At Death's Door
Series Title: Purgatory Trilogy
Title: At Death's Door
Pairings: Dean/Cas, mentioned Dean/Death
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: up to 6.22
Warnings: AU, slash, bottom!Dean, top!Cas, bare backing
Word Count: 8,394
Note: This fic is the second in the Purgatory Trilogy and it won't make sense if you haven't read Little Deaths first. It was written for the Castiel entry on the July 2011 community bingo card over at the dean_slash comm, though that was closed long ago.
Summary: "You on your knees swearing your allegiance and love to him will be enough to blind him to all else."
Little Deaths
Dean's first impulse after Death had left was to pace back and forth but he quickly found that his ass hurt far too much for that.
And, no, Dean wasn't going to think too closely on why it did. Simply the mere memory of doing that with Death was enough to make him whimper as the maelstrom of confusing and conflicting emotions rose within him once more. Just the thought of how amazing it had felt to experience that final disconnect from the body for such an extended period of time instead of the fleeting euphoria it had always been before during his actual deaths was enough to make him moan. Those ephemeral seconds had always been the best thing that he'd ever experienced even if they were so fleeting and hard to remember when he was resurrected, so to feel them over an extended period of time while also having mind-blowing sex at the same time? It was simply indescribable and almost more than he could handle.
At the same time as his mind spiraled higher and higher on the sheer pleasure of the memory, Dean could feel his body reacting in fear, experiencing what would in any other circumstances be mind-numbing terror. To that part of him the mere thought of what had just transpired was nothing short of horrifying and he wanted nothing more than to run away from the reality of it and curl up somewhere safe and never think of it again, much less know that he had to experience it again if he was to get rid of whatever Death had done to him so that he could rescue Castiel from the souls of Purgatory.
From the power transference that Death had given him.
The thought made Dean shudder. Overall, logically, he knew that he should be running screaming for the hills just about now like any sane person would do. Well, any sane person who had somehow managed to get himself into the situation he just had, not that they could be very sane given that prerequisite, but the sentiment held all the same. So the fact that a part of him- the fact that any part of him- didn't feel that way was almost inconceivable to him right up to the moment where he allowed himself to think about what it felt like to have Death touching him.
Trust him to be a junkie for the sensation of death itself. No wonder he had allowed Death to do what he had to him. On some level Dean knew he'd been lost the moment the horseman had first touched him and he'd survived the experience; he'd been hooked from that first moment of euphoria. Before that he'd always struggled to remember the final moments of each time that he'd died but Death's touch had blown those doors wide open and allowed the memories to come flooding back in. That final disconnect with the body and whole floating white light thing had captivated him as easily today as it had each time that he'd actually died and it was as alluring to him as the proverbial flame was to the poor doomed moth that flew right into it, chasing some unknown high.
Dean had found that he couldn't not reach out for it, not with it being right there in front of him. Add to that the fact that Death had offered him the opportunity to save Castiel and everyone who was in danger from the new smite happy god the angel had become and he'd been a goner. Hook, line and sink 'em. His laugh had a desperate edge to it that he tried to ignore. He'd always been willing to risk himself for those he cared about, nor had he ever had much willpower when it came to resisting sex, so with the two combined it was pretty much a certainty that he'd be on board with Death's insane little plan. He couldn't help but wonder if that made him easy in the horseman's eyes?
The thought made Dean uncomfortable, still completely unable to believe that he'd actually, voluntarily, had sex with Death, much less bottomed for the horseman. Just how the hell had he gotten himself into this situation in the first place? Unfortunately that only brought up other memories that he didn't want to think about and he desperately wished that he hadn't thrown his bottle of Jack against the wall as he could really, really, really use a drink right about now. He snorted, who was he trying to kid? He could really use the whole freaking bottle right about now.
Just as it had before, simply the thought of what had happened to Castiel was enough to make Dean feel ill and he closed his eyes as he recalled the way his friend had sounded, standing before them and demanding that they bow down and profess their love unto him or be destroyed. It had broken something inside of him to hear his angel say that to them and each time he thought of it, it only aggravated the wound so that he now felt raw and open, slowly bleeding to death. It would almost have been a blessing in a way, the moment where the creature (his mind shied away from actually calling it Castiel) had finally killed them, as then he wouldn't have had to live with what had happened anymore.
But not now. Not anymore.
Dean raised his head and squared his shoulders. While he didn't want to think any more than he had to on exactly what he'd had to do in order to obtain it, the fact remained that now he had a means of doing something about the situation. Of saving his friend. All that he had to do was dig up the courage to put Death's plan into action. He'd agreed to it very readily when the horseman had offered it to him as he'd known precisely how dire their situation was here, but now he found that he had some serious questions about the plan. Death had made it all sound so simple when the horseman had told him what to do. Kiss Castiel, that was all, and the power transference would take care of the rest, no biggie. Right?
Wrong.
How the hell was he even supposed to get close enough to the creature in order to be able to kiss Castiel?
"You on your knees swearing your allegiance and love to him will be enough to blind him to all else."
The echo of Death's words, even if only in his head, was enough to make Dean swallow thickly. Earlier he'd realized that it would be the only way to make this plan work and he hadn't thought of anything better since then, but still he hesitated. They were talking about an extremely powerful being here after all. Castiel as he was now could have anything- anyone- why would he care about one pathetic, broken human? Especially one who'd treated him so abysmally in the past few months? Besides, the angel had made his own thoughts as far as he was concerned more than clear lately as well. So to say that he had doubts that this plan of Death's would work was an understatement to say the least. But it was something and he had absolutely nothing else.
With that cheerful thought, Dean steeled himself for what he had to do. At worst he'd get 'destroyed' ahead of schedule while the potential rewards if things went well were almost unthinkable. His friend back, safe and sound, Castiel once more instead of some power hungry and hyped up on Purgatory souls wannabe god- now that was more than worth any risk that he might have to take in order to achieve it. And besides, if he didn't hurry up and get his ass in gear, then Sam and Bobby would get back and he'd be risking their lives in more way that one. He shuddered as he recalled the warning that Death had given him.
Throughout this whole ordeal Dean had been very careful to not think too hard about just what it was that Death had actually done to him, or rather what this power transference had done to him, and he had absolutely no desire to find out firsthand what would happen if he touched anyone other than Castiel. He felt different now and had since he'd first recovered on the floor after it. He was cold, oh so very, very cold, the chill extending all the way down inside him, so far that it made the term bone deep sound pathetically shallow. Even worse, the cold seemed to be alive somehow, wrapping his very essence up in its cloying embrace to the point where he was sure that he'd never feel warm again. It reminded him horribly of what Death himself had felt like; kissing, touching and...
Yeah, that.
On some level it was kinda like wearing Death's ring all over again, but in other ways that Dean couldn't describe it felt different somehow. Worse and far more potent, which made sense in a way if he considered that this wasn't like wearing a ring that merely belonged to the strongest of the four horsemen, but was rather a part of Death himself. And no, he totally wasn't thinking about that anymore, not even considering what he'd already done with the horseman in question. There were some things even his mind simply couldn't cope with.
Instead Dean stepped into the middle of the room and considered the best way to do this. Death had definitely been right about the whole kneeling thing, but how? Should he go down on one knee, or both? Although it grated his ego, he knew that it was probably best to go down onto both knees as it was far more submissive and that seemed to be what the creature was after now. Slowly, he lowered himself into position, hissing as it stretched the skin of his ass and thighs. It definitely felt like frostbite back there, not that his cock was doing much better, having been encased in what felt like ice rather than a hand.
Dean shoved those thoughts aside and instead placed his hands on his legs and lowered his head. Well, here went nothing.
"Cas? Uh, my Lord, I mean. I... uh," Dean began and cursed himself mentally. "Look, can I, please, talk to you? I... I'm ready."
"Ready for what?"
The words were cold and came from directly behind him. It was all that Dean could do not to jump in surprise despite his position. Twisting, he looked behind him to see that yes, Castiel stood there in all of his newfound godly glory. Quickly he dropped his eyes again submissively and bowed his head. The former angel made a little noise at that which sounded somewhat startled to him but he didn't look up even when Castiel started to walk around him.
"My Lord," Dean repeated, desperately hoping that Death was right and that the former angel wouldn't be able to sense the change within him.
"Where are the others?" Castiel demanded from beside him.
"Out, they don't know that I'm doing this." Any of it.
"I see."
There was a touch to his shoulder and Dean was surprised at the heat of it. Castiel had always run inhumanly hot but now he was like a veritable furnace and it was a shock to his system after the icy cold of Death. At the cold that he still felt all inside of him, right down to his very soul he now feared. The fingers trailed over his shoulder to the back of his neck and the exposed skin there where they lingered, causing him to tremble lightly at the mere thought of all the power the former angel now possessed. The power he could even now feel crackling in the air all around him and sparking along his skin where Castiel touched him.
Dean lowered his head even more in response to it and the hand came to rest in his hair.
"Ready for what?" Castiel repeated softly. "Ready to profess your love unto me?"
"Yes," Dean replied, raising his head slightly and the hand slid down the side of his head to cup his face as he looked up. "I love you."
