amount of time without any nightmares. Then he remembered everything that had happened the previous day and sat bolt upright.
Shit, had he really? With an angel?
The soreness he'd felt upon changing position, however, left Dean in no doubt of the fact that he'd actually had sex with Castiel. He still didn't have a clue what had possessed him at the time, but just the mere thought of what they'd done was enough to make his mouth go dry and he could practically still feel the angel's touch on his skin. Could still feel the slight sting of the bite mark he no doubt possessed at the back of his neck. He had to admit, at least to himself, it had been amazing even if the creature still terrified him, not that it had prevented him from falling asleep next to him though. Or had Castiel used his mojo on him?
The thought made Dean shift uncomfortably, silently cursing himself for always managing to get himself into these situations. It was as he was doing so that he realized that he'd been covered with the blanket that he knew for a fact had been in the trunk of the Impala when he'd fallen asleep. His leather jacket had also been rolled into a makeshift pillow beneath his head. The care and thought behind both actions shook him up simply because it was more attention than he'd come to expect from even his own brother as of late.
"So he knows a little about human needs," Dean muttered, shrugging the blanket off and getting out of the car. "That doesn't mean anything. Still left me stuck in the middle of nowhere."
Automatically reaching for his phone so he could call Sam to get him a tow truck, Dean realized that his keys were missing from his pocket.
"What the hell?"
Frantically, Dean checked the other pocket, just in case he'd put them away there by mistake, but no such luck. Okay, so maybe they'd fallen out of his pocket during all of the activity last night, though as he turned around to start looking for them a glint of metal on the dashboard caught his eyes and he looked over. Sure enough, there lay his keys, somewhere he knew for certain he hadn't left them. Frowning, he opened the door and leaned in to snag them. What on Earth were they doing there? Or, more importantly, why had Castiel put them there as the angel was the only one who could have removed them from his pocket.
On a sudden hunch, Dean sat down in the driver's seat, put the key in the ignition and turned it. Sure enough, the motor responded instantly, coming to life and the needle for the gas gauge went from empty to full.
"Thanks, Cas," Dean said gratefully, a huge smile on his face before he stroked the dashboard. "There, baby, I'm sure that feels better, doesn't it?"
His good mood didn't last long, though as the events from the previous day came flooding back to him just as soon as Dean had gotten the Impala turned around and was heading back to the Willow Tree motel and his brother. In fact his mood got progressively darker the closer he got so that by the time he was faced with Sam and his attempts to make things out to be different than they were, he found himself punching his brother, twice. His plan to just pack and leave flew straight out the window with the confrontation and he seriously didn't know what would have happened if Travis hadn't interrupted them with that call to Sam. Part of his anger suddenly shifted away from his brother and onto Castiel. If only the angel had given him something more to work with then perhaps he'd be able to get through to his brother about the sheer stupidity of Sam's actions. After all that he'd just heard about being able to save more people with the use of demonically derived psychic powers than good old fashioned hunting techniques he knew that he needed all of the help he could get and the knowledge that angels wanted him to stop using those powers might be just what Sam needed to hear.
So why the hell hadn't Castiel given him that? Why hadn't the angel just come right out and said that he wanted Dean to get Sam to stop using his powers? Why had the creature merely told him that what his brother was doing was dangerous? Briefly he had a flash of the triumph and satisfaction he thought he'd glimpsed in Castiel's eyes when he'd dared slander God to the angel's face, but then he shoved it aside. Castiel wasn't the issue here, Sam was. Sam and his stupid, moronic and traitorous ideas and actions.
And since when had his brother been one to allow the ends to justify the means anyway?
If Dean were honest with himself then he had to admit that the tears that had shimmered in Sam's eyes had briefly gotten to him and he'd already been able to start feeling himself and his resolve slip like it always had in the past. Perhaps things weren't as bad as they seemed just now? Perhaps there was still time to prove to his brother that what he was doing was wrong and that Ruby was just there to use him and manipulate him into using his powers until he got past the point of no return. But then Sam had dared to try and turn it around onto him, trying to make it out to be his fault that this had happened because he hadn't been there and that had instantaneously brought the rage back in full force. How dare he? How dare Sam even think about using that when he'd not been there because he'd sacrificed himself for his brother?
