The Soul Puzzle, Part 2
Title: The Soul Puzzle
Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: up to and including 6.22
Warnings: slash, AU, dom!Cas, sub!Dean, bare backing, knotting, dark, destruction of a religious site
Word Count: 43,595
Note: This fic was written for the deancasbigbang 2012.
Summary: A year after the events of 6.22, Castiel awakes on the floor of a decadent mansion with little memory of what has happened and only Dean, whose soul has been horribly maimed, nearby. Can he figure out what happened and heal Dean? Especially when the horrible truth slowly starts to emerge?
Beta: aerilex
Artist: syrahde - Art Masterlist
The highest peaks of the Himalayas were calm and peaceful like always, as untouched by humanity as any place on Earth could be.
Somehow the tranquility failed to touch Castiel this time unlike how it had always managed to do on at least some level in the past. He had been the one to mutilate Dean's soul so abhorrently. He had taken his Father's most precious and amazing creation and utterly ruined it, shattering the splendid soul into countless shards.
Why had he done it?
It was the one thing that Castiel understood the least about this entire nightmarish scenario. How had he possibly come to think that it was a good idea to desecrate Dean so appallingly?
How had he even thought to do it in the first place?
It wasn't like there was any kind of true precedent for this type of mutilation. Sure, Castiel had heard the odd story of some creature- even his brother Lucifer if all tales were to be believed- splitting a soul in two, but nothing like this; never like this. This was so far beyond the mere rending of a soul as to hardly even be comparable. And yet he, of all the supernatural creatures out there and of all his brothers and sisters, had done it. Not one of those hopelessly enslaved to the Darkness, but him, a once trusted and welcomed friend of Dean's.
The sheer magnitude of precisely what it was that he had done and the betrayal of everything that he had held dear- most important of which was his human's trust- that it represented finally started to sink in and Castiel was unable to contain his emotions. Being utterly alone he let loose, crying out with both his vessel's and his true voices. The devastation was immediate as the very ground around him shook before there was an ominous rumbling and snow began to shift and slide. At first it was only just a little, but then there was more and more of it before a veritable avalanche had started and the entire left side of the mountain began to move, thundering down the mountain.
Castiel watched the devastation dispassionately, merely pleased that he had no particular desire to cause any more of it. At the very least it appeared that he was well and truly free from the Darkness and insanity of the Purgatory souls. It was something at least and he clung to it desperately.
Part of him wanted to be able to remember what had happened if for nothing more than to know all that he had to repent for and who he needed to apologize too since he sincerely doubted that Dean had been the only one whom he'd hurt. It was frightening to think that there were most likely others who he'd hurt if not as grievously, then at least as thoroughly. He would have to find some way of seeking forgiveness for all of those things if not from all of those people.
Penitence was the only thing he would focus on from this point forwards. It was-
The flash of Light was as unexpected as it was familiar to him and Castiel whirled around to face it. No, it- That felt just like-
Hope flared bright and strong within him and instinct took over. The next thing Castiel knew he was standing on the far side of the mountain, where the avalanche had started. The feeling was definitely stronger here and he began to dig. It was buried deeper than he'd expected it to be, but then he'd been on a God kick and given what he'd done he doubted that he'd have wanted to take any chance of someone attempting to interfere with his plans. Especially not considering that he'd already been facing unexpected opposition on one front.
The deeper he dug though, the more certain he got about what it was that he was actually digging up and Castiel tried to keep his hopes from rising. What it would mean if he was right...
The implications were staggering and he was completely unable to keep his emotions in check. It was only fitting that Dean be the one to raise his hopes so given that his former charge had been the one to introduce him to emotions in general. But it wasn't hope raised in vain, he was sure of that now, he could feel it. There was no way that his Grace would mistake that soul, or the shard of it that was buried out here at the ends of the Earth.
When Castiel finally got down deep enough to feel leather beneath his fingers, he'd completely forgotten to keep his vessel breathing. Jimmy's heart though was beating wildly and uncontrollably in his chest and he found that his hands were shaking as he pulled the leather briefcase out of its icy prison. The heat radiating from it caught him completely off-guard and it took him a moment or two to realize that it was the metaphysical heat of a soul rather than the physical heat that would have melted the ice and snow around the briefcase.
There wasn't a moment's hesitation as Castiel opened the case to view the soul shard inside. If he hadn't already known that it was a shard of Dean's soul then there would have been no doubt about it now. There was no other soul whose shard could be so searingly brilliant. It was even brighter than some of the souls that he'd seen during his time here on Earth. And Dean's soul in its entirety...
Castiel snapped the briefcase shut and took to flight.
/
His elation soured the moment that Castiel landed in the bedroom as it was empty.
The shade was gone.
Panic overtook Castiel and for one breathless second it was his entire world. His fear that he'd lost what little remained of Dean overcoming him and blinding him to reason. Luckily it faded and he paused long enough to scan the island with his Grace and relief flooded through his being as he felt the shade's presence nearby, safe and sound, or well as sound as it could be, a mere tatter of its former self.
Curious as to what such a small soul shard would choose to do, Castiel flew to it, taking a moment to look around when he arrived. Unsurprisingly enough it was a kitchen and the shade was sat at an elaborate table in the center of the room. A swell of fondness rose within him but some of it abated when he noticed that the food on its plate was all healthy and nutritious; there wasn't a single greasy or fried item on the menu.
How could he possibly have desired this? It was hardly even recognizable as Dean anymore.
"My Lord?"
"I got something for you," Castiel replied, ignoring the form of address.
"Something for me?"
The way the thought lit up the soul shard was intimately familiar to Castiel and gave him some little hope that what he was about to attempt was even remotely possible. It was just the boost that he needed in order to go through with it as he hadn't dared to think about it too much. Not only had this never been done before, but the odds of it succeeding were vanishingly small, practically nonexistent actually.
No, he wouldn't think of that, Castiel refused to. He had to remain positive here and believe that it was possible. Because if it wasn't...
"Yes, something for you," Castiel confirmed, pushing aside the shade's meal and placing the briefcase before it.
"What is it?"
"It's a surprise, you like surprises, don't you?"
As he said it, Castiel moved to stand behind the shade so that he could lean forward over its shoulders and reach the briefcase. He opened the latches once more and raised the lid. The soul shard inside lit up the room, shining brighter than the tropical sun outside. The soul shard inhabiting Dean's body drew in a sharp breath and he could feel it trembling where his arms brushed its shoulders.
"Is that...," the soul shard began, trailing off.
"Yes, it's yours," Castiel reassured. "Are you ready to have it back?"
"I- Whatever you wish, of course, my Lord."
The response sent some of Castiel's elation crashing but he persevered. "Yes, I wish."
"What do I need to do?"
"Just sit still."
Castiel had hoped for more direct permission but now he realized that he had been expecting too much from the first soul shard. It was a part of Dean's soul though and his human had never failed to surprise him in the past. Apparently he'd grown so used to that and was still expecting miracles from his hunter even now.
Reverently, Castiel reached out and took hold of the soul shard in the briefcase. Its presence skittered across his awareness, terror and joy exploding into being and racing along his Grace. The dichotomy made no sense to him, how could it be happy to see him after all that he had done to it and the rest of Dean's soul? Clearly he'd been wrong earlier, this particular soul shard was still enough like his former charge to be able to surprise him. It gave him the courage he needed to continue and with his free hand he turned the shade's chair around so that it was facing him. Then, without looking into its eyes, he reached forwards and into Dean's body.
The shade threw its head back and screamed at the violation but otherwise didn't protest in the slightest or attempt to break free and get away from him. It made it easier for Castiel but he desperately wished for at least some sign of a struggle or any indication that his hunter wasn't simply okay with this or that Dean refused to take it without at least some lip.
It was weird to be back inside his human in this manner, although Castiel supposed that he'd done it when he was shredding the soul he now sought to save. Since he couldn't recollect that, though, he chose to ignore it and focused on the sensations instead. It wasn't the same as before- the most important aspect of the experience missing- but he used the memory to guide his actions now. The closer that he got to the soul shard already in the shade's body, the more the shard he held vibrated in his hand. He could feel it, the both of them, seeking and longing to be reunited and that made it easier than he'd expected it to be.