It was with a shock that Dean realized that it was true, he meant those words with every fiber of his being. The sheer shock of what had happened and the very real fear that he'd lost Castiel to something far worse than death had forced him to confront just how much his friend had come to mean to him and that knowledge now crystalized into something new and far more potent then he'd ever realized. But as he knelt there, having allowed Death to alter him in some unknown but fundamental way, there was no more escaping the fact and it shook him to his very core, making him tremble slightly at the knowledge of just how much hung in the balance here. Not only for the rest of the world, but for him as well. He didn't think that he could survive losing something so important to him again, not after everything that had already happened to him.
He needed Castiel, the real Castiel, back.
Even from his submissive and vulnerable position on the floor, Dean could see the way Castiel's eyes flared at his declaration and he could only hope that his feelings were returned. It was highly unlikely after everything that had happened between them this past year and all that his angel had said shortly before opening the doorway to Purgatory, but that wouldn't stop him. After all, it wouldn't be the first time that he risked himself for people who didn't care nearly as much about him as he did for them.
"Please, my Lord, allow me to prove my sincerity and devotion," Dean requested, lowering his eyes submissively, respectfully.
The words tasted like ash in his mouth, but Dean forced them to come out evenly. Though he'd never beg for his own life or skin, he was more than ready to do it for others if he had any indication that it might work and given what Castiel had said before about being a better God there was definitely an indication thereof. Besides, his power and soul high friend had made his desire for what he wanted as far as he and the others were concerned more than clear.
"You will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord."
Once again Castiel made a small noise that Dean was unable to identify before the hand on his face tightened and the air all around him crackled, causing the hairs on his arms to rise on end. He made an involuntary sound of his own as the unimaginable power washed over him. His eyes closed as he tried to cope with it, his whole body trembling under the onslaught. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it ended and his friend released his face.
"You may," Castiel stated and it took Dean a moment to unscramble his thoughts enough to recall what he'd requested.
This was it then, then moment of truth. So far so good, but Dean was by no means a believer in happy endings and wouldn't be convinced of a good outcome here until it actually happened. Slowly, carefully, he rose to his feet, keeping his head respectfully lowered until he was ready, not only to help further the ruse but also because he was afraid that his eyes would give him away otherwise. Castiel had spent far too much time looking him in the eye in the past not to be able to sense that something was going on here if he gave his friend the chance to study him like that for more than a moment.
With a last deep breath to steel himself, Dean raised his head to look the self-proclaimed God in the eyes before he slowly leaned down to kiss him. There was another flare of something in Castiel's eyes and then the furnace hot hand was back on his face accompanied by its twin, pulling him close. The moment their lips touched all coherent thought fled. Kissing Castiel was like kissing a lightning bolt or a live wire. It was all heat and power and electricity and he couldn't have stopped even if his life depended on it.
Dean moaned, vaguely aware of his hands clutching at Castiel, as heat flooded into him and he felt like he was burning alive. The feeling from before, from his last kiss with Death, was back. The feeling that he was literally sucking something into himself without meaning to, only now instead of an intense cold, it was an intense all-encompassing heat. It filled him like the cold had, consuming everything that he was and burning brighter than he'd ever known any fire to, brighter even then the angels he'd seen go supernova when they'd died.
It was just as Castiel started to struggle against him that Dean finally realized what was happening.
He was literally sucking the Purgatory souls out of his friend and into himself.
The thought terrified Dean but he couldn't stop. Hell, even Castiel with all of his newfound powers seemed totally incapable of stopping him. For all that his friend was now struggling in his grip, fighting to break free, Castiel wasn't succeeding. Somehow his grasp, which should have been nothing to an angel, let alone a being powerful enough to proclaim itself God, was more than enough to keep Castiel right where he was, their lips pressed together in a parody of a lover's embrace as he stole the lost souls from his fallen friend. He could feel them as they entered him, chasing out the icy cold faster than he'd ever have thought possible and replacing it with an ever increasing heat that made him wonder if he'd go from freezing to death to burning alive.
He wasn't entirely sure which would be better.
The thought made the urge to laugh rise within Dean even as it frightened him and it was like opening the door to fear and more just came flooding in. As he pulled more and more souls from his friend, he could begin to feel them affecting him as they had the angel. A sense of power and self-righteousness was rising within him, not yet powerful enough to take over and seem like it was his right to do whatever he wanted, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before it did take over and that absolutely terrified him. If these souls had managed to corrupt Castiel, the best angel that he'd ever known, then what chance in Hell did he stand of not succumbing to them as well? Had this been Death's plan all along? To transfer the souls from someone that he couldn't touch due to his agreement with God to someone that he could kill? He definitely wouldn't put it past the horseman.
Despite his growing suspicions, Dean found that he wouldn't stop what he was doing even if he could. Castiel didn't deserve what had happened to him even if his friend had brought it upon himself. The angel had sincerely been doing what he thought best and it wasn't really Castiel's fault that he didn't have enough experience with free will yet to know how badly things could turn out despite starting out with the best of intentions. The road to Hell and all of that, which was highly ironic given that Castiel had already been to Hell and that the experience hadn't managed to taint his friend in the slightest.
More souls flooded into Dean and his thoughts turned darker. While it was true that Castiel hadn't known any better, he had and he'd told his friend as much, but had Castiel listened to him? No, of course not. It wasn't like he'd proved himself to the angel over and over and over again since they'd first met each other or anything. So, really, why should Castiel have listened to him, right?
Anger and indignation rose within Dean the more he thought about it. He'd always done his best to help Castiel so really he hadn't deserved to be treated the way that his friend had treated him. Just the mere thought of being shoved into that alternate dimension or into an alternate timeline were enough to enrage him. He'd have thought that Castiel would have learned better than to be so arrogant after the whole Apocalypse fiasco. Sam and himself had proven that they could face archangels before and without Castiel's help too! So how dare the little angel think that he had any right to decide whether or not he got involved when things were going bad once more? It was his right, damnit, he was the Righteous Man after all, the one whose coming had been prophesized in Bible itself.
It wasn't his place to bow down to anyone. They should all be bowing to him!
When he was sure that he had the last of the lost souls, Dean released Castiel and pulled back enough to look the traitor in the face. His fury grew hotter and brighter as he thought of Castiel's earlier threats. How dare the little angel even think about destroying him? Him who'd done so much for Castiel, having shown him the way to freedom from Michael and Zachariah's slavery and helped him get rid of his shackles. Him who'd been chosen by God Himself!
"Dean, no," Castiel whispered, anguish in every word.
"No?" Dean repeated, snarling. "No, what? Not happy that I'm the powerful one now and you're back to your old pathetic weak self?"
"Dean-"
"Kneel," Dean ordered, using his new powers to force the angel down. "Now it's time for you to profess your love unto me, your new Lord."
When Castiel moved to lower his head, Dean snarled and grabbed a fistful of hair to force the angel's head back. No way was he going to let Castiel try and lie to him like he had to the angel before. It wasn't until he looked right into Castiel's eyes and saw his own reflection cast back at him that he realized that his eyes and mouth were glowing just like Claire and Jimmy's had when Castiel had moved from one to the other in that abandoned warehouse. The visible display of power pleased him until he started to feel the souls beginning to stir inside of him. Whereas before they'd been shoved together within him, now they were moving and... swirling.
Swirling like water going down a drain.
"No!" Dean screamed, stumbling back and clutching at his head.
"Dean?" Castiel demanded, rising to his feet.
He was losing the souls, Dean realized with horror. They were doing the equivalent of swirling water down the drain only he didn't quite know what the drain was or where they were going, just that he was losing them. Furious he tried to grab hold of them, to prevent them from escaping, but they slipped through his fingers like ephemeral ghosts and he screamed in fury, catching sight of Castiel moving closer to him as he did so.
"No! Stay back!" Dean cried out, flinging a hand out and sending the angel crashing straight through the far wall and into the kitchen.
Castiel would not take the souls back from him, he wouldn't! The more that Dean tried to stop the souls from going, the faster they seemed to vanish and he was so focused on that it took him a while to realize that the center of the vortex was the one part of him that had remained ice cold throughout, somehow resisting even the furnace of the souls. Death. That thrice damned horseman was behind this! Death had planned this all along, it had never been the horseman's intention to allow him to keep the souls. He'd bet anything that Death was even now stealing them for himself, as if Death didn't have enough power to begin with! Maybe that was how the horseman believed that he'd be able to reap God Himself, because he was slowly amassing soul power for himself from every living creature that he killed!
Dean was starting to grow cold once more, the heat of the souls vanishing with the souls themselves and the chill was back at the edges of his awareness, slowly creeping back in as his power drained away from him. It wasn't fair, he'd earned that power! It was his due after all of the years of struggling and hunting that he'd done and all of the crap that he'd put up with, especially from the angels. It was his right as the chosen of God, the one-
Horror swept in as Dean became aware of his own thoughts. How could he even think that? It was wrong on so many levels that he didn't even know where to begin. As his mind cleared a little more and he was able to make sense of what had happened, he felt even worse and his knees buckled beneath him. He'd allowed the power of the Purgatory souls to consume him just as it had Castiel when his friend had taken them into himself. Oh God, Castiel!
"Cas?" Dean croaked out, looking towards the new hole in the wall. "Cas?"
"Dean."
The voice right next to him made Dean jump, but then he turned and grabbed him friend, pulling Castiel close into a rare huge. He clutched at his friend for a moment, silently thankful that the angel was alive and back with him before he pulled back. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"
"I am fine, Dean."