Thankfully that had been the precise moment Travis had called, fortuitously interrupting their conversation and giving Dean something else to focus his attention on and he grabbed it with both hands. A case would provide him with the perfect distraction and allow him to keep an eye on his brother at the same time. While he wanted nothing more than to flee, he was too worried about what Sam and Ruby might do if he wasn't there (and hey, he already had more than enough proof that leaving those two alone together was a monumentally bad idea!). Besides, if they really were facing a looming Apocalypse, then they needed to stick together no matter how he felt about it.
Besides, if he happened to be alone then Castiel might return and Dean wasn't so sure that he could handle that just now. He still couldn't understand what had possessed him to kiss the angel last night, not to mention the fact that the sheer attraction he now felt for the creature and the slew of twisted emotions that welled up within him at the mere thought of Castiel still freaked him out to the point of outright terror.
No, there was definitely something to be said about safety in numbers at the moment even if he didn't particularly trust his brother further than he could throw Sam.
/
As they drove away from the ruins of their hunt and the still smoldering pyre of Travis' scanty remains, Dean found himself almost hating his baby for the first time in his life. It wasn't the Impala's fault but it just seemed like everything bad or complicated that had happened as of late had happened either in or around her. The wonderful and terrifying thing with Castiel, Sam's confession that he'd known about Azazel and the demon blood for nearly a year and hadn't seen fit to tell him, his brother's little explosion where Sam had tried to pretend that he was still perfectly capable of telling right from wrong and had once again tried to shift the blame for all of his behavior onto him, and finally this latest conversation where Sam tried to say it was his fault for not understanding before lying to his face about stopping. As if he'd simply believe that after all that had happened. He didn't think so. His brother had already promised him to stop using his powers once before and that had been nothing but a lie, so why would this be any different? As for the rest, the mere idea that he deserved to be lied to just because he wouldn't agree with Sam on everything infuriated him to no end. The worst part was that his brother had to know that what he was doing was wrong or he'd never have felt the need to lie about it. So much for Sam being above the hypocrisy his brother had always accused him of.
For all that Sam liked to claim he was being righteous, he now realized that his brother was actually self-righteous.
The way Dean saw it Ruby had managed to twist Sam around so much that his brother actually seemed to believe all the bullshit he was spouting even if some part of him realized how wrong it. Well if his brother wanted to do that, then fine, two could play at that game. He'd had another brief flare of hope that Sam wasn't quite as bad as he'd thought when his brother had seemed to revert back to his old self, challenging the experienced hunter and claiming to know better, but then he'd realized that no, the only thing that had changed was that he'd been placed squarely in the same category as Travis and Dad in Sam's mind and now was thus someone to be sneered at and circumvented as often as possible. He bet that if he were to point out that Travis would most likely still be alive if they'd just done this their friend's way he would be met with nothing but scorn from his brother and some handy excuse before Sam lied to his face yet again.
Dean's hands tightened on the wheel at the thought. At least he felt vindicated for having had absolutely no problem with jumping straight onto the whole 'gank the son of bitch' bandwagon right from the start. If only he hadn't doubted himself so much and assumed that the bloodlust he'd been fighting off since returning topside had been influencing him, then Travis and himself could have taken care of the problem while Sam had his little hissy fit.
"You should not have let your brother talk you out of killing the rugaru right away," Castiel stated the next day.
"I know," Dean replied, fists clenching even as he wondered what he was doing.
He'd come out of the shower to find his brother gone and the angel waiting for him. The rush of emotions within him had prompted Dean to start venting about the case, vainly hoping to distract himself both from them and from the thoughts of what he'd done with Castiel the last time they'd been together.
"You should have struck him down right away."
"Next time I will," Dean muttered, heart tripping within his chest as he suddenly realized how close the creature had come. "Cas, what?"
"You doubted yourself."
It was nothing short of horrifying the way Castiel seemed to be able to just look him in the eye and read him like an open book. Dean absolutely hated being that vulnerable with anyone but especially with someone with whom he'd been as intimate as this creature. The only thing that kept him from bolting was the fact that for whatever reason the angel chose to remain after having seen him for who and what he truly was. That was a gift he never thought he'd receive from anyone and it rooted him to the stop, rendering him completely unable to move or tear his eyes away from the ethereal blue gaze.
"You shouldn't," Castiel stated firmly. "Those that would seek to prey on innocents deserve no mercy and should be put to death or made to suffer for their crimes."
"Whoa, a little bloodthirsty there, buddy," Dean replied, eyes wide.