The attraction of the two soul shards made it easier to see where they matched up and Castiel was glad that he'd found a shard that fit with the one he already had. Given the size of the shards he knew that there had to be enough of them for that not to be a given. The first real problem came when he had the two shards lined up with each other. As souls were never supposed to be torn, let alone shredded, they lacked the necessary repair mechanisms that human bodies possessed.
Castiel forced himself to remain calm and reached deep within his own Grace, towards the Light. It felt odd, almost as if it wasn't truly a part of himself but he pushed that disturbing feeling aside. Now was not the time to dwell on his own ruination, he'd simply have to deal with that later as long as it didn't threaten to harm anyone else.
With the power and Light, Castiel concentrated on where the ragged edges of the two soul shards met. He wasn't entirely sure of what he was doing but he followed his instincts. It felt a little like when he'd soothed Dean's wounded soul on their trip out of Perdition and he took that to mean that he was on the right track. The edges of the shards started to glow, shimmering with the Light of his Grace but it didn't seem to be quite enough.
Without a moment's hesitation, Castiel poured more into it and even fed a tiny sliver of his Grace into the process. That finally seemed to do the trick and the shimmering intensified before the edges started to blur, slowly dissolving into each other. He kept up the power until he was sure that it would hold and then he retreated slightly.
The glow died down and Castiel was able to see that the two soul shards had indeed become one once more though there was an ugly scar where they'd melded back together again. He frowned, disliking the imperfection where there had once been none. It was as he was brushing his fingers over it, attempting to soothe it away, that the memory burst into being along his awareness.
The air was heavy with rain and dark clouds were rolling in, their appearance a complete contrast to the sun and heat from before and Dean knew that they weren't natural. The way the ocean was still calm as glass, hardly even a wave to disturb its mirror like surface merely confirmed his suspicions.
Castiel was getting angry.
With a frown, Dean turned around and headed inside just as the first few fat drops hit the patio stones, hissing from the sun's heat they still held. Thunder rumbled in the distance as he padded barefoot through one opulent room after another. He knew that they all had names as Castiel had used them but personally he couldn't care less. What more did you need than enough bedrooms, some bathrooms, a kitchen and a living room? It was all just a waste.
Dean found the new God exactly where he'd expected to, in the room that Castiel had claimed as his workspace. The former angel was seated at a desk, papers strewn about before him and he still couldn't believe the paperwork that went with being a known deity, but given Castiel's hands on approach to lording it over all of creation he supposed that it was almost inevitable. Damn bureaucracy.
Whatever it was that Castiel was currently reading wasn't something the new God liked and Dean knew that he had to intervene now or there'd possibly be another Mecca incident. Luckily he knew just the thing and thought it might even help soothe the aching emptiness he felt deep inside. It had before, the last time.
With that boost, Dean padded over to his old friend and slipped his arms over Castiel's shoulders.
"Hey, Cas," Dean murmured, bending down to nuzzle at the former angel's throat as he knew Castiel liked.
Dean's own body was already reacting at the mere thought of what was to come and now he could hardly wait for an entirely new reason. At first the new God didn't react and he realized that Castiel was angrier than he'd thought, but then he licked the curve of the former angel's jaw and Castiel reacted with a growl that made him moan and harden further in his silken pants, the material teasing him as always.
The new God pushed his chair back and twisted in his seat all in one fluid movement. An arm wrapped around his waist and before Dean knew it, he'd been pulled into Castiel's lap. He moaned, grinding down as hands settled possessively on his hips.
"Dean," Castiel growled, voice heavy with lust.
Dean opened his mouth to reply but it was captured in a bruising kiss as the new God claimed his mouth, tongue and teeth taking what they wanted. The hands on his hips shifted and then Castiel rose to his feet and he was forced to wrap his legs around the former angel's waist or fall. The new position made him mewl as it lined his weeping cock up with the belt of Castiel's new outfit and the friction was delicious.
"Mine," Castiel declared, pulling back far enough to nudge his face aside to bite at the base of his throat.
Dean keened at the combination of verbal and physical claims and all of the doubts and worries that he'd been entertaining earlier in the day fled as the new God became his world.
"God, Cas! I- Please," Dean moaned.
"Please what, Dean?"
"You, anything... I want-"
"You want what, Precious? You want me to take you, claim you?"
"Yes!"
"You want me to knot you?"
Dean keened at the thought, hardly even noticing the brief sensation of flight until he was lowered onto their bed at which point he scrambled to help when Castiel tugged at his pants. Naked, he crawled backwards up the bed, never taking his eyes from his lover for an instant. He didn't want to miss the moment that the former angel revealed himself, vanishing his clothes rather than bothering to undress himself. It happened in the blink of an eye and he moaned as he caught sight of Castiel's hard cock, wanting it in him now.
Castiel wasted no time climbing onto the bed and crawling towards him with a predatory gleam in his eyes and Dean's arms gave way beneath him. He made embarrassing little noises as the former angel appeared above him, pausing a moment before lowering himself down onto him. He groaned at the feel of skin on skin as their cocks finally touched. His mouth was taken into another fierce, dominating kiss and he writhed beneath the new God as Castiel's hands ran possessively over his body.
There was the tingling sensation of the only prep that he'd get and Dean spread his legs eagerly, wanting to be filled. It was then, only when he was full with either Castiel's cock or seed that the soul deep ache inside of him lessened any. The ache that had been there ever since the first time that his former friend had reached deep inside of him and done something. He wasn't sure what it was, but it hurt like nothing else ever had, including Hell, and he was left constantly aching after.
Aching and feeling like he'd lost something vital that he could never regain.
His lover shoved a pillow beneath his hips and then Dean felt the blunt end of Castiel's cock pushing at his entrance. Though the supernatural prep had stretched him slightly, it wasn't enough to prevent a burn as the new God pushed into him in one go, but he loved it. It only added to the whole experience and made him aware of each and every inch as Castiel filled him up. He cried out, his back arching and his head rolling back as the new God pulled back out again right away, setting a hard, brutal pace.
Dean loved it.
He could do nothing but hold on and feel each and every inch of Castiel in and around him. He moaned as he shifted slightly, letting his lover in deeper and the new God claimed his mouth once more. Rational thought was vanishing rapidly and with it all thoughts of what had happened and he could delude himself that things were okay, just him and Cas, together.
"Mine," Castiel stated, nudging his head aside so the former angel could bite his way along his jaw and neck.
Dean moaned at the thought of the bruises that he'd have, yet more marks to brand him as Castiel's.
"Yours," Dean agreed readily. "All yours."
Castiel growled and bit down harder making Dean shout, toes curling at the dominating behavior of his lover. He was close now, the feel of the new God striking his prostate with each and every thrust almost too much but he knew that he couldn't come yet. Besides, he didn't want it to end, he wanted it to go on and on: he wanted for Castiel to never leave him.
It was as the former angel's thrusts finally started to become more erratic that Dean felt it, the slight pressure at his entrance. It was the start of the knot and he clung to his lover as it started to grow, still small enough to be pushed in and pulled out with each and every thrust. His eyes rolled back at the sensation and he mewled as the pressure slowly built until the knot could hardly fit. The burn was back, stronger than before and he came shortly after, the combined feelings of the ecstasy from his prostate followed immediately by the pull of the knot deep within him too much.
He managed to remain conscious this time but only just and Dean moaned as he felt Castiel moving above him, breath ragged and forcing the knot to shift within him a few times before the former angel bit down on his shoulder and came. He keened, the two sensations washing over him like aftershocks and his spent cock twitched with interest.
Dean loved the feel of his lover coming within him and so the way Castiel kept on doing so- pumping more and more of his seed into him- was exquisite. It filled him to the brim and kept coming, making him feel full with the pressure of it and making it easy for him to deceive himself that he was whole once more.
Castiel gasped when he broke free of the memory, disoriented and unable to fully grasp what he'd just experienced. It has been like having sex with himself or rather his evil twin as he'd once heard Dean put it when his hunter had been babbling on about some movie where the main character was split in two; a good half and an evil one.
Carefully Castiel pulled back but as he'd feared the whole experience had been too much for the shade and it was clinging to him desperately, shaking like a leaf.
"Shh, it's okay," Castiel soothed, wrapping his arms around the shade. "It's over for now."
His words didn't seem to be getting through and Castiel was at a loss as to what to do before an idea came to him. He shifted his arms slightly and picked up the shade before he turned around and took the vacated seat letting it curl up on his lap as he stroked the shade's back and continued to whisper reassurances to it.