"You sure? I threw you through a wall!"
"Yes, but you didn't prevent me from healing myself."
"Oh," Dean replied before the memory of sending his friend flying into, and through, the wall flashed before his eyes once more and he felt sick. "Shit, dude, I'm sorry, I don't know wha-"
Castiel's hand came up to cover his mouth and Dean absently noted that it was now just the warmer than normal heat of the angel instead of the furnace heat from before. "Dean, you have nothing to apologize for, not after all that I did and especially not since you were only trying to save me."
"But I-"
"Was overwhelmed by the sheer power and malevolence of the souls, just like I was. Neither of us stood a chance against that, not with the sheer number of them that there were. Those who go to Purgatory are by definition not clean and pure souls. The human ones among them may not be entirely lost, but the supernatural ones most definitely are and we are talking countless millennia worth of creatures. There was never a chance and it was only my sheer arrogance that allowed me to believe otherwise beforehand and for that I can never even begin to apologize to you and everyone else enough for."
"You were only trying to help and keep Raphael from freeing Michael and Lucifer."
"But you knew that it wouldn't end well and I should have listened to your repeated warnings."
That was the truth and Dean didn't have anything to say to it. Although he knew that there was much that he could have done better throughout the last year, in the end Castiel had ignored all of his warnings and gone ahead and done what he'd wanted to. Thinking about what his friend had been like made Dean shiver and once he started he couldn't really stop, the icy coldness back inside of him enough to have drained away all of the remaining heat that he'd had left from the souls.
"Dean?" Castiel questioned, frowning.
"Cold," Dean complained.
With just a moment's hesitation, Castiel reached out and pulled him close. Dean stiffened at first, but as his friend's inhuman heat started to soak into him, he relaxed and clung to his angel. He closed his eyes and tried to banish the memories of the past few days from his mind and just bask in the closeness between them now. His mind, however, simply refused to shut down entirely, instead choosing to focus on his recent revelation and what it meant for the future. Was there any chance that Castiel returned his feelings? And even if he did, would his angel want to act on those emotions or was that forbidden? Then there was also the fact that, now with Raphael being dead, Castiel probably had a lot to do in Heaven so there was a good chance that his friend would just fly off and not return, much as he had right after they'd defeated Lucifer and Michael. After all, why would now be any different when Heaven needed Castiel?
It wasn't like he could even hope to compete with Heaven.
"Dean, what did you do?" Castiel finally asked and Dean could hear an undercurrent of fear in his friend's tone. "How were you able to do what you did and where did those souls go?"
"Back to Purgatory, I think."
"You think?"
Dean shrugged. "I'm not actually sure. We could ask Death when he comes back, but he seemed pretty interested in just getting rid of them and restoring the natural order of things to what they're supposed to be, which was disrupted when you opened the door to Purgatory and took the souls."
Castiel flinched against him but didn't protest his words, choosing to focus on something else entirely as Dean was pulled back so that his friend could look at his face.
"Death? You allowed Death to do something to you? To change you so fundamentally?"
Ah, so it seemed like Castiel had finally noticed just how different he was right now. "Uh, I-"
"Dean."
He nearly flinched at the way his friend said his name. It continually amazed Dean how Castiel could pack so much emotion and meaning into just one syllable.
"What was I supposed to do?" Dean demanded defensively, hunching his shoulders. "If Raphael didn't stand a chance against you, then we sure as hell wouldn't and you'd only given us a week to change our minds! Besides, I didn't contact him, he came to me!"
"He did?"
"Yes! The whole reason that he got Sam's soul back was because he wanted us to keep digging into the whole soul thing. He's all about the natural order and keeping the universe balanced or whatever."
Castiel seemed to think about that for a moment. "But still, Dean, the change that I sense within you is formidable. It's affecting your very soul and I am unsure as to how."
Dean's fear was back now and between that and the way Castiel was watching him, so closely and so sincerely, it was all too much. "Damnit, Cas!" Dean exploded, pushing himself away and to his feet so that he could start pacing the ruined room. "What the hell was I supposed to do?"
"I- I don't know."
His friend's admission took the righteous wind right out of Dean's sails and he deflated on the spot, wincing as all of the violent movement suddenly caught up with and the pain emanating from his thighs and ass reached him. Not surprisingly, Castiel caught the expression and was before him in an instant.
"You're hurt," Castiel stated. "What happened?"
Involuntarily, Dean's eyes flickered to the wall he'd been throwing things at earlier and against which Death had... taken him. The memory of what had happened still made him swallow thickly, conflicting emotions rising up within him, especially at the thought that Death would be back and that it would all happen again. How he could feel both longing and terror at once was still something that he didn't understand, all he knew was that he did.
"Dean," Castiel breathed again, having followed the movement of his eyes and seen the bloody, ribboned wallpaper and shattered glass.
Before Dean could even think of explaining what had happened (seriously edited of course, he didn't need to scar Castiel, not after how his friend had reacted to Chastity), he was being spun around and bent over the arm of Bobby's couch. He'd hardly had time to squawk in protest before his angel had his jeans and boxers down around his ankles and was feeling up his frostbitten ass.
"Cas!" Dean protested loudly. "Dude, hands! Personal space!"
"Dean," Castiel said, voice laced with horror and concern, completely ignoring what he'd said.
Luckily the next thing his angel did was to heal the frostbite or whatever the hell it was and Dean couldn't suppress his sigh of relief at that. Which of course left him with a dilemma. Should he tell Castiel about the state of his cock and get it healed as well, or should he keep his mouth shut and keep the pain, and whatever shreds of his dignity were left intact?
"Are you injured anywhere else?" Castiel demanded.
"Uh."
Apparently Castiel knew him far too well to let him get away with it because the next thing Dean knew he was being turned around to face his friend. "Where?"
The urge to cover himself up with his hands- or even better his clothes- warred with the desire to just say the hell with his dignity and get the relief he now so suddenly needed. While before Dean had been surprised at how little his cock was bothering him, now he couldn't quite believe that he hadn't felt it as the pain was intense. Had his ass and thighs really been in such a deplorable state that he hadn't felt this? He must have inadvertently glanced down because the next thing he knew, Castiel was cupping him before heat flowed into him and the pain vanished as if it had never been. If only his angel were capable to making that happen.
"Thanks, Cas," Dean said sincerely, but when his friend's hand only moved as far as his hip- his naked hip- he dearly wished that he wasn't backed up against the couch and could step away.
"You let him touch you," Castiel stated, voice strangely flat.
Clearly his angel had been spending far too much time around Sammy at some point if Castiel really thought that they were actually going to talk about this. Because, seriously, no, just no.
"Apparently it was the only way," Dean said instead.
"Bullshit."
The profanity had Dean gaping, unable to believe that Castiel had just said that. "Uh, actually, I don't think there was any other way."
"There was no need for Death to get you involved in this. He should have done it himself."
"Ah, well, see, that's where things get tricky apparently."
"What do you mean?"
"It seems that Death and your Father have an agreement. God leaves the reapers alone and in exchange Death can't touch any of you guys."
"I- Father?"
"Yep."
Talk of God and Death inevitably brought back the memory of exactly what Death had said to him in Chicago. That one day Death would reap God Himself. The words had been enough to make Dean shudder back then and, if anything, their potency had only increased since. To think that he'd basically slept with the one being that could legitimately claim to hold power over God... It was all but incomprehensible and only served to increase his terror at the thought of what was yet to come.
"Dean?" Castiel questioned, stepping even closer.
To his dying day, Dean would never own up to the little noise that escaped him just then. But between the thought of Death's upcoming visit, the memory of what had happened during the horseman's last visit and how hideously wonderful it had been, Castiel's proximity and the inhuman heat of his angel, all combined with the fact that he was half naked was simply too much for him. Add to that the fact that Castiel's hand was on his hip and was hot enough that he could almost imagine that he'd have another handprint burned into his skin there just like the one on his shoulder. The thought was far hotter than it had any right to be and, combined with the thought of exactly where his angel's hand had been just moments before, it was all too much for him and he could feel himself begin to harden.
Dean was able to suppress the whimper that wanted to escape him, but he must have done something to give himself away as Castiel tilted his head slightly to one side as his friend used to do so often.
"Dean?" Castiel inquired, voice soft.
Between the fact that he could feel the angel's breath on his face and the arousal already surging through his system, Dean didn't dare respond for fear of what might come out of his mouth. He wanted to be able to step back in order to put some distance between them, but he didn't dare. Without his jeans and boxers even Castiel wouldn't be able to misinterpret exactly where his thoughts had gone. Damn the angel for getting him into this mess. This was all Castiel's fault! If his friend had only just listened to him then they wouldn't be here right now. And neither would he have realized his own feelings for the stupid feather brained bastard either, something which would probably have been for the better as he couldn't exactly see that ending well for him. Not at all.
"Dean," Castiel repeated more firmly and with a hint of reproach in his voice. "What is wrong? Why are you-"
From both the way that his friend broke off and the way that Castiel's eyes widened in shock, Dean knew that at least one of his secrets had been discovered. Which one he didn't know, but he doubted that it really mattered as neither of them was exactly appropriate or acceptable.