The sentiment did absolutely nothing to help him rein in the desire he kept having to bury of finding something to sink his knife into. Yes even his best knife wasn't nearly as nice as those he'd wielded in Hell, but he was sure he could make do. After all, Alastair had often praised him for his resourcefulness and creativity. The thought thrilled him and made him sick at the same time and he absently wondered if he was doomed forevermore to experience dual conflicting emotions about nearly everything from here on out. It definitely seemed that way to him just now. Had something become so completely twisted inside of him while in the Pit that he now craved the depraved and the corrupted?
But what did that say about his desire for Castiel? Was he seeking to defile a Heavenly being?
Castiel chuckled, easily invading his personal space and herding him back against a wall, making Dean's heart race with fear now instead of just lust. "So precious," the angel murmured under his breath.
"What?" Dean demanded.
"It is little wonder you caught my eye and fascinated me from the beginning," Castiel stated, a hand coming up to stroke his face.
Dean's eyes widened and he swallowed thickly at what he suddenly saw in those eyes. At this moment there was absolutely no mistaking that the creature before him was a supernatural being, an incredibly powerful supernatural being. Age, power, darkness and something he couldn't quite define shone in those blue depths making him weak in the knees like some fucking girl and it took all of his willpower not to sink down to his knees in worship. He licked his dry lips nervously and didn't miss the way those eyes focused on the action and followed his tongue, a new fire kindling in their depths. The mere thought that this creature, this being, this angel, wanted him both terrified and aroused him like always and the urge to simply roll over and submit, or at least the equivalent thereof, rose within Dean so swiftly and powerfully that he swayed slightly under the force of it. It was all that he could do not to just give in to it and he whimpered slightly, the memory of the last time and the exquisite pleasure of it coming back to him full force.
"Shh," Castiel soothed, pulling him close and running a hand down his back. "Why do you fight it, Dean? I am infinitely more powerful than you can imagine and I could kill you with a mere thought."
The words sent a thrill of fear down Dean's spine but instead of it negating his desire to just give in completely and submit to the angel before him, it merely served to greaten his arousal and wish to be taken and claimed by Castiel. It made no sense and yet his fear and lust seemed hopelessly intertwined and served only to make him more aroused than he'd ever felt before in his life.
"So, in light of those facts, what shame is there in submitting to me?" Castiel questioned softly, seductively, right into his ear.
Dean's breath hitched, feeling completely overwhelmed and surrounded by the angel. Embarrassing little noises fell from his lips and those clever fingers played his body like an instrument. And really, what shame was there? He knew the power of the creature and knew that he didn't even rate as a nuisance on the power scale when compared to Castiel. It was just that part of him still resisted the idea, it fought to be heard while the rest of him simply wanted to give into the pleasure and fulfillment that awaited him.
"Just let go, Dean, you deserve it."
The sound alone of that dark, gravelly voice was enough to make Dean harden painfully further and he mewled unthinkingly, needing it.
"Give yourself to me, submit, and let me take care of you."
Liquid sex, that's what Castiel's voice was and it distracted Dean from the creature's actual words for a few seconds, but then they penetrated. Let me take care of you. How long had it been since anyone had taken care of him? Since anyone had wanted to take care of him? Far too long and even then it had been someone who hadn't truly known him and would probably have run screaming for the hills if they'd known the truth. That wasn't the case here, with Castiel. The angel knew him in a way no one else ever had, knew what he'd done and most likely knew of the bloodlust he still struggled with, and still Castiel chose to be here with him. Chose to do this for him.
With a broken little sound, Dean caved and allowed himself to go completely pliant in the angel's arms. Castiel reacted instantly, pulling his head down for a dominating kiss before they were suddenly on the bed, both of them completely naked. He sputtered in surprise but it quickly turned to a strangled moan as the angel got right to claiming his submission and in less time than he'd have thought possible, he felt his orgasm approaching. He was climbing ever higher until fingers curled around the base of his cock, cutting him off and denying him which made him whine.
"Not until I'm inside of you," Castiel commanded.
Then do it, Dean wanted to shout but found that he couldn't force the words out past the pleas that were already falling from his lips. The sentiment must have gotten through, though, as the angel easily flipped him and then he was pulling his knees under him and instinctively spreading his legs, making himself easier to mount. He mewled as he realized what he'd done and why, but Castiel was already on him, one finger shoved roughly inside of him. Everything was harder and faster this time and he knew it was because now the angel was staking a claim, taking what he'd freely offered and dominating him in every way possible and ensuring that he'd feel it the next day and remember his willing submission.