/
The TV was larger than any Castiel had ever seen before and was far more complicated to operate as well. In the end he'd managed to figure it out on his own and now he sat on the sinfully soft sofa with the shade curled up beside him, its head resting on his thigh as he flipped through the seemingly endless number of channels. He'd been a bit surprised that it wanted to be anywhere near him voluntarily but then he'd remembered how Dean had felt in the memory; how his presence seemed to help soothe the hurt resulting from the mutilation of his soul and he'd allowed it even if he wanted to be as far from the shade as possible right now. Instead he forced his hand to rest on its back and he sent soothing reassurances at the shade from his Grace.
It must have worked as the shade had let out a few contented noises before drifting off into a half-sleep like state, simply basking in the attention. Castiel tried to ignore it all to focus on the TV but he found it difficult to do. He was even more aware of the soul shard than he'd ever been of Dean's soul though that made no sense.
That changed, however, once Castiel stumbled across the first news channel. He'd been hoping to discover more about what had happened similar to how Sam and Dean found cases using the news, but he could never have predicted what he found.
"Nervousness has begun to turn to fear in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil as yet another day has passed without a return of the Lord Castiel to impart the newly unveiled statue that has replaced the Christ on its perch over the city. Many fear God has taken a dislike to the craftsmanship or the length of time it has taken to both create and situate. The architect, we have been told, has gone into hiding in a desperate, and futile, attempt to avoid Lord Castiel's destructive wrath."
Click.
"Paris, France continues to draw in increasingly large numbers of visitors as people flock to Notre Dame to view the new stained glass window as praises for the craftsmanship and resemblance to Our Lord Castiel continue to pour in from art critics around the world."
Click.
"The first mass was held today in the newly created Lord of the Holy Grace cathedral in Tehran, Iran. It is the first of the former Islamic temples to be fully converted into a proper place of worship for the new faith and Father Aariz asked for the blessing of Our Lord Castiel at the start of the mass."
Click.
"The bonfire in Lawrence, Kansas continues to burn brightly as copies of the texts deemed heretical by the new God continue to be shipped there for public destruction. The crowd of true believers camped in the area continues to grow as they come to pay homage to the Holy fire and hope to catch a glimpse of the Lord and his Chosen on one of the new God's frequent visits to the area."
Click.
"Speculation continues to grow about the man deemed worthy enough to stand at Our Lord Castiel's side. Rumors and gossip abound but as of yet no one has managed to catch a glimpse of the face of the man under the cowl known only as Chosen. His height has ruled out various names already proposed but the Benedictine like robes make any further identification impossible."
The shade stirred beside Castiel and he quickly changed the channel, not wanting to fully wake it. He couldn't deal with the shade right now on top of everything else, not with all that he'd just learned. He'd decided to start watching TV in a desperate attempt to discover some tiny, insignificant little detail that might provide him with some further clues as to what had transpired during his extended God trip. He'd never expected to find this. Clearly he didn't do things by half and had gone all out and declared himself God to the whole world. This severely limited his options as it meant that his face would be instantly recognizable to most people and he'd have to take care that no one noticed him.
At least it seemed that he hadn't exposed Dean to the same worldwide recognition. Castiel strongly suspected that it had more to do with the jealous possessiveness that he'd felt during the only memory he had of the time in question than out of any real concern about what his human wanted, but he'd take what he could get. The other thing he could be thankful for was that there didn't seem to be any kind of major disaster that had recently happened. It helped to reinforce his suspicion that the Purgatory souls hadn't simply managed to break free from his control. Not that he'd really had any true control given what they'd managed to twist him into.
The shame was practically unbearable, but Castiel forced himself to bear it anyway. It was the least that he could do and would be merely a small part of his multifaceted penance.
But what to do now?
The shade muttered nonsensical words and stretched beside him, rubbing its face along his thigh. Castiel bit his lip and did his best not to react to the sensuality of the situation. His vessel, however, betrayed him and he felt his cock fill with blood and begin to tumescence. He was not a slave to the desires of the flesh though and did his best to ignore it. His hand, though, seemed to have a mind of its own and reached up to pet the shade's hair. It seemed to help though as the shade made a purring sound and settled down once more, basking in the attention.
/
The farmhouse was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but fields and fields as far as the human eye could see. Knowing exactly who it was that had taken up residence here, though, made Castiel careful. He'd known Bobby Singer far too well to underestimate the hunter and he doubted that the man had gotten any less vigilant in the past year. He strongly suspected that it was rather the opposite if anything.
The Enochian sigils and traps were cleverly hidden, worked into the rural surroundings and would have been easy to miss for anyone less cautious and knowledgeable than him. Luckily for Castiel, he had taught Robert most of what the hunter knew about warding against angels. Also, and again luckily for himself, he seemed to have learned many a new trick himself and he easily dismantled all of the sigils and protections that stood in his way, taking care to create as narrow a path through the defenses as possible. He didn't know if any of his brothers or sisters were also hunting Sam and Bobby (perhaps even on his own orders) and he didn't want to leave them open and vulnerable to attack.
Regardless of the outcome of this meeting, Castiel planned on recreating all of the protections he now dismantled. Dean would never forgive him if he allowed any further harm to come to his human's brother and substitute father figure. He could only hope that his hunter would ever be himself enough again in order to be able to give or refuse that forgiveness, but at present he was counting on it for his own sanity.
The gunshot came without warning, ripping open part of his vessel's chest in what Castiel could only assume was some futile and desperate attempt to defy reality. Bobby had been present after all the first time that Dean had tried this and had even partaken in the vain attempt. It was one of the things that he'd always admired about his former charge even as it had often exasperated him; his hunter's stubborn refusal to either give up or leave any stone unturned.
"I mean you no harm, Bobby," Castiel tried, doubting it would work. His reply was another salt round to the chest. "Nor do I mean Sam any harm. I just wish to speak with you."
Castiel was expecting to be shot once more, but no more bullets were forthcoming and he continued his task, moving ever closer to the farmhouse itself. Just as he was dismantling the last protections blocking his way, the door opened and Bobby stepped outside. Impressively the hunter wasn't carrying his shot gun and Castiel raised his hands away from his body to indicate that he wasn't armed either.
"What the hell do you want if you're not here to wipe us out of existence?" Bobby snarled, defiance in every line of his body.
"I simply wish to speak with you," Castiel repeated.
Bobby snorted. "Yeah and I'm going to put on a tutu and take up ballet."
The image that conjured up was disturbing and Castiel tilted his head to the side. "I do not think you would do well in that occupation."
It wasn't until the hunter stared at him, clearly baffled that Castiel realized Bobby had not been serious and he sighed. He was not sure that he would ever understand the human penchant for sarcasm. It was most confusing. Why didn't they simply say what they meant instead of cloaking it all in allusions and bizarre metaphors?
"You're different," Bobby stated, clearly unable to figure out what was going on.
"Yes, I am."
"How?"
"I don't know. I just woke up on the floor in the Maldives and but for one memory I have no recollection of the past year."
"You have no- Are you saying that you've got amnesia?"
"Yes."
Bobby ran a hand over his beard in a gesture Castiel knew well and it assuaged him to finally see something so familiar in someone he knew well. Almost everything that the shade did was wrong and when it did do something that Dean would have done it only served to underscore just how much it wasn't his beloved hunter. He hadn't realized how much he'd come to love and depend on the friendship and camaraderie that he'd had with Dean, Sam and Bobby until it had been lost to him. It was humbling to learn that he was as much susceptible to what he'd always viewed as the human failing of not being able to see what it was that he had until it was too late.
Castiel could only hope it wasn't all lost to him forever, though if that was to be his punishment then he'd simply have to bear it as best he could.
"How the hell do angels get amnesia?" Bobby demanded.
"I do not know. It has never occurred before that I am aware of," Castiel explained.
"So what happened to you?"
"I do not know, I can't remember."
"Christ," Bobby muttered, beginning to pace and Castiel felt the odd urge to copy his behavior but resisted. "What's the last thing you remember then?"
"Other than my one memory? Opening the door to Purgatory."
"Convenient."
"No, it is not. I do not know what I have done so cannot properly repent for my actions."
"Repent?" Bobby exclaimed, whirling around to face him. "Repent?"