No, they were, the both of them, likely to get him a one way ticket straight back to Hell. And if that didn't just fig-
Dean's thoughts were abruptly derailed as he was pulled close for a breath stealing kiss. It was so unexpected, so unbelievable, that it took him a moment to catch up with what was happening and to respond.
Castiel was kissing him!
Then Dean was pulled close and instinct took over. The friction on his cock from his friend's cheap suit was sublime and he reacted before he realized that he was humping an angel. By the time the impropriety of it had sunk in, it was too late. Apparently his eagerness had been all that Castiel had needed to get with the program as the next thing that he knew, his ass had been lifted and parked on the arm of the couch he'd been bent over earlier. The sudden aggressiveness of his angel was as unexpected as it was welcome and his only problem with the current situation was the inequality in their respective states of nudity.
"Cas," Dean moaned when he finally pulled back for air.
His next words were lost in another moan as Castiel quite literally started attacking his neck, kissing and biting his way down it. God, but where had his virgin angel learned how to do this? The thought distracted him for a moment but then Castiel bit down hard enough to nearly break the skin right at the base of his throat and it was gone in light of the realization that he'd have a hickey. An angelic hickey.
"Clothes," Dean ordered, tugging at Castiel's ever present trench coat.
Instead of replying, his angel just got right down to it, vanishing their clothing. The skin on skin contact was electric and Dean arched into it, savoring Castiel's heat. After everything that had happened so far today, it was exactly what he needed. As his friend was still feasting on his neck, creating the largest hickeys ever no doubt, he took the opportunity to just touch. Even before his realization earlier today, he'd wondered what it would be like to just be able to touch Castiel and now that he could, he was definitely going to indulge himself.
Although not as built as himself or Sam, especially these days, Castiel was by no means slight and Dean couldn't wait to be able to actually just look at his lover. His explorations inevitably trailed lower and lower until he came to the prize attraction. After just one teasing touch, Castiel growled and bodily lifted him from the arm of the couch, making him yelp in surprise. His angel laughed and he scowled, though it was quickly wiped from his face as he wound his legs around Castiel's waist and brought their cocks into direct contact for the first time.
"Dean," Castiel moaned, claiming his mouth.
His answering moan was swallowed by his new lover, but Dean didn't mind in the least. Experimentally he rolled his hips and the resulting friction made him glad that he wasn't standing as he was sure that his knees would have given away. Between that, the heat and the all but electric sensation of touching his lover it was all simply far too much. It did, however, make him keenly aware of his currently position, especially when Castiel started walking.
"Dude, I'm not a chick!" Dean complained.
"No, you're mine," Castiel replied, nipping at his lips.
Then Dean was being lowered onto the couch itself and any further protests died in his throat as his lover pulled back and he was able to get the good look of Castiel that he'd desired earlier. He definitely liked what he saw and knew that many would never have guessed that this was what lay hidden beneath his angel's perpetual trench coat, not that he was complaining about this general lack of knowledge, because wow.
The look of hunger and lust on Castiel's face killed any protests that Dean had at being treated like a chick and instead he shifted in a way so as to draw his lover's attention exactly where he wanted it. Then he raised his eyebrows and forced a sultry note into his voice. "You just going to stand there and stare or are you actually going to follow through?"
Castiel's eyes narrowed and with another growl his angel stepped forward and lowered himself onto him. Dean moaned his approval and bucked up against his lover for more friction. He shifted a little to try and turn them without sending them both onto the floor, but it was like trying to move a large boulder.
"Mine," Castiel declared, nipping along his jaw even as his angel's hands swept possessively over his body. "Mine, not Death's."
Holy shit! Dean would never have thought it, but the way his lover was acting was turning him on like nothing ever had before and it scared him a little, not that he'd let that stop him. Not when he had a naked and willing Castiel on top of him and their every touch was sending him closer and closer to the edge. As it was he could already feel the tingling at the base of his spine and they'd hardly even done anything! He was pretty sure where this was heading and his thoughts were confirmed when Castiel reached down and pushed his thighs apart so that his angel could settle comfortably between them.
It had been a long time since Dean had bottomed for anyone so to do it twice in one day was very odd, but if that was what Castiel wanted right now then he wasn't going to complain. Not with how wonderful it all felt so far already and this new kink which he'd only just discovered. Who'd have thought that after everything which had happened in Hell that he'd have a kink for being manhandled and dominated? It could only be that for the first time in his life he truly and completely trusted his partner, and that despite all of the God and Purgatory souls stuff.
"Cas," Dean moaned when a slick finger circled his entrance and then slipped inside.
He didn't know where the lube came from, but Dean wasn't going to take the time to ask either. Not when they had far better things to do.
"Dean," Castiel replied, voice completely wrecked.
One look at his lover was all that Dean needed to see how far gone Castiel was. The angel's eyes were blown wide with only a small rim of blue still visible. Best of all, though, was the fact that those eyes were completely focused on him. It was the most intense of all his lover's penetrating gazes and instead of making him feel uncomfortable or self-conscious, it exhilarated him. To know that Castiel still wanted him so much despite knowing about all that he'd done was all that he needed to know. Besides, he'd never been ashamed of his body and now used all that he knew about how turn on his partners to turn his angel on even more.
His tactic worked and Castiel blanked his body once more and Dean moaned as his lover angled his head to kiss him, deep and dirty. The moment that he was ready, Castiel pulled his fingers free and positioned himself at his entrance, pushing in right away.
"Cas!" Dean cried out, throwing his head back.
His angel's hands tightened on his hips to the point that Dean wondered whether he'd have two new handprints there only in bruises this time, but he found that he didn't care. Actually no, that wasn't entirely true, he did care, just not in the way that he'd always have thought that he would. The simple truth was that the idea of bearing Castiel's marks, all of them, was turning him on and he whined when his lover's fingers clamped down around the base of his cock.
"Not yet," Castiel stated simply. "Not until I'm fucking you."
Dean mewled at the words, one hand clawing at the couch while the other reached out to grasp hold of his lover's shoulder. "Fuck, Cas, please!"
After a few careful thrusts to get him used to it, Castiel began to thrust harder and Dean's right arm shot up to brace himself against the arm of the couch as he started to slide across it with the force of his lover's thrusts.
"Dean," Castiel breathed. "Mine."
With his free arm, Dean tugged his lover down so he could kiss him once more. The shift in position allowed him to wrap one leg around Castiel's waist while the other tangled with his angel's. His cock became trapped between them, though the friction of their moving bodies was wonderful and he doubted that he'd need any more to come. Or he wouldn't when Castiel released the apparent Grace lock his angel now had on it.
"Mine," Castiel growled again when he pulled back so Dean could breathe. "Mine, and no one else's."
With that his lover latched onto his neck once more and Dean could do nothing but hang on as he was fucked like never before. He didn't know where his angel had learned to do it, but with just a slight shift of his hips, Castiel was nailing his prostate every time.
"Mine."
The continued possessive declarations were doing wonders for Dean and if anything he wanted more. More of them and more of it all and he knew exactly how to get it.
"Yours, yours except-" Dean broke off and mewled when Castiel growled and he felt teeth sink into his shoulder near his scar.
"No, no exceptions."
Castiel's face was right above his own just now, one hand at Dean's hip and the other clamped at the back of his neck. The strange desire to bare his throat rose within him but he repressed it, determined to see if he could get more, harder, faster.
"Death... he said... again."
Dean keened as his lover gave him exactly what he'd wanted, thrusting into him so hard that he knew he'd be feeling it for a week. His fingers dug into Castiel's back, knowing he couldn't hurt his angel even if he'd wanted to. There was an almost electrical charge between them and along with the heat and friction on his cock and the feel of Castiel deep within him it really was too much for him.
"Cas! Cas, Cas, shit, fuck, please!" Dean begged shamelessly. "G- Please, Cas!"
"Now," Castiel whispered into his ear, releasing his Grace lock.
The sudden loss of inhibition along with his lover's command was all Dean needed and he came with a cry, his vision edging white as he did. This orgasm was just as intense as the one he'd had earlier with Death and once more he lost awareness for a while. He couldn't know if it was for as long as the last time, but when he came around this time it was to find Castiel still moving on top of and inside him. He moaned at the feel of his lover and clenched down instinctively, making his angel breathe his name like it was a prayer.
"Come on, Cas, come on," Dean encouraged, pulling his lover down and returning the favor of feasting on his neck. "Just let go."
"Dean," Castiel moaned, voice even more wrecked than Dean had ever heard it before.
When Dean clenched down around his angel once more, Castiel thrust hard into him once, twice and then his lover was coming, cock pulsing deep inside of him. Since he'd already come himself, he was able to savor the sensation as he milked the last of Castiel's release from him before his lover went lax above him. He'd never admit it to anyone, but the feel of Castiel above him, still inhumanly warm and heavier that any blanket, was as close to perfect as he ever thought that he'd get. Especially when his lover began nuzzling his mauled neck, tongue licking soothingly at the hickies that Castiel had made.
A.N.: Well there you go, the promised sequel to Little Deaths, I hope you like it. There will be one more fic in the series at some point dealing with Death's return visit, but I'm not quire sure when that will be as one of my BB ideas is begging to be started. The series masterpost will be updated when I have a better idea of when the third fic will be ready.
For more on the title of this fic and the others in the series, please see the Purgatory Trilogy masterpost.