The thought was nearly enough to make Dean come and it took all of his willpower not to shove himself back on the fingers inside of him. He'd decided to let Castiel take charge here and he wasn't going to go back on that. Despite the thirty years of absolute helplessness on Alastair's rack, he felt nothing but bliss and the relief of not having to be the one in charge here, of not having to make all of the decisions and worry about what they meant or the damage they could cause. No, this was just about letting go and being himself without any restraints or fear of what Castiel would think of him.
This was freedom. Freedom and pleasure with just enough fear and pain thrown into the mix to drive him completely mad.
By the time Castiel was pushing into him, Dean was ready to come again and the angel had to hold him off once more as the creature draped himself over him, forcing him to take their combined weight or be crushed into the mattress. The electrical charge of Castiel's power sizzled along each and every nerve ending, making the hair all over his body stand on end and ensuring that he was intimately aware of the fact that he was in bed with a supernatural being. That he'd voluntarily submitted to such a powerful creature that he couldn't even stand to see its true form without having his eyes burnt out of his skull.
The knowledge only served to thrill Dean even more.
The pleasure was coming hard and fast now, so soaked in fear and awe as to be overwhelming and Dean's whole body was shuddering under the strain of it and his pending orgasm that he wasn't aware of the angel's hand creeping up along his arm towards the brand that marked him as the creature's. He did, however, feel it the instant Castiel sealed his hand over the scar. His whole world exploded into lust, love and a possessiveness so intense he couldn't even comprehend it and then everything went black.
/
By the time Dean had woken up the next morning not only had Castiel gone, but Sam had gotten back, telling him that Bobby had called with a new case for them and pretending that he hadn't snuck off the previous evening to go see his demonic girlfriend. Well if that was the way his brother wanted to play it, then that was fine by him. It definitely beat banging his head against a brick wall the whole time, especially when said wall didn't give a damn if he injured himself in the process.
Dean found it surprisingly easy to slip into a role and even easier to convince his brother that it was real and if that didn't say anything about the state of their current relationship then he didn't know what did. It kinda fascinated him how easily Sam could turn everything off and pretend that all was normal between them, but it also freaked him the hell out and made him that much more determined to stick to his act. Pretending to be fascinated with whether or not his resurrection had rehymenated him and making it look like he was desperate to correct that particular flaw made it infinitely easier to keep in mind that he couldn't trust his brother anymore no matter how normal Sam might be acting at the moment.
In addition the act allowed Dean to cover up how shaken he still was about his encounter with Castiel. Not only couldn't he believe that he'd actually put himself completely at the creature's mercy like that, but also about what he'd felt when the angel had touched his... brand. It freaked him out in a way he hadn't experienced in a very long time. It had only taken a few short years of Alastair's company to learn that nothing was sacred and that the demon would and could use every tool at his disposal in Alastair's desperate attempt to break him. Well, every tool except rape. That one still didn't make any sense to him no matter how much he pondered it. Not that he wasn't incredibly grateful, but still, Alastair had left no other stone unturned, so why not this one?
Regardless, the fact remained that Dean had long since learned to expect the worst to happen to him but that still hadn't prepared him for the sheer possessiveness he'd felt radiating from the angel just before Castiel had come. It made him feel like a piece of meat almost, a thing to be taken and owned and he didn't give a fuck that he'd placed himself in that position, he'd never expected it to be like that. Some possessiveness, sure, he'd spent far too long with Alastair not to have come to expect some proprietariness from the creature that had rescued him, but not that. Never that. It was... and then the rest, the... other emotions...
No, no, no and just no. It was wrong and he'd made a mistake, a big, horrible mistake and Dean knew it. Yet, despite all of that, he found that he just couldn't stop himself from thinking about the angel whenever he had a spare moment. Like about what it had felt like to submit to Castiel, to give up all control and to just let the creature take charge and take care of him for once. It was indescribable and that was without thinking about the actual sex which had been so fantastically good that it made him hard just to think about it and he'd already had to bail twice just so he could go jack himself off somewhere because he'd allowed his thoughts to stray to those two nights. Fuck but he'd never had sex that good before in his life.
He'd thrown himself at the bar wench whose name Dean couldn't even remember now all the harder because of this but it hadn't worked. Oh he'd managed to convince her to go out with him in the end, but then he'd been the one to bail as the thought of going back to her place and taking her had turned his stomach as soon as it had seemed like it was actually going to happen. The side of his face still stung from the slap she'd given him, but he'd felt incredibly relieved at the same time. The fact that he'd almost felt physically ill at the thought of betraying Castiel absolutely terrified him as he'd decided to ensure that nothing further happened between them. Something was clearly not right about the whole thing, after all, angels weren't supposed to be that bloodthirsty, were they?