"Yes, I am aware that what I did while under the influence of the Purgatory souls was..."
"Abominable? Atrocious? Inexcusable?"
The last word in particular made Castiel flinch, but he forced himself to meet the hunter's eyes as he replied. "As you say."
Bobby frowned, stepping closer to look at him. Castiel couldn't quite figure out what the hunter was thinking but he knew enough to know that something had changed. Bobby was more pensive than before and appeared to be more open to what he was saying. He could only assume that his current behavior was so far removed from how he had acted before as to lend some credence to his words.
"You really have changed, this isn't just some trick," Bobby muttered. "You didn't have the patience for something as drawn out and humbling as this before."
"No, he was far too self-righteous," Castiel agreed, his throat feeling strangely peculiar and making speech more difficult than it should be.
The hunter snorted. "That's one way of putting it. Okay, so if you're yourself again, then I assume that the souls are gone?"
"Yes, but I do not know what happened to them or where they are now."
"Balls!"
The cursing surprised Castiel, but he had observed humans using it as an outlet before and as far as coping mechanisms went it was one of the less destructive ones. Definitely better than resorting to alcohol as he unfortunately knew from personal experience. Either way, he knew better than to try and interfere as it was better if the hunter got it out of his system before continuing.
"So let me get this straight, you don't know all the horrible shit you pulled this past year, you don't know what happened to you and you don't know where the souls are. Is that right or did I miss anything?" Bobby thundered.
"No, that is accurate."
"Great, so what the hell are you doing here?"
"I-" Castiel began, his voice cutting out on him unexpectedly. Why was this happening to him? He didn't understand it. Was there something wrong with his vessel? "I require your help, Bobby."
"You what? How dare you, you no good back stabbing bastard?" Bobby roared, exploding forwards in a rush of angry movements. "First you lie and mislead us, then you kill Eleanor, break Sam's wall, declare yourself God, take Dean and wreak havoc on the world and now you dare come groveling back to me and ask me for my help? You've got a lot of nerve, Castiel."
"I know. There is much that I must repent for, but this is not for me. It's Dean, Bobby, he-"
The rest of his words were cut off as Bobby surged forwards and grabbed hold of his clothes, attempting to shake him. Castiel forced his vessel to relax and become as loose as a human so the hunter didn't hurt himself. He couldn't help but respect and admire the reaction, knowing exactly the kind of love and devotion that drove it. Bobby and Dean had always been close.
"What the fuck did you do to him?" Bobby demanded, voice low but all the more deadly for it. "I swear if you've hurt him, I'll- I'll find something to do to you that you'll never forget!"
Castiel's eyes dropped at the accusation, unable to face the hunter knowing that what he'd done was infinitely worse than anything that Bobby could possibly even think of on his own.
"No," Bobby denied, releasing him and stepping back. "No, you didn't- What did you do, Castiel?"
"I... there aren't words for what I did to him. All that Alastair did in Hell was kindness in comparison and I will gladly submit to whatever punishment you deem fit later."
"Later, you saying it can be reversed?"
"Maybe, though I will warn you now that Dean may never be the same again," Castiel answered truthfully. "What I am attempting has never been done before as it has never been necessary before. I don't know if it'll work even if we can find all of the shards."
"Shards, what shards?"
Castiel's shoulders hunched in some instinctual attempt to make himself as small as possible, as if that would help make what he was about to say less real somehow. "Of his soul."
"Of his-"
Horror and disbelief crossed Bobby's face as the hunter grasped precisely what he was trying to say and Castiel flinched once more but was completely unable to tear his eyes away. Bobby backed away from him as if that would make what he'd said any less atrocious.
"You tore apart his soul?" Bobby demanded.
"I-"
"No, get out of my sight!"
"Bobby-"
"Now. Get the hell out of my sight!"
Uncertain, Castiel hesitated for moment but then saw that he wouldn't be able to change the hunter's mind and he stayed just long enough to snap all of Bobby's protections back into place before leaving.
/
Not wanting to return to the Maldives so soon, Castiel flew to Lawrence, Kansas instead. He took care to cloak his presence and appeared at the edge of a forest. His own cowardice grated, but he had no wish to see a repeat of last night's fiasco so soon. Just the memory of the shade's confused and rejected face after he'd spurred its sexual advances was enough to pain him. The soul shard couldn't understand why he'd refused it and had worried that it had done something wrong to either upset or anger him.
Castiel was merely thankful that the shade hadn't realized how much its attention had affected him, because soul shard or not, it still looked like his precious human. That had only served to underscore how much it wasn't his hunter though and the pain of that thought was still all consuming. He didn't think that he'd ever longed for anything as much as he did for Dean right now. He'd give up his continued existence if it meant restoring his former charge. He knew better than to believe in such easy solutions though and even if there were a chance of it he'd be hesitant to try it, simply because if it failed then there'd be no one left to try anything else and Dean would truly be lost forever.
Not even wanting to think of the mere possibility, Castiel turned his attention to his surroundings. The bonfire the reporter had mentioned was easy to spot even in the daylight as it was so massive. Also easy to see were the sea of people camped out all around it, hardly even leaving room for the road that the trucks used to approach the area next to the bonfire that was piled high with books of all shapes, sizes and colors. He winced as he thought of what types of books he might have deemed unacceptable while high on the Purgatory souls.
Castiel wasn't sure if he should remain hidden or fly over there, reveal himself and order them to stop and douse the flames at once. Without knowing what he'd been like before and just what it was that he'd said to them in the first place, though, he didn't think it was a good idea. But what to do instead? He supposed that he could simply douse the bonfire himself, but then there would be nothing to prevent them from simply reigniting it once more somewhere else. Unless...
The idea came to him suddenly and Castiel smiled. Given that most of those present here were true believers of some form or another, providing them with something that they would view as a divine sign would surely be enough to keep them from merely restarting the bonfire. The deception rankled, but he couldn't see any other way out of the situation and he didn't wish for any important religious texts to be lost forever.
Half closing his eyes in concentration, Castiel reached out with his Grace toward the fire and caused it to leap several feet higher in an unnaturally fierce blaze. He kept it that way for a few moments to ensure that he had everyone's attention before beginning to alter the shape of the flames. Carefully he molded them into what he most commonly came across as the Christian interpretation of what his Father looked like. He kept it there for a few minutes, feeling as much as hearing the shock that rippled through the crowd, before he doused the flames entirely and ensured that they wouldn't start up once more without the entire bonfire being moved to a new location. Hopefully that would be enough to start making people question his godhood. It might be naive of him, but he sincerely hoped that along with his abrupt disappearance, something like this could make people go back to believing in his Father.
It was as he stayed to watch that Castiel suddenly felt it, a brief flicker of Light that would otherwise be easy to miss had he not felt the exact same thing just yesterday.
It was another shard of Dean's soul and it was nearby.
Instantly Castiel abandoned his interest in the shocked worshippers and turned all of his attention outwards, desperately seeking the location of the precious soul shard. It took longer than he would have liked (even making him worry that he wouldn't find it again), but it finally flickered across his awareness once more and he followed it blindly. The shard led him to a quiet residential street, at first glance indistinguishable from any other human street he'd seen before, but that only lasted as long as he didn't dig deeper.
The house he'd been drawn to looked vaguely familiar and Castiel frowned as a wave of joy, love, terror, horror washed over him out of nowhere. He was soon distracted from it though by the smaller of the two trees growing in the front garden. It was young, hardly older than a year, but it wasn't its physical appearance that captured his attention, but rather its very essence. The sapling fairly glowed to his angelic eyes with the brightness of a very familiar human soul. He couldn't help but smile at the fact that even shredded as it was, a small shard of Dean's soul was still able to not only touch the life around it, but to help it grow as well.
Reverently, Castiel approached the sapling and knelt before it. He could feel the soul shard strongly now and he began digging in the dirt, taking care not to damage any of the fragile roots the tree had sprouted. He would hate to injure anything that any part of Dean had deemed worthy of helping. This time he found a small painted box that hadn't, amazingly enough, broken. If the soul shard had influenced the tree so heavily despite being thus contained, then he couldn't help but wonder at what it would have achieved had it been directly exposed to the sapling's roots.
It was a humbling thought, especially considering the fact this was but a mere shard of Dean's soul.
With his precious burden held close, Castiel pushed the soil back into place before he flew back to the Maldives and the shade. Surprisingly he found it sleeping on one of the sun bed lounges, the drops of water drying on its skin the only sign that it hadn't just been lying there all day. Didn't the shade do anything much other than eat and sleep? Well, outside of trying to entice him into having sex with it? It was a disturbing thought and made him realize that he'd yet to rediscover the shard that held the true essence or fire of his hunter. There was no way that Dean would be this docile or lazy normally.
The thought that he might have specifically targeted that part of his human's soul first made Castiel feel ill and he seated himself on the edge of the sun bed lounge when his feet felt unsteady. Apparently he would have to become used to having his emotions affecting his physical being, or at least that of his vessel. Unable to help himself, he reached up and brushed a lock of hair off the shade's face, enthralled as it made a contented little noise, rubbing its face into the soft pillow before settling once more.
Not wanting to cause it anymore upset than strictly necessary, Castiel decided not to wake it before commencing the restoration process. He braced himself and then opened the box to remove the soul shard inside of it. It glowed brightly and pulsed with pleasure as he picked it up. Why would it do that? Why didn't it hate or fear him as any sane soul shard would when encountering the one who'd shredded it? It made no sense but then neither had Dean most of the time so perhaps this was a good sign.
Castiel laughed humorlessly. Only his former charge could make such an apparent contradiction into a good omen.
The sense of loss and bereavement rose swiftly within him and he tightened his hold on the soul shard instinctively. He missed Dean more than he could ever have imagined missing someone and it was like there was a hole in his Grace where something vital and irreplaceable had been ripped from him forever. And the worst thing was that he knew that he'd been the one to do so.
The shard in Castiel's hands continued to pulse, its Light and power skittering along the edges of his Grace as if it sought to comfort and console him. Part of him wanted to take it within himself and keep it safe forever instead of returning it to the shade where it would be helpless and would only scar together with the other soul shards instead of seamlessly reuniting with them as it really ought to be. He resisted the temptation though, knowing that he wasn't worthy of it regardless of all else.
With the shade unconscious, it was easier for Castiel to push his arm into Dean's body and he was already in before it woke. As before the shard was attracted to the soul shards the shade already possessed and he was silently thankful that he'd managed to find another shard that fit with what he already had instead of one that wouldn't be able to reconnect. He wasn't sure what would transpire then as there was absolutely no precedent for anything even remotely like this situation.
Now that he already knew what to do, Castiel was able to complete the process faster though he was still sucked into a memory that seemed to spring up from where the soul shards scarred together. He tried to resist it, not sure if he could handle knowing so much more of what he'd done, not to mention that he doubted that Dean would approve of his having so intimate a knowledge of what his hunter thought and felt, but it was futile. All that his struggles accomplished was that the first part of the memory (which seemed to consist of the time immediately following his acquisition of the Purgatory souls and he saw himself carelessly kill Raphael and confront his friends with a shocking ultimatum) was more like a distant and poorly filmed movie than a complete experience before it caught him up in its undertow and he was swept along for the ride as his human had experienced it.
"I'm your new God, a better one. So you will bow down and profess your love onto me, your Lord, or I shall destroy you," Castiel declared coldly.
Dean could only stare at his friend in disbelief and horror, completely unable to believe what he was hearing. No, this couldn't be happening, not to Cas, not to the angel who'd stood by his side and defied his brothers and sisters and even Heaven itself in order to do what was right and just. It just couldn't be.
"Cas," Dean began, his throat closing up on him as his emotions rose in a veritable maelstrom inside of him that he couldn't even hope to cope with, let alone understand.
God dammit, but he'd told Castiel that this would happen! He'd told the stupid idiot and yet his friend had gone and done it anyway. Why did no one ever listen to him when he warned them about what it was that they were doing? It wasn't like he didn't have a good track record at seeing bad shit like this coming a mile off. So why? And why did he have to keep losing the people that he loved the most?
Before he could even think of anything else, Castiel was right in front of him and Dean took an involuntary step back. Though he'd never admit it to anyone, he was glad that he had as he could hardly stand to be near it, the ruin of his first and only true friend. Looking into Cas' eyes just now was like looking into a soulless abyss and the horrific irony of that wasn't lost on him, not in the slightest. Only his angel could fill himself up to the brim with souls and become a creature that didn't even know what it meant to have one.
"You will bow down before me and profess your love to me," Castiel declared.
"No, we won't," Sam retorted. "You know us better than that, Cas. You know Dean better than that."
"Shut up, Sam," Dean hissed, not at all liking the way that the former angel looked at his brother. "Cas, man, come on, we-"
"You will address me with the proper respect that I deserve as your new God," Castiel interrupted. "Or you will suffer the consequences."
With a small gesture, Castiel sent Sam crashing to his knees with a howl.
"Sam!" Dean cried out, trying to rush to his brother's side only to find his way blocked by his former friend. "What the hell did you just do to him?"
"I caused more of his wall to collapse, bringing more memories from his time in the cage with Lucifer and Michael to the surface."
"More of his wall?"
"I might have been less than entirely honest before."
Dean snorted. "Ya think? You'd promised to restore his wall after you got your precious souls and I don't see that happening either."
"No, I promised to restore the wall if you didn't interfere. You did."
"Not like it stopped you."
"It's the principle of the thing."
"The principle of the thing?" Dean requested in disbelief. "Are you even hearing yourself, Cas? You'd never have said that before. Hell, you wouldn't even have known the expression. The souls are clearly changing you, you've got to see that!"
"Of course they are changing me, Dean. I now have the knowledge and power of countless beings within me."
"Yeah, countless evil beings. They were in Purgatory for a reason!"
"I control the souls, they do not control me."
"You sure about that?"
This time Dean was able to resist the temptation to back up when Castiel stepped closer to him, all but obliterating what little space remained between them. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end with the sheer power that rolled off the former angel, electrifying the air all around them and causing his every instinct to scream at him that he needed to get out of here. Now.
"Look at you," Castiel mused. "So small and insignificant and yet so willful and feisty. But make no mistake, Dean, you can fight all that you want, but in the end you will bow down before me and do so gladly."
The sheer conviction in those words made Dean swallow. Together with the close proximity of Castiel, his mind and body were at war with one another. He'd always been attracted to the former angel, since even before he'd come to even like Castiel, and that had only grown when they'd gotten to know each other and grown even closer. If it hadn't been for the former angel's terrified expression at the brothel, he'd have made a move long ago. Instead he'd been good and had kept his hands to himself but it was always hard to do when they stood as close as this. It was a first for even him, though, to be turned on by someone who was also scaring the crap out of him.
"I thought you said that you'd be a better God," Bobby challenged, interrupting their staring contest and Dean looked away gladly, unable to meet that dead gaze any longer.
He hated looking at his friend and not seeing his Cas looking back out at him. How had things come to this?
"I am a better God," Castiel replied, not taking his eyes off of Dean.
"Then how about you prove it with some mercy?"
That made Castiel turn away from him to face Bobby who was hunched by Sam's side, and Dean sighed with relief.
"I am being merciful by not killing you all for your attempt to stop me and Sam's attempt to kill me. The only reason that you or Sam are still alive, Robert Singer, is because Dean would resist learning his place even more if I were to kill you."
"What?" Dean exclaimed, once more reduced to horror and disbelief.
"Like I said, I will see you kneeling before me, professing your love unto me," Castiel reiterated.
Then, before Dean could even think of responding to that, there were two fingers on his forehead and the world dissolved around him accompanied by Bobby's frantic cries.
Somehow this particular memory had far more power to shake Castiel than any of the previous ones had. Between his own horror and dismay at it and the shade's reaction to having another shard of its soul so abruptly returned to it, understanding was slow to come to him but eventually it did. This particular memory had taken place almost immediately after he'd gained the Purgatory souls and yet already he'd been swallowed up and almost lost in their influence and evil. Everything that his beloved human had said was right, he'd just been far too drunk on power and Darkness to see the truth of it.
The knowledge of how much he'd hurt and betrayed Dean's trust stung Castiel more than he cared to think too deeply about and instead he focused his attention on soothing the shade. He still couldn't understand why it kept coming to him for comfort and protection after all that he'd done to it, but he wasn't about to refuse the shade this. No, he'd get it whatever made it feel better so long as he didn't think it wanted anything harmful to either itself or others.
Or was anything that Castiel knew that Dean would never want. He would not pander to the perverted needs that he'd instilled into the shade and made it think were its own.
Eventually the soul shard inside the shade stopped trembling so much and Castiel ceased his attentions, not wanting for them to turn into something else inadvertently. He had seen enough between Dean's fractured memories and the shade's earlier licentious behavior to know that he'd broken and trained the soul shard to twist most situations into sexual ones.
"Why don't you take another swim?" Castiel suggested, hoping to distract it. "Some more exercise will do you good."
"As you wish, m- Cas."
Castiel resisted the human urge to sigh at the way that the shade managed to turn his nickname into a title. With the way that it said the moniker the shade might as well have used the words 'my Lord,' but he supposed that he had to be thankful it was using his name at all. Part of him had hoped that in once more possessing memories like the one that he'd witnessed only a short while ago, that more of Dean might emerge, but really he should have known better. Having the memories meant nothing if the part of the soul that was the true essence, or spark, was still missing. That particular shard (and he desperately hoped that it was still in one piece somewhere and not torn to shreds like all of the rest of Dean's soul) was the key and without it, the rest of the soul shards would only ever be reflected echoes of Dean, hopelessly distorted and but poor, imperfect imitations of the real thing.
The splash of water brought Castiel back to the present and he turned to look at the shade cutting through the crystal clear water with strong, clean strokes. He couldn't help but wonder if it got any enjoyment from the act. He knew that many humans greatly enjoyed spending time in the water and he wondered if that harkened back to their time in their mother's womb. Some subconscious memory perhaps?
"Uh, Castiel, can you hear me?" Bobby's voice suddenly echoed in his head.
It startled Castiel, having not expected anyone to call out or pray to him. Once he started paying attention, however, he realized that there were many voices calling his name. Many human voices. He hadn't noticed them before as they were a low background noise much as his brothers' and sisters' voices had once been, before he'd started to fall and so it had felt both familiar and normal to him. Now, though, he could easily tell the difference and was amazed that he hadn't noticed it before.
"I've thought about what you said and while I'm still furious with you, I'll hear you out," Bobby continued. "Not for you mind, but for Dean's sake. So get your feathered ass back here."
Hope and relief rose swiftly within Castiel and he took off at once, not wanting to risk the hunter changing his mind. Bobby was waiting for him on the porch and he made swift work of the protections and sigils that he'd already dismantled once before, taking care to recreate them behind him as he went.
"Why do I even bother?" Bobby grumbled, shaking his head as he watched. "Clearly it's all useless."
"Just to me, I am sure that they would keep out anyone else you didn't want finding you," Castiel replied.
"They weren't meant for anyone else."
The pointed comment made Castiel flinch and pause. "I know and I'm sorry."
"Were they ever effective against you or could you always circumnavigate them?"
"No, when I taught them to you they would have worked on me."
"So what changed?"
"I don't know."
"Of course not."
Even Castiel could easily detect the disbelief in that statement but he let it slide. It was only what he deserved after all that he'd done and if it would allow him to better help save Dean, then he'd put up with it without protest.
"Well you weren't lying about having changed, that's for sure," Bobby said. "No point in staying out here then. Besides, I think I need alcohol for this conversation and lots of it."
Dutifully, Castiel followed the hunter into the farmhouse, casting curious glances about as they walked to the kitchen. There wasn't much about the place to indicate that either Bobby or Sam had spent any significant time here so either they were moving from place to place in a desperate- and futile- attempt to stay one step ahead of his past self, or they'd taken care not to settle down too much. He was not surprised when he wasn't offered a drink when the hunter poured himself one.
"Okay, start at the beginning and leave nothing out," Bobby ordered.
Part 3
Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: up to and including 6.22
Warnings: slash, AU, dom!Cas, sub!Dean, bare backing, knotting, dark, destruction of a religious site
Word Count: 43,595
Note: This fic was written for the deancasbigbang 2012.
Summary: A year after the events of 6.22, Castiel awakes on the floor of a decadent mansion with little memory of what has happened and only Dean, whose soul has been horribly maimed, nearby. Can he figure out what happened and heal Dean? Especially when the horrible truth slowly starts to emerge?
Beta: aerilex
Artist: syrahde - Art Masterlist
The highest peaks of the Himalayas were calm and peaceful like always, as untouched by humanity as any place on Earth could be.
Somehow the tranquility failed to touch Castiel this time unlike how it had always managed to do on at least some level in the past. He had been the one to mutilate Dean's soul so abhorrently. He had taken his Father's most precious and amazing creation and utterly ruined it, shattering the splendid soul into countless shards.
Why had he done it?
It was the one thing that Castiel understood the least about this entire nightmarish scenario. How had he possibly come to think that it was a good idea to desecrate Dean so appallingly?
How had he even thought to do it in the first place?
It wasn't like there was any kind of true precedent for this type of mutilation. Sure, Castiel had heard the odd story of some creature- even his brother Lucifer if all tales were to be believed- splitting a soul in two, but nothing like this; never like this. This was so far beyond the mere rending of a soul as to hardly even be comparable. And yet he, of all the supernatural creatures out there and of all his brothers and sisters, had done it. Not one of those hopelessly enslaved to the Darkness, but him, a once trusted and welcomed friend of Dean's.
The sheer magnitude of precisely what it was that he had done and the betrayal of everything that he had held dear- most important of which was his human's trust- that it represented finally started to sink in and Castiel was unable to contain his emotions. Being utterly alone he let loose, crying out with both his vessel's and his true voices. The devastation was immediate as the very ground around him shook before there was an ominous rumbling and snow began to shift and slide. At first it was only just a little, but then there was more and more of it before a veritable avalanche had started and the entire left side of the mountain began to move, thundering down the mountain.
Castiel watched the devastation dispassionately, merely pleased that he had no particular desire to cause any more of it. At the very least it appeared that he was well and truly free from the Darkness and insanity of the Purgatory souls. It was something at least and he clung to it desperately.
Part of him wanted to be able to remember what had happened if for nothing more than to know all that he had to repent for and who he needed to apologize too since he sincerely doubted that Dean had been the only one whom he'd hurt. It was frightening to think that there were most likely others who he'd hurt if not as grievously, then at least as thoroughly. He would have to find some way of seeking forgiveness for all of those things if not from all of those people.
Penitence was the only thing he would focus on from this point forwards. It was-
The flash of Light was as unexpected as it was familiar to him and Castiel whirled around to face it. No, it- That felt just like-
Hope flared bright and strong within him and instinct took over. The next thing Castiel knew he was standing on the far side of the mountain, where the avalanche had started. The feeling was definitely stronger here and he began to dig. It was buried deeper than he'd expected it to be, but then he'd been on a God kick and given what he'd done he doubted that he'd have wanted to take any chance of someone attempting to interfere with his plans. Especially not considering that he'd already been facing unexpected opposition on one front.
The deeper he dug though, the more certain he got about what it was that he was actually digging up and Castiel tried to keep his hopes from rising. What it would mean if he was right...
The implications were staggering and he was completely unable to keep his emotions in check. It was only fitting that Dean be the one to raise his hopes so given that his former charge had been the one to introduce him to emotions in general. But it wasn't hope raised in vain, he was sure of that now, he could feel it. There was no way that his Grace would mistake that soul, or the shard of it that was buried out here at the ends of the Earth.
When Castiel finally got down deep enough to feel leather beneath his fingers, he'd completely forgotten to keep his vessel breathing. Jimmy's heart though was beating wildly and uncontrollably in his chest and he found that his hands were shaking as he pulled the leather briefcase out of its icy prison. The heat radiating from it caught him completely off-guard and it took him a moment or two to realize that it was the metaphysical heat of a soul rather than the physical heat that would have melted the ice and snow around the briefcase.
There wasn't a moment's hesitation as Castiel opened the case to view the soul shard inside. If he hadn't already known that it was a shard of Dean's soul then there would have been no doubt about it now. There was no other soul whose shard could be so searingly brilliant. It was even brighter than some of the souls that he'd seen during his time here on Earth. And Dean's soul in its entirety...
Castiel snapped the briefcase shut and took to flight.
/
His elation soured the moment that Castiel landed in the bedroom as it was empty.
The shade was gone.
Panic overtook Castiel and for one breathless second it was his entire world. His fear that he'd lost what little remained of Dean overcoming him and blinding him to reason. Luckily it faded and he paused long enough to scan the island with his Grace and relief flooded through his being as he felt the shade's presence nearby, safe and sound, or well as sound as it could be, a mere tatter of its former self.
Curious as to what such a small soul shard would choose to do, Castiel flew to it, taking a moment to look around when he arrived. Unsurprisingly enough it was a kitchen and the shade was sat at an elaborate table in the center of the room. A swell of fondness rose within him but some of it abated when he noticed that the food on its plate was all healthy and nutritious; there wasn't a single greasy or fried item on the menu.
How could he possibly have desired this? It was hardly even recognizable as Dean anymore.
"My Lord?"
"I got something for you," Castiel replied, ignoring the form of address.
"Something for me?"
The way the thought lit up the soul shard was intimately familiar to Castiel and gave him some little hope that what he was about to attempt was even remotely possible. It was just the boost that he needed in order to go through with it as he hadn't dared to think about it too much. Not only had this never been done before, but the odds of it succeeding were vanishingly small, practically nonexistent actually.
No, he wouldn't think of that, Castiel refused to. He had to remain positive here and believe that it was possible. Because if it wasn't...
"Yes, something for you," Castiel confirmed, pushing aside the shade's meal and placing the briefcase before it.
"What is it?"
"It's a surprise, you like surprises, don't you?"
As he said it, Castiel moved to stand behind the shade so that he could lean forward over its shoulders and reach the briefcase. He opened the latches once more and raised the lid. The soul shard inside lit up the room, shining brighter than the tropical sun outside. The soul shard inhabiting Dean's body drew in a sharp breath and he could feel it trembling where his arms brushed its shoulders.
"Is that...," the soul shard began, trailing off.
"Yes, it's yours," Castiel reassured. "Are you ready to have it back?"
"I- Whatever you wish, of course, my Lord."
The response sent some of Castiel's elation crashing but he persevered. "Yes, I wish."
"What do I need to do?"
"Just sit still."
Castiel had hoped for more direct permission but now he realized that he had been expecting too much from the first soul shard. It was a part of Dean's soul though and his human had never failed to surprise him in the past. Apparently he'd grown so used to that and was still expecting miracles from his hunter even now.
Reverently, Castiel reached out and took hold of the soul shard in the briefcase. Its presence skittered across his awareness, terror and joy exploding into being and racing along his Grace. The dichotomy made no sense to him, how could it be happy to see him after all that he had done to it and the rest of Dean's soul? Clearly he'd been wrong earlier, this particular soul shard was still enough like his former charge to be able to surprise him. It gave him the courage he needed to continue and with his free hand he turned the shade's chair around so that it was facing him. Then, without looking into its eyes, he reached forwards and into Dean's body.
The shade threw its head back and screamed at the violation but otherwise didn't protest in the slightest or attempt to break free and get away from him. It made it easier for Castiel but he desperately wished for at least some sign of a struggle or any indication that his hunter wasn't simply okay with this or that Dean refused to take it without at least some lip.
It was weird to be back inside his human in this manner, although Castiel supposed that he'd done it when he was shredding the soul he now sought to save. Since he couldn't recollect that, though, he chose to ignore it and focused on the sensations instead. It wasn't the same as before- the most important aspect of the experience missing- but he used the memory to guide his actions now. The closer that he got to the soul shard already in the shade's body, the more the shard he held vibrated in his hand. He could feel it, the both of them, seeking and longing to be reunited and that made it easier than he'd expected it to be.
The attraction of the two soul shards made it easier to see where they matched up and Castiel was glad that he'd found a shard that fit with the one he already had. Given the size of the shards he knew that there had to be enough of them for that not to be a given. The first real problem came when he had the two shards lined up with each other. As souls were never supposed to be torn, let alone shredded, they lacked the necessary repair mechanisms that human bodies possessed.
Castiel forced himself to remain calm and reached deep within his own Grace, towards the Light. It felt odd, almost as if it wasn't truly a part of himself but he pushed that disturbing feeling aside. Now was not the time to dwell on his own ruination, he'd simply have to deal with that later as long as it didn't threaten to harm anyone else.
With the power and Light, Castiel concentrated on where the ragged edges of the two soul shards met. He wasn't entirely sure of what he was doing but he followed his instincts. It felt a little like when he'd soothed Dean's wounded soul on their trip out of Perdition and he took that to mean that he was on the right track. The edges of the shards started to glow, shimmering with the Light of his Grace but it didn't seem to be quite enough.
Without a moment's hesitation, Castiel poured more into it and even fed a tiny sliver of his Grace into the process. That finally seemed to do the trick and the shimmering intensified before the edges started to blur, slowly dissolving into each other. He kept up the power until he was sure that it would hold and then he retreated slightly.
The glow died down and Castiel was able to see that the two soul shards had indeed become one once more though there was an ugly scar where they'd melded back together again. He frowned, disliking the imperfection where there had once been none. It was as he was brushing his fingers over it, attempting to soothe it away, that the memory burst into being along his awareness.
The air was heavy with rain and dark clouds were rolling in, their appearance a complete contrast to the sun and heat from before and Dean knew that they weren't natural. The way the ocean was still calm as glass, hardly even a wave to disturb its mirror like surface merely confirmed his suspicions.
Castiel was getting angry.
With a frown, Dean turned around and headed inside just as the first few fat drops hit the patio stones, hissing from the sun's heat they still held. Thunder rumbled in the distance as he padded barefoot through one opulent room after another. He knew that they all had names as Castiel had used them but personally he couldn't care less. What more did you need than enough bedrooms, some bathrooms, a kitchen and a living room? It was all just a waste.
Dean found the new God exactly where he'd expected to, in the room that Castiel had claimed as his workspace. The former angel was seated at a desk, papers strewn about before him and he still couldn't believe the paperwork that went with being a known deity, but given Castiel's hands on approach to lording it over all of creation he supposed that it was almost inevitable. Damn bureaucracy.
Whatever it was that Castiel was currently reading wasn't something the new God liked and Dean knew that he had to intervene now or there'd possibly be another Mecca incident. Luckily he knew just the thing and thought it might even help soothe the aching emptiness he felt deep inside. It had before, the last time.
With that boost, Dean padded over to his old friend and slipped his arms over Castiel's shoulders.
"Hey, Cas," Dean murmured, bending down to nuzzle at the former angel's throat as he knew Castiel liked.
Dean's own body was already reacting at the mere thought of what was to come and now he could hardly wait for an entirely new reason. At first the new God didn't react and he realized that Castiel was angrier than he'd thought, but then he licked the curve of the former angel's jaw and Castiel reacted with a growl that made him moan and harden further in his silken pants, the material teasing him as always.
The new God pushed his chair back and twisted in his seat all in one fluid movement. An arm wrapped around his waist and before Dean knew it, he'd been pulled into Castiel's lap. He moaned, grinding down as hands settled possessively on his hips.
"Dean," Castiel growled, voice heavy with lust.
Dean opened his mouth to reply but it was captured in a bruising kiss as the new God claimed his mouth, tongue and teeth taking what they wanted. The hands on his hips shifted and then Castiel rose to his feet and he was forced to wrap his legs around the former angel's waist or fall. The new position made him mewl as it lined his weeping cock up with the belt of Castiel's new outfit and the friction was delicious.
"Mine," Castiel declared, pulling back far enough to nudge his face aside to bite at the base of his throat.
Dean keened at the combination of verbal and physical claims and all of the doubts and worries that he'd been entertaining earlier in the day fled as the new God became his world.
"God, Cas! I- Please," Dean moaned.
"Please what, Dean?"
"You, anything... I want-"
"You want what, Precious? You want me to take you, claim you?"
"Yes!"
"You want me to knot you?"
Dean keened at the thought, hardly even noticing the brief sensation of flight until he was lowered onto their bed at which point he scrambled to help when Castiel tugged at his pants. Naked, he crawled backwards up the bed, never taking his eyes from his lover for an instant. He didn't want to miss the moment that the former angel revealed himself, vanishing his clothes rather than bothering to undress himself. It happened in the blink of an eye and he moaned as he caught sight of Castiel's hard cock, wanting it in him now.
Castiel wasted no time climbing onto the bed and crawling towards him with a predatory gleam in his eyes and Dean's arms gave way beneath him. He made embarrassing little noises as the former angel appeared above him, pausing a moment before lowering himself down onto him. He groaned at the feel of skin on skin as their cocks finally touched. His mouth was taken into another fierce, dominating kiss and he writhed beneath the new God as Castiel's hands ran possessively over his body.
There was the tingling sensation of the only prep that he'd get and Dean spread his legs eagerly, wanting to be filled. It was then, only when he was full with either Castiel's cock or seed that the soul deep ache inside of him lessened any. The ache that had been there ever since the first time that his former friend had reached deep inside of him and done something. He wasn't sure what it was, but it hurt like nothing else ever had, including Hell, and he was left constantly aching after.
Aching and feeling like he'd lost something vital that he could never regain.
His lover shoved a pillow beneath his hips and then Dean felt the blunt end of Castiel's cock pushing at his entrance. Though the supernatural prep had stretched him slightly, it wasn't enough to prevent a burn as the new God pushed into him in one go, but he loved it. It only added to the whole experience and made him aware of each and every inch as Castiel filled him up. He cried out, his back arching and his head rolling back as the new God pulled back out again right away, setting a hard, brutal pace.
Dean loved it.
He could do nothing but hold on and feel each and every inch of Castiel in and around him. He moaned as he shifted slightly, letting his lover in deeper and the new God claimed his mouth once more. Rational thought was vanishing rapidly and with it all thoughts of what had happened and he could delude himself that things were okay, just him and Cas, together.
"Mine," Castiel stated, nudging his head aside so the former angel could bite his way along his jaw and neck.
Dean moaned at the thought of the bruises that he'd have, yet more marks to brand him as Castiel's.
"Yours," Dean agreed readily. "All yours."
Castiel growled and bit down harder making Dean shout, toes curling at the dominating behavior of his lover. He was close now, the feel of the new God striking his prostate with each and every thrust almost too much but he knew that he couldn't come yet. Besides, he didn't want it to end, he wanted it to go on and on: he wanted for Castiel to never leave him.
It was as the former angel's thrusts finally started to become more erratic that Dean felt it, the slight pressure at his entrance. It was the start of the knot and he clung to his lover as it started to grow, still small enough to be pushed in and pulled out with each and every thrust. His eyes rolled back at the sensation and he mewled as the pressure slowly built until the knot could hardly fit. The burn was back, stronger than before and he came shortly after, the combined feelings of the ecstasy from his prostate followed immediately by the pull of the knot deep within him too much.
He managed to remain conscious this time but only just and Dean moaned as he felt Castiel moving above him, breath ragged and forcing the knot to shift within him a few times before the former angel bit down on his shoulder and came. He keened, the two sensations washing over him like aftershocks and his spent cock twitched with interest.
Dean loved the feel of his lover coming within him and so the way Castiel kept on doing so- pumping more and more of his seed into him- was exquisite. It filled him to the brim and kept coming, making him feel full with the pressure of it and making it easy for him to deceive himself that he was whole once more.
Castiel gasped when he broke free of the memory, disoriented and unable to fully grasp what he'd just experienced. It has been like having sex with himself or rather his evil twin as he'd once heard Dean put it when his hunter had been babbling on about some movie where the main character was split in two; a good half and an evil one.
Carefully Castiel pulled back but as he'd feared the whole experience had been too much for the shade and it was clinging to him desperately, shaking like a leaf.
"Shh, it's okay," Castiel soothed, wrapping his arms around the shade. "It's over for now."
His words didn't seem to be getting through and Castiel was at a loss as to what to do before an idea came to him. He shifted his arms slightly and picked up the shade before he turned around and took the vacated seat letting it curl up on his lap as he stroked the shade's back and continued to whisper reassurances to it.
/
The TV was larger than any Castiel had ever seen before and was far more complicated to operate as well. In the end he'd managed to figure it out on his own and now he sat on the sinfully soft sofa with the shade curled up beside him, its head resting on his thigh as he flipped through the seemingly endless number of channels. He'd been a bit surprised that it wanted to be anywhere near him voluntarily but then he'd remembered how Dean had felt in the memory; how his presence seemed to help soothe the hurt resulting from the mutilation of his soul and he'd allowed it even if he wanted to be as far from the shade as possible right now. Instead he forced his hand to rest on its back and he sent soothing reassurances at the shade from his Grace.
It must have worked as the shade had let out a few contented noises before drifting off into a half-sleep like state, simply basking in the attention. Castiel tried to ignore it all to focus on the TV but he found it difficult to do. He was even more aware of the soul shard than he'd ever been of Dean's soul though that made no sense.
That changed, however, once Castiel stumbled across the first news channel. He'd been hoping to discover more about what had happened similar to how Sam and Dean found cases using the news, but he could never have predicted what he found.
"Nervousness has begun to turn to fear in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil as yet another day has passed without a return of the Lord Castiel to impart the newly unveiled statue that has replaced the Christ on its perch over the city. Many fear God has taken a dislike to the craftsmanship or the length of time it has taken to both create and situate. The architect, we have been told, has gone into hiding in a desperate, and futile, attempt to avoid Lord Castiel's destructive wrath."
Click.
"Paris, France continues to draw in increasingly large numbers of visitors as people flock to Notre Dame to view the new stained glass window as praises for the craftsmanship and resemblance to Our Lord Castiel continue to pour in from art critics around the world."
Click.
"The first mass was held today in the newly created Lord of the Holy Grace cathedral in Tehran, Iran. It is the first of the former Islamic temples to be fully converted into a proper place of worship for the new faith and Father Aariz asked for the blessing of Our Lord Castiel at the start of the mass."
Click.
"The bonfire in Lawrence, Kansas continues to burn brightly as copies of the texts deemed heretical by the new God continue to be shipped there for public destruction. The crowd of true believers camped in the area continues to grow as they come to pay homage to the Holy fire and hope to catch a glimpse of the Lord and his Chosen on one of the new God's frequent visits to the area."
Click.
"Speculation continues to grow about the man deemed worthy enough to stand at Our Lord Castiel's side. Rumors and gossip abound but as of yet no one has managed to catch a glimpse of the face of the man under the cowl known only as Chosen. His height has ruled out various names already proposed but the Benedictine like robes make any further identification impossible."
The shade stirred beside Castiel and he quickly changed the channel, not wanting to fully wake it. He couldn't deal with the shade right now on top of everything else, not with all that he'd just learned. He'd decided to start watching TV in a desperate attempt to discover some tiny, insignificant little detail that might provide him with some further clues as to what had transpired during his extended God trip. He'd never expected to find this. Clearly he didn't do things by half and had gone all out and declared himself God to the whole world. This severely limited his options as it meant that his face would be instantly recognizable to most people and he'd have to take care that no one noticed him.
At least it seemed that he hadn't exposed Dean to the same worldwide recognition. Castiel strongly suspected that it had more to do with the jealous possessiveness that he'd felt during the only memory he had of the time in question than out of any real concern about what his human wanted, but he'd take what he could get. The other thing he could be thankful for was that there didn't seem to be any kind of major disaster that had recently happened. It helped to reinforce his suspicion that the Purgatory souls hadn't simply managed to break free from his control. Not that he'd really had any true control given what they'd managed to twist him into.
The shame was practically unbearable, but Castiel forced himself to bear it anyway. It was the least that he could do and would be merely a small part of his multifaceted penance.
But what to do now?
The shade muttered nonsensical words and stretched beside him, rubbing its face along his thigh. Castiel bit his lip and did his best not to react to the sensuality of the situation. His vessel, however, betrayed him and he felt his cock fill with blood and begin to tumescence. He was not a slave to the desires of the flesh though and did his best to ignore it. His hand, though, seemed to have a mind of its own and reached up to pet the shade's hair. It seemed to help though as the shade made a purring sound and settled down once more, basking in the attention.
/
The farmhouse was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but fields and fields as far as the human eye could see. Knowing exactly who it was that had taken up residence here, though, made Castiel careful. He'd known Bobby Singer far too well to underestimate the hunter and he doubted that the man had gotten any less vigilant in the past year. He strongly suspected that it was rather the opposite if anything.
The Enochian sigils and traps were cleverly hidden, worked into the rural surroundings and would have been easy to miss for anyone less cautious and knowledgeable than him. Luckily