Title: At Death's Door
Pairings: Dean/Cas, mentioned Dean/Death
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: up to 6.22
Warnings: AU, slash, bottom!Dean, top!Cas, bare backing
Word Count: 8,394
Note: This fic is the second in the Purgatory Trilogy and it won't make sense if you haven't read Little Deaths first. It was written for the Castiel entry on the July 2011 community bingo card over at the dean_slash comm, though that was closed long ago.
Summary: "You on your knees swearing your allegiance and love to him will be enough to blind him to all else."
Little Deaths
Dean's first impulse after Death had left was to pace back and forth but he quickly found that his ass hurt far too much for that.
And, no, Dean wasn't going to think too closely on why it did. Simply the mere memory of doing that with Death was enough to make him whimper as the maelstrom of confusing and conflicting emotions rose within him once more. Just the thought of how amazing it had felt to experience that final disconnect from the body for such an extended period of time instead of the fleeting euphoria it had always been before during his actual deaths was enough to make him moan. Those ephemeral seconds had always been the best thing that he'd ever experienced even if they were so fleeting and hard to remember when he was resurrected, so to feel them over an extended period of time while also having mind-blowing sex at the same time? It was simply indescribable and almost more than he could handle.
At the same time as his mind spiraled higher and higher on the sheer pleasure of the memory, Dean could feel his body reacting in fear, experiencing what would in any other circumstances be mind-numbing terror. To that part of him the mere thought of what had just transpired was nothing short of horrifying and he wanted nothing more than to run away from the reality of it and curl up somewhere safe and never think of it again, much less know that he had to experience it again if he was to get rid of whatever Death had done to him so that he could rescue Castiel from the souls of Purgatory.
From the power transference that Death had given him.
The thought made Dean shudder. Overall, logically, he knew that he should be running screaming for the hills just about now like any sane person would do. Well, any sane person who had somehow managed to get himself into the situation he just had, not that they could be very sane given that prerequisite, but the sentiment held all the same. So the fact that a part of him- the fact that any part of him- didn't feel that way was almost inconceivable to him right up to the moment where he allowed himself to think about what it felt like to have Death touching him.
Trust him to be a junkie for the sensation of death itself. No wonder he had allowed Death to do what he had to him. On some level Dean knew he'd been lost the moment the horseman had first touched him and he'd survived the experience; he'd been hooked from that first moment of euphoria. Before that he'd always struggled to remember the final moments of each time that he'd died but Death's touch had blown those doors wide open and allowed the memories to come flooding back in. That final disconnect with the body and whole floating white light thing had captivated him as easily today as it had each time that he'd actually died and it was as alluring to him as the proverbial flame was to the poor doomed moth that flew right into it, chasing some unknown high.
Dean had found that he couldn't not reach out for it, not with it being right there in front of him. Add to that the fact that Death had offered him the opportunity to save Castiel and everyone who was in danger from the new smite happy god the angel had become and he'd been a goner. Hook, line and sink 'em. His laugh had a desperate edge to it that he tried to ignore. He'd always been willing to risk himself for those he cared about, nor had he ever had much willpower when it came to resisting sex, so with the two combined it was pretty much a certainty that he'd be on board with Death's insane little plan. He couldn't help but wonder if that made him easy in the horseman's eyes?
The thought made Dean uncomfortable, still completely unable to believe that he'd actually, voluntarily, had sex with Death, much less bottomed for the horseman. Just how the hell had he gotten himself into this situation in the first place? Unfortunately that only brought up other memories that he didn't want to think about and he desperately wished that he hadn't thrown his bottle of Jack against the wall as he could really, really, really use a drink right about now. He snorted, who was he trying to kid? He could really use the whole freaking bottle right about now.
Just as it had before, simply the thought of what had happened to Castiel was enough to make Dean feel ill and he closed his eyes as he recalled the way his friend had sounded, standing before them and demanding that they bow down and profess their love unto him or be destroyed. It had broken something inside of him to hear his angel say that to them and each time he thought of it, it only aggravated the wound so that he now felt raw and open, slowly bleeding to death. It would almost have been a blessing in a way, the moment where the creature (his mind shied away from actually calling it Castiel) had finally killed them, as then he wouldn't have had to live with what had happened anymore.
But not now. Not anymore.
Dean raised his head and squared his shoulders. While he didn't want to think any more than he had to on exactly what he'd had to do in order to obtain it, the fact remained that now he had a means of doing something about the situation. Of saving his friend. All that he had to do was dig up the courage to put Death's plan into action. He'd agreed to it very readily when the horseman had offered it to him as he'd known precisely how dire their situation was here, but now he found that he had some serious questions about the plan. Death had made it all sound so simple when the horseman had told him what to do. Kiss Castiel, that was all, and the power transference would take care of the rest, no biggie. Right?
Wrong.
How the hell was he even supposed to get close enough to the creature in order to be able to kiss Castiel?
"You on your knees swearing your allegiance and love to him will be enough to blind him to all else."
The echo of Death's words, even if only in his head, was enough to make Dean swallow thickly. Earlier he'd realized that it would be the only way to make this plan work and he hadn't thought of anything better since then, but still he hesitated. They were talking about an extremely powerful being here after all. Castiel as he was now could have anything- anyone- why would he care about one pathetic, broken human? Especially one who'd treated him so abysmally in the past few months? Besides, the angel had made his own thoughts as far as he was concerned more than clear lately as well. So to say that he had doubts that this plan of Death's would work was an understatement to say the least. But it was something and he had absolutely nothing else.
With that cheerful thought, Dean steeled himself for what he had to do. At worst he'd get 'destroyed' ahead of schedule while the potential rewards if things went well were almost unthinkable. His friend back, safe and sound, Castiel once more instead of some power hungry and hyped up on Purgatory souls wannabe god- now that was more than worth any risk that he might have to take in order to achieve it. And besides, if he didn't hurry up and get his ass in gear, then Sam and Bobby would get back and he'd be risking their lives in more way that one. He shuddered as he recalled the warning that Death had given him.
Throughout this whole ordeal Dean had been very careful to not think too hard about just what it was that Death had actually done to him, or rather what this power transference had done to him, and he had absolutely no desire to find out firsthand what would happen if he touched anyone other than Castiel. He felt different now and had since he'd first recovered on the floor after it. He was cold, oh so very, very cold, the chill extending all the way down inside him, so far that it made the term bone deep sound pathetically shallow. Even worse, the cold seemed to be alive somehow, wrapping his very essence up in its cloying embrace to the point where he was sure that he'd never feel warm again. It reminded him horribly of what Death himself had felt like; kissing, touching and...
Yeah, that.
On some level it was kinda like wearing Death's ring all over again, but in other ways that Dean couldn't describe it felt different somehow. Worse and far more potent, which made sense in a way if he considered that this wasn't like wearing a ring that merely belonged to the strongest of the four horsemen, but was rather a part of Death himself. And no, he totally wasn't thinking about that anymore, not even considering what he'd already done with the horseman in question. There were some things even his mind simply couldn't cope with.
Instead Dean stepped into the middle of the room and considered the best way to do this. Death had definitely been right about the whole kneeling thing, but how? Should he go down on one knee, or both? Although it grated his ego, he knew that it was probably best to go down onto both knees as it was far more submissive and that seemed to be what the creature was after now. Slowly, he lowered himself into position, hissing as it stretched the skin of his ass and thighs. It definitely felt like frostbite back there, not that his cock was doing much better, having been encased in what felt like ice rather than a hand.
Dean shoved those thoughts aside and instead placed his hands on his legs and lowered his head. Well, here went nothing.
"Cas? Uh, my Lord, I mean. I... uh," Dean began and cursed himself mentally. "Look, can I, please, talk to you? I... I'm ready."
"Ready for what?"
The words were cold and came from directly behind him. It was all that Dean could do not to jump in surprise despite his position. Twisting, he looked behind him to see that yes, Castiel stood there in all of his newfound godly glory. Quickly he dropped his eyes again submissively and bowed his head. The former angel made a little noise at that which sounded somewhat startled to him but he didn't look up even when Castiel started to walk around him.
"My Lord," Dean repeated, desperately hoping that Death was right and that the former angel wouldn't be able to sense the change within him.
"Where are the others?" Castiel demanded from beside him.
"Out, they don't know that I'm doing this." Any of it.
"I see."
There was a touch to his shoulder and Dean was surprised at the heat of it. Castiel had always run inhumanly hot but now he was like a veritable furnace and it was a shock to his system after the icy cold of Death. At the cold that he still felt all inside of him, right down to his very soul he now feared. The fingers trailed over his shoulder to the back of his neck and the exposed skin there where they lingered, causing him to tremble lightly at the mere thought of all the power the former angel now possessed. The power he could even now feel crackling in the air all around him and sparking along his skin where Castiel touched him.
Dean lowered his head even more in response to it and the hand came to rest in his hair.
"Ready for what?" Castiel repeated softly. "Ready to profess your love unto me?"
"Yes," Dean replied, raising his head slightly and the hand slid down the side of his head to cup his face as he looked up. "I love you."
It was with a shock that Dean realized that it was true, he meant those words with every fiber of his being. The sheer shock of what had happened and the very real fear that he'd lost Castiel to something far worse than death had forced him to confront just how much his friend had come to mean to him and that knowledge now crystalized into something new and far more potent then he'd ever realized. But as he knelt there, having allowed Death to alter him in some unknown but fundamental way, there was no more escaping the fact and it shook him to his very core, making him tremble slightly at the knowledge of just how much hung in the balance here. Not only for the rest of the world, but for him as well. He didn't think that he could survive losing something so important to him again, not after everything that had already happened to him.
He needed Castiel, the real Castiel, back.
Even from his submissive and vulnerable position on the floor, Dean could see the way Castiel's eyes flared at his declaration and he could only hope that his feelings were returned. It was highly unlikely after everything that had happened between them this past year and all that his angel had said shortly before opening the doorway to Purgatory, but that wouldn't stop him. After all, it wouldn't be the first time that he risked himself for people who didn't care nearly as much about him as he did for them.
"Please, my Lord, allow me to prove my sincerity and devotion," Dean requested, lowering his eyes submissively, respectfully.
The words tasted like ash in his mouth, but Dean forced them to come out evenly. Though he'd never beg for his own life or skin, he was more than ready to do it for others if he had any indication that it might work and given what Castiel had said before about being a better God there was definitely an indication thereof. Besides, his power and soul high friend had made his desire for what he wanted as far as he and the others were concerned more than clear.
"You will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord."
Once again Castiel made a small noise that Dean was unable to identify before the hand on his face tightened and the air all around him crackled, causing the hairs on his arms to rise on end. He made an involuntary sound of his own as the unimaginable power washed over him. His eyes closed as he tried to cope with it, his whole body trembling under the onslaught. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it ended and his friend released his face.
"You may," Castiel stated and it took Dean a moment to unscramble his thoughts enough to recall what he'd requested.
This was it then, then moment of truth. So far so good, but Dean was by no means a believer in happy endings and wouldn't be convinced of a good outcome here until it actually happened. Slowly, carefully, he rose to his feet, keeping his head respectfully lowered until he was ready, not only to help further the ruse but also because he was afraid that his eyes would give him away otherwise. Castiel had spent far too much time looking him in the eye in the past not to be able to sense that something was going on here if he gave his friend the chance to study him like that for more than a moment.
With a last deep breath to steel himself, Dean raised his head to look the self-proclaimed God in the eyes before he slowly leaned down to kiss him. There was another flare of something in Castiel's eyes and then the furnace hot hand was back on his face accompanied by its twin, pulling him close. The moment their lips touched all coherent thought fled. Kissing Castiel was like kissing a lightning bolt or a live wire. It was all heat and power and electricity and he couldn't have stopped even if his life depended on it.
Dean moaned, vaguely aware of his hands clutching at Castiel, as heat flooded into him and he felt like he was burning alive. The feeling from before, from his last kiss with Death, was back. The feeling that he was literally sucking something into himself without meaning to, only now instead of an intense cold, it was an intense all-encompassing heat. It filled him like the cold had, consuming everything that he was and burning brighter than he'd ever known any fire to, brighter even then the angels he'd seen go supernova when they'd died.
It was just as Castiel started to struggle against him that Dean finally realized what was happening.
He was literally sucking the Purgatory souls out of his friend and into himself.
The thought terrified Dean but he couldn't stop. Hell, even Castiel with all of his newfound powers seemed totally incapable of stopping him. For all that his friend was now struggling in his grip, fighting to break free, Castiel wasn't succeeding. Somehow his grasp, which should have been nothing to an angel, let alone a being powerful enough to proclaim itself God, was more than enough to keep Castiel right where he was, their lips pressed together in a parody of a lover's embrace as he stole the lost souls from his fallen friend. He could feel them as they entered him, chasing out the icy cold faster than he'd ever have thought possible and replacing it with an ever increasing heat that made him wonder if he'd go from freezing to death to burning alive.
He wasn't entirely sure which would be better.
The thought made the urge to laugh rise within Dean even as it frightened him and it was like opening the door to fear and more just came flooding in. As he pulled more and more souls from his friend, he could begin to feel them affecting him as they had the angel. A sense of power and self-righteousness was rising within him, not yet powerful enough to take over and seem like it was his right to do whatever he wanted, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before it did take over and that absolutely terrified him. If these souls had managed to corrupt Castiel, the best angel that he'd ever known, then what chance in Hell did he stand of not succumbing to them as well? Had this been Death's plan all along? To transfer the souls from someone that he couldn't touch due to his agreement with God to someone that he could kill? He definitely wouldn't put it past the horseman.
Despite his growing suspicions, Dean found that he wouldn't stop what he was doing even if he could. Castiel didn't deserve what had happened to him even if his friend had brought it upon himself. The angel had sincerely been doing what he thought best and it wasn't really Castiel's fault that he didn't have enough experience with free will yet to know how badly things could turn out despite starting out with the best of intentions. The road to Hell and all of that, which was highly ironic given that Castiel had already been to Hell and that the experience hadn't managed to taint his friend in the slightest.
More souls flooded into Dean and his thoughts turned darker. While it was true that Castiel hadn't known any better, he had and he'd told his friend as much, but had Castiel listened to him? No, of course not. It wasn't like he'd proved himself to the angel over and over and over again since they'd first met each other or anything. So, really, why should Castiel have listened to him, right?
Anger and indignation rose within Dean the more he thought about it. He'd always done his best to help Castiel so really he hadn't deserved to be treated the way that his friend had treated him. Just the mere thought of being shoved into that alternate dimension or into an alternate timeline were enough to enrage him. He'd have thought that Castiel would have learned better than to be so arrogant after the whole Apocalypse fiasco. Sam and himself had proven that they could face archangels before and without Castiel's help too! So how dare the little angel think that he had any right to decide whether or not he got involved when things were going bad once more? It was his right, damnit, he was the Righteous Man after all, the one whose coming had been prophesized in Bible itself.
It wasn't his place to bow down to anyone. They should all be bowing to him!
When he was sure that he had the last of the lost souls, Dean released Castiel and pulled back enough to look the traitor in the face. His fury grew hotter and brighter as he thought of Castiel's earlier threats. How dare the little angel even think about destroying him? Him who'd done so much for Castiel, having shown him the way to freedom from Michael and Zachariah's slavery and helped him get rid of his shackles. Him who'd been chosen by God Himself!
"Dean, no," Castiel whispered, anguish in every word.
"No?" Dean repeated, snarling. "No, what? Not happy that I'm the powerful one now and you're back to your old pathetic weak self?"
"Dean-"
"Kneel," Dean ordered, using his new powers to force the angel down. "Now it's time for you to profess your love unto me, your new Lord."
When Castiel moved to lower his head, Dean snarled and grabbed a fistful of hair to force the angel's head back. No way was he going to let Castiel try and lie to him like he had to the angel before. It wasn't until he looked right into Castiel's eyes and saw his own reflection cast back at him that he realized that his eyes and mouth were glowing just like Claire and Jimmy's had when Castiel had moved from one to the other in that abandoned warehouse. The visible display of power pleased him until he started to feel the souls beginning to stir inside of him. Whereas before they'd been shoved together within him, now they were moving and... swirling.
Swirling like water going down a drain.
"No!" Dean screamed, stumbling back and clutching at his head.
"Dean?" Castiel demanded, rising to his feet.
He was losing the souls, Dean realized with horror. They were doing the equivalent of swirling water down the drain only he didn't quite know what the drain was or where they were going, just that he was losing them. Furious he tried to grab hold of them, to prevent them from escaping, but they slipped through his fingers like ephemeral ghosts and he screamed in fury, catching sight of Castiel moving closer to him as he did so.
"No! Stay back!" Dean cried out, flinging a hand out and sending the angel crashing straight through the far wall and into the kitchen.
Castiel would not take the souls back from him, he wouldn't! The more that Dean tried to stop the souls from going, the faster they seemed to vanish and he was so focused on that it took him a while to realize that the center of the vortex was the one part of him that had remained ice cold throughout, somehow resisting even the furnace of the souls. Death. That thrice damned horseman was behind this! Death had planned this all along, it had never been the horseman's intention to allow him to keep the souls. He'd bet anything that Death was even now stealing them for himself, as if Death didn't have enough power to begin with! Maybe that was how the horseman believed that he'd be able to reap God Himself, because he was slowly amassing soul power for himself from every living creature that he killed!
Dean was starting to grow cold once more, the heat of the souls vanishing with the souls themselves and the chill was back at the edges of his awareness, slowly creeping back in as his power drained away from him. It wasn't fair, he'd earned that power! It was his due after all of the years of struggling and hunting that he'd done and all of the crap that he'd put up with, especially from the angels. It was his right as the chosen of God, the one-
Horror swept in as Dean became aware of his own thoughts. How could he even think that? It was wrong on so many levels that he didn't even know where to begin. As his mind cleared a little more and he was able to make sense of what had happened, he felt even worse and his knees buckled beneath him. He'd allowed the power of the Purgatory souls to consume him just as it had Castiel when his friend had taken them into himself. Oh God, Castiel!
"Cas?" Dean croaked out, looking towards the new hole in the wall. "Cas?"
"Dean."
The voice right next to him made Dean jump, but then he turned and grabbed him friend, pulling Castiel close into a rare huge. He clutched at his friend for a moment, silently thankful that the angel was alive and back with him before he pulled back. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"
"I am fine, Dean."
"You sure? I threw you through a wall!"
"Yes, but you didn't prevent me from healing myself."
"Oh," Dean replied before the memory of sending his friend flying into, and through, the wall flashed before his eyes once more and he felt sick. "Shit, dude, I'm sorry, I don't know wha-"
Castiel's hand came up to cover his mouth and Dean absently noted that it was now just the warmer than normal heat of the angel instead of the furnace heat from before. "Dean, you have nothing to apologize for, not after all that I did and especially not since you were only trying to save me."
"But I-"
"Was overwhelmed by the sheer power and malevolence of the souls, just like I was. Neither of us stood a chance against that, not with the sheer number of them that there were. Those who go to Purgatory are by definition not clean and pure souls. The human ones among them may not be entirely lost, but the supernatural ones most definitely are and we are talking countless millennia worth of creatures. There was never a chance and it was only my sheer arrogance that allowed me to believe otherwise beforehand and for that I can never even begin to apologize to you and everyone else enough for."
"You were only trying to help and keep Raphael from freeing Michael and Lucifer."
"But you knew that it wouldn't end well and I should have listened to your repeated warnings."
That was the truth and Dean didn't have anything to say to it. Although he knew that there was much that he could have done better throughout the last year, in the end Castiel had ignored all of his warnings and gone ahead and done what he'd wanted to. Thinking about what his friend had been like made Dean shiver and once he started he couldn't really stop, the icy coldness back inside of him enough to have drained away all of the remaining heat that he'd had left from the souls.
"Dean?" Castiel questioned, frowning.
"Cold," Dean complained.
With just a moment's hesitation, Castiel reached out and pulled him close. Dean stiffened at first, but as his friend's inhuman heat started to soak into him, he relaxed and clung to his angel. He closed his eyes and tried to banish the memories of the past few days from his mind and just bask in the closeness between them now. His mind, however, simply refused to shut down entirely, instead choosing to focus on his recent revelation and what it meant for the future. Was there any chance that Castiel returned his feelings? And even if he did, would his angel want to act on those emotions or was that forbidden? Then there was also the fact that, now with Raphael being dead, Castiel probably had a lot to do in Heaven so there was a good chance that his friend would just fly off and not return, much as he had right after they'd defeated Lucifer and Michael. After all, why would now be any different when Heaven needed Castiel?
It wasn't like he could even hope to compete with Heaven.
"Dean, what did you do?" Castiel finally asked and Dean could hear an undercurrent of fear in his friend's tone. "How were you able to do what you did and where did those souls go?"
"Back to Purgatory, I think."
"You think?"
Dean shrugged. "I'm not actually sure. We could ask Death when he comes back, but he seemed pretty interested in just getting rid of them and restoring the natural order of things to what they're supposed to be, which was disrupted when you opened the door to Purgatory and took the souls."
Castiel flinched against him but didn't protest his words, choosing to focus on something else entirely as Dean was pulled back so that his friend could look at his face.
"Death? You allowed Death to do something to you? To change you so fundamentally?"
Ah, so it seemed like Castiel had finally noticed just how different he was right now. "Uh, I-"
"Dean."
He nearly flinched at the way his friend said his name. It continually amazed Dean how Castiel could pack so much emotion and meaning into just one syllable.
"What was I supposed to do?" Dean demanded defensively, hunching his shoulders. "If Raphael didn't stand a chance against you, then we sure as hell wouldn't and you'd only given us a week to change our minds! Besides, I didn't contact him, he came to me!"
"He did?"
"Yes! The whole reason that he got Sam's soul back was because he wanted us to keep digging into the whole soul thing. He's all about the natural order and keeping the universe balanced or whatever."
Castiel seemed to think about that for a moment. "But still, Dean, the change that I sense within you is formidable. It's affecting your very soul and I am unsure as to how."
Dean's fear was back now and between that and the way Castiel was watching him, so closely and so sincerely, it was all too much. "Damnit, Cas!" Dean exploded, pushing himself away and to his feet so that he could start pacing the ruined room. "What the hell was I supposed to do?"
"I- I don't know."
His friend's admission took the righteous wind right out of Dean's sails and he deflated on the spot, wincing as all of the violent movement suddenly caught up with and the pain emanating from his thighs and ass reached him. Not surprisingly, Castiel caught the expression and was before him in an instant.
"You're hurt," Castiel stated. "What happened?"
Involuntarily, Dean's eyes flickered to the wall he'd been throwing things at earlier and against which Death had... taken him. The memory of what had happened still made him swallow thickly, conflicting emotions rising up within him, especially at the thought that Death would be back and that it would all happen again. How he could feel both longing and terror at once was still something that he didn't understand, all he knew was that he did.
"Dean," Castiel breathed again, having followed the movement of his eyes and seen the bloody, ribboned wallpaper and shattered glass.
Before Dean could even think of explaining what had happened (seriously edited of course, he didn't need to scar Castiel, not after how his friend had reacted to Chastity), he was being spun around and bent over the arm of Bobby's couch. He'd hardly had time to squawk in protest before his angel had his jeans and boxers down around his ankles and was feeling up his frostbitten ass.
"Cas!" Dean protested loudly. "Dude, hands! Personal space!"
"Dean," Castiel said, voice laced with horror and concern, completely ignoring what he'd said.
Luckily the next thing his angel did was to heal the frostbite or whatever the hell it was and Dean couldn't suppress his sigh of relief at that. Which of course left him with a dilemma. Should he tell Castiel about the state of his cock and get it healed as well, or should he keep his mouth shut and keep the pain, and whatever shreds of his dignity were left intact?
"Are you injured anywhere else?" Castiel demanded.
"Uh."
Apparently Castiel knew him far too well to let him get away with it because the next thing Dean knew he was being turned around to face his friend. "Where?"
The urge to cover himself up with his hands- or even better his clothes- warred with the desire to just say the hell with his dignity and get the relief he now so suddenly needed. While before Dean had been surprised at how little his cock was bothering him, now he couldn't quite believe that he hadn't felt it as the pain was intense. Had his ass and thighs really been in such a deplorable state that he hadn't felt this? He must have inadvertently glanced down because the next thing he knew, Castiel was cupping him before heat flowed into him and the pain vanished as if it had never been. If only his angel were capable to making that happen.
"Thanks, Cas," Dean said sincerely, but when his friend's hand only moved as far as his hip- his naked hip- he dearly wished that he wasn't backed up against the couch and could step away.
"You let him touch you," Castiel stated, voice strangely flat.
Clearly his angel had been spending far too much time around Sammy at some point if Castiel really thought that they were actually going to talk about this. Because, seriously, no, just no.
"Apparently it was the only way," Dean said instead.
"Bullshit."
The profanity had Dean gaping, unable to believe that Castiel had just said that. "Uh, actually, I don't think there was any other way."
"There was no need for Death to get you involved in this. He should have done it himself."
"Ah, well, see, that's where things get tricky apparently."
"What do you mean?"
"It seems that Death and your Father have an agreement. God leaves the reapers alone and in exchange Death can't touch any of you guys."
"I- Father?"
"Yep."
Talk of God and Death inevitably brought back the memory of exactly what Death had said to him in Chicago. That one day Death would reap God Himself. The words had been enough to make Dean shudder back then and, if anything, their potency had only increased since. To think that he'd basically slept with the one being that could legitimately claim to hold power over God... It was all but incomprehensible and only served to increase his terror at the thought of what was yet to come.
"Dean?" Castiel questioned, stepping even closer.
To his dying day, Dean would never own up to the little noise that escaped him just then. But between the thought of Death's upcoming visit, the memory of what had happened during the horseman's last visit and how hideously wonderful it had been, Castiel's proximity and the inhuman heat of his angel, all combined with the fact that he was half naked was simply too much for him. Add to that the fact that Castiel's hand was on his hip and was hot enough that he could almost imagine that he'd have another handprint burned into his skin there just like the one on his shoulder. The thought was far hotter than it had any right to be and, combined with the thought of exactly where his angel's hand had been just moments before, it was all too much for him and he could feel himself begin to harden.
Dean was able to suppress the whimper that wanted to escape him, but he must have done something to give himself away as Castiel tilted his head slightly to one side as his friend used to do so often.
"Dean?" Castiel inquired, voice soft.
Between the fact that he could feel the angel's breath on his face and the arousal already surging through his system, Dean didn't dare respond for fear of what might come out of his mouth. He wanted to be able to step back in order to put some distance between them, but he didn't dare. Without his jeans and boxers even Castiel wouldn't be able to misinterpret exactly where his thoughts had gone. Damn the angel for getting him into this mess. This was all Castiel's fault! If his friend had only just listened to him then they wouldn't be here right now. And neither would he have realized his own feelings for the stupid feather brained bastard either, something which would probably have been for the better as he couldn't exactly see that ending well for him. Not at all.
"Dean," Castiel repeated more firmly and with a hint of reproach in his voice. "What is wrong? Why are you-"
From both the way that his friend broke off and the way that Castiel's eyes widened in shock, Dean knew that at least one of his secrets had been discovered. Which one he didn't know, but he doubted that it really mattered as neither of them was exactly appropriate or acceptable.
No, they were, the both of them, likely to get him a one way ticket straight back to Hell. And if that didn't just fig-
Dean's thoughts were abruptly derailed as he was pulled close for a breath stealing kiss. It was so unexpected, so unbelievable, that it took him a moment to catch up with what was happening and to respond.
Castiel was kissing him!
Then Dean was pulled close and instinct took over. The friction on his cock from his friend's cheap suit was sublime and he reacted before he realized that he was humping an angel. By the time the impropriety of it had sunk in, it was too late. Apparently his eagerness had been all that Castiel had needed to get with the program as the next thing that he knew, his ass had been lifted and parked on the arm of the couch he'd been bent over earlier. The sudden aggressiveness of his angel was as unexpected as it was welcome and his only problem with the current situation was the inequality in their respective states of nudity.
"Cas," Dean moaned when he finally pulled back for air.
His next words were lost in another moan as Castiel quite literally started attacking his neck, kissing and biting his way down it. God, but where had his virgin angel learned how to do this? The thought distracted him for a moment but then Castiel bit down hard enough to nearly break the skin right at the base of his throat and it was gone in light of the realization that he'd have a hickey. An angelic hickey.
"Clothes," Dean ordered, tugging at Castiel's ever present trench coat.
Instead of replying, his angel just got right down to it, vanishing their clothing. The skin on skin contact was electric and Dean arched into it, savoring Castiel's heat. After everything that had happened so far today, it was exactly what he needed. As his friend was still feasting on his neck, creating the largest hickeys ever no doubt, he took the opportunity to just touch. Even before his realization earlier today, he'd wondered what it would be like to just be able to touch Castiel and now that he could, he was definitely going to indulge himself.
Although not as built as himself or Sam, especially these days, Castiel was by no means slight and Dean couldn't wait to be able to actually just look at his lover. His explorations inevitably trailed lower and lower until he came to the prize attraction. After just one teasing touch, Castiel growled and bodily lifted him from the arm of the couch, making him yelp in surprise. His angel laughed and he scowled, though it was quickly wiped from his face as he wound his legs around Castiel's waist and brought their cocks into direct contact for the first time.
"Dean," Castiel moaned, claiming his mouth.
His answering moan was swallowed by his new lover, but Dean didn't mind in the least. Experimentally he rolled his hips and the resulting friction made him glad that he wasn't standing as he was sure that his knees would have given away. Between that, the heat and the all but electric sensation of touching his lover it was all simply far too much. It did, however, make him keenly aware of his currently position, especially when Castiel started walking.
"Dude, I'm not a chick!" Dean complained.
"No, you're mine," Castiel replied, nipping at his lips.
Then Dean was being lowered onto the couch itself and any further protests died in his throat as his lover pulled back and he was able to get the good look of Castiel that he'd desired earlier. He definitely liked what he saw and knew that many would never have guessed that this was what lay hidden beneath his angel's perpetual trench coat, not that he was complaining about this general lack of knowledge, because wow.
The look of hunger and lust on Castiel's face killed any protests that Dean had at being treated like a chick and instead he shifted in a way so as to draw his lover's attention exactly where he wanted it. Then he raised his eyebrows and forced a sultry note into his voice. "You just going to stand there and stare or are you actually going to follow through?"
Castiel's eyes narrowed and with another growl his angel stepped forward and lowered himself onto him. Dean moaned his approval and bucked up against his lover for more friction. He shifted a little to try and turn them without sending them both onto the floor, but it was like trying to move a large boulder.
"Mine," Castiel declared, nipping along his jaw even as his angel's hands swept possessively over his body. "Mine, not Death's."
Holy shit! Dean would never have thought it, but the way his lover was acting was turning him on like nothing ever had before and it scared him a little, not that he'd let that stop him. Not when he had a naked and willing Castiel on top of him and their every touch was sending him closer and closer to the edge. As it was he could already feel the tingling at the base of his spine and they'd hardly even done anything! He was pretty sure where this was heading and his thoughts were confirmed when Castiel reached down and pushed his thighs apart so that his angel could settle comfortably between them.
It had been a long time since Dean had bottomed for anyone so to do it twice in one day was very odd, but if that was what Castiel wanted right now then he wasn't going to complain. Not with how wonderful it all felt so far already and this new kink which he'd only just discovered. Who'd have thought that after everything which had happened in Hell that he'd have a kink for being manhandled and dominated? It could only be that for the first time in his life he truly and completely trusted his partner, and that despite all of the God and Purgatory souls stuff.
"Cas," Dean moaned when a slick finger circled his entrance and then slipped inside.
He didn't know where the lube came from, but Dean wasn't going to take the time to ask either. Not when they had far better things to do.
"Dean," Castiel replied, voice completely wrecked.
One look at his lover was all that Dean needed to see how far gone Castiel was. The angel's eyes were blown wide with only a small rim of blue still visible. Best of all, though, was the fact that those eyes were completely focused on him. It was the most intense of all his lover's penetrating gazes and instead of making him feel uncomfortable or self-conscious, it exhilarated him. To know that Castiel still wanted him so much despite knowing about all that he'd done was all that he needed to know. Besides, he'd never been ashamed of his body and now used all that he knew about how turn on his partners to turn his angel on even more.
His tactic worked and Castiel blanked his body once more and Dean moaned as his lover angled his head to kiss him, deep and dirty. The moment that he was ready, Castiel pulled his fingers free and positioned himself at his entrance, pushing in right away.
"Cas!" Dean cried out, throwing his head back.
His angel's hands tightened on his hips to the point that Dean wondered whether he'd have two new handprints there only in bruises this time, but he found that he didn't care. Actually no, that wasn't entirely true, he did care, just not in the way that he'd always have thought that he would. The simple truth was that the idea of bearing Castiel's marks, all of them, was turning him on and he whined when his lover's fingers clamped down around the base of his cock.
"Not yet," Castiel stated simply. "Not until I'm fucking you."
Dean mewled at the words, one hand clawing at the couch while the other reached out to grasp hold of his lover's shoulder. "Fuck, Cas, please!"
After a few careful thrusts to get him used to it, Castiel began to thrust harder and Dean's right arm shot up to brace himself against the arm of the couch as he started to slide across it with the force of his lover's thrusts.
"Dean," Castiel breathed. "Mine."
With his free arm, Dean tugged his lover down so he could kiss him once more. The shift in position allowed him to wrap one leg around Castiel's waist while the other tangled with his angel's. His cock became trapped between them, though the friction of their moving bodies was wonderful and he doubted that he'd need any more to come. Or he wouldn't when Castiel released the apparent Grace lock his angel now had on it.
"Mine," Castiel growled again when he pulled back so Dean could breathe. "Mine, and no one else's."
With that his lover latched onto his neck once more and Dean could do nothing but hang on as he was fucked like never before. He didn't know where his angel had learned to do it, but with just a slight shift of his hips, Castiel was nailing his prostate every time.
"Mine."
The continued possessive declarations were doing wonders for Dean and if anything he wanted more. More of them and more of it all and he knew exactly how to get it.
"Yours, yours except-" Dean broke off and mewled when Castiel growled and he felt teeth sink into his shoulder near his scar.
"No, no exceptions."
Castiel's face was right above his own just now, one hand at Dean's hip and the other clamped at the back of his neck. The strange desire to bare his throat rose within him but he repressed it, determined to see if he could get more, harder, faster.
"Death... he said... again."
Dean keened as his lover gave him exactly what he'd wanted, thrusting into him so hard that he knew he'd be feeling it for a week. His fingers dug into Castiel's back, knowing he couldn't hurt his angel even if he'd wanted to. There was an almost electrical charge between them and along with the heat and friction on his cock and the feel of Castiel deep within him it really was too much for him.
"Cas! Cas, Cas, shit, fuck, please!" Dean begged shamelessly. "G- Please, Cas!"
"Now," Castiel whispered into his ear, releasing his Grace lock.
The sudden loss of inhibition along with his lover's command was all Dean needed and he came with a cry, his vision edging white as he did. This orgasm was just as intense as the one he'd had earlier with Death and once more he lost awareness for a while. He couldn't know if it was for as long as the last time, but when he came around this time it was to find Castiel still moving on top of and inside him. He moaned at the feel of his lover and clenched down instinctively, making his angel breathe his name like it was a prayer.
"Come on, Cas, come on," Dean encouraged, pulling his lover down and returning the favor of feasting on his neck. "Just let go."
"Dean," Castiel moaned, voice even more wrecked than Dean had ever heard it before.
When Dean clenched down around his angel once more, Castiel thrust hard into him once, twice and then his lover was coming, cock pulsing deep inside of him. Since he'd already come himself, he was able to savor the sensation as he milked the last of Castiel's release from him before his lover went lax above him. He'd never admit it to anyone, but the feel of Castiel above him, still inhumanly warm and heavier that any blanket, was as close to perfect as he ever thought that he'd get. Especially when his lover began nuzzling his mauled neck, tongue licking soothingly at the hickies that Castiel had made.
A.N.: Well there you go, the promised sequel to Little Deaths, I hope you like it. There will be one more fic in the series at some point dealing with Death's return visit, but I'm not quire sure when that will be as one of my BB ideas is begging to be started. The series masterpost will be updated when I have a better idea of when the third fic will be ready.
For more on the title of this fic and the others in the series, please see the Purgatory Trilogy masterpost.