Unfortunately Dean could remember only all too well the darker, wrathful side of the Bible and God as they'd once had a neighbor who'd been Old Testament obsessed when he was younger and she had scared the living crap out of him before his father had told him that it was all nonsense. So much for that theory. It was a pity that his father wasn't still alive to see how wrong he'd been on that one. But even taking into account the whole smite happy version of God and his angels that existed, something still didn't sit right with him about Castiel. Even that version of the Bible constantly talked about the purity of angels and all that crap, all of which was in direct contrast with what he'd experienced firsthand. It wasn't so much that he disliked the fact that the Bible clearly had the wrong end of the stick (quite the opposite in fact!), but rather that something didn't sit right with him about the whole thing.
Instead of validating his thoughts and consolidating his decision to keep things strictly platonic with Castiel from now on, it all only made Dean feel worse. The angel had somehow become his lifeline, the one thing that he could cling to in this whole mess and the one person who'd respected him enough to give him the truth and to break that bond felt like he was cutting a part of himself out. Yet that nagging suspicion that something wasn't right wouldn't go away either and the worst thing was that he felt like he should know what it was. Like it was on the tip of his tongue as it were but it just wouldn't come.
Dean was so out of sorts about the whole thing that when he found the article about the heart attack victim who had absolutely no right to have been a heart attack victim in a town next to two more such suspicious deaths that he decided to pass the buck. Despite his own stellar performance during the hunt in Canonsburg, he knew he was just too messed up to tempt fate and go for round two so quickly, so instead he pulled out his phone and called Roy, pretending that he and Sam were already working a case and couldn't take this new one. That wouldn't work more than a few times, but for now really needed it. It was also the reason why, when the angel came by again two days later, he didn't have a case to use as a convenient excuse to rush away.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel stated calmly, though his eyes were anything but.
"Look, Cas, I-"
"I require your assistance."
"Huh, what?"
"I am in need of your help, your expertise, if you are willing to give it."
"Uh, sure, what'd'a need?"
"You may wish to hold off on giving consent until you know what it is I require," Castiel stated seriously and Dean frowned, wondering what could possibly be going on now.
"Is it a seal?"
"No, it is something else that has come to my attention."
"Oh, and, so what is it?"
"A sylph, she has killed one child already and taken another in an attempt to force the parents to give her something which they can't part with."
"Sylph, wait that's an air elemental, right?"
"Yes."
"And what do you mean something that they can't part with?" Dean asked, already grabbing his usual weapons as there was no way he was going to just sit by while a child's life was in danger.
"It is something spiritual and would take longer to explain than we have the time for. Suffice it to say that the sylph misunderstands the nature of what she desires and doesn't comprehend that it can't be given to her."
"Okay, so what do you want me to do? Those things aren't even fully part of this dimension."
"I can force her into this dimension, but I cannot do that and concentrate on extracting the information from her at the same time."
The words froze Dean in place and he slowly ran over them in his head again before reacting. He was sure that he must have heard them wrong, but no, they still sounded exactly the same the second time around and he felt the blood drain from his face even as the bloodlust surged within him, singing in his veins. "What do you mean extract, Cas?"
"I mean what I say, Dean. I have reason to believe from what she told the parents that the child has been placed somewhere dangerous and will not survive for long if we do not find him soon. I would ask one of my brothers but they are all busy and you are more qualified for this task than they are."
Talk about a double edged blade, those words cut both ways, filling him with pride and revulsion at the same time. He'd protest except that he didn't want to risk the boy. His own fears about what this would do to him and his ability to control the bloodlust from here on out didn't matter in light of that innocent life that was on the line. But still...
"There is no sin in harming those who prey on the innocent," Castiel declared, stepping close. "They must be protected and if in this case it means using a knife with nonlethal force instead of a gun or axe with lethal force then thus it must be. I would do it myself if I could concentrate both on corporalizing her enough to feel the bite of a blade and wielding it at once, but if I were to shift my attention, the knife would pass right through her essence."
Dean still didn't like it (alright, so part of him loved it but he was ignoring that aspect of himself just now), but if an angel deemed it the best way to handle the situation then who was he to say otherwise? Besides, he might as well ensure that some good came out of what he'd experienced and done in Hell, right?
"Fine, beam me up, Scotty."
"I do not understand that reference."
Part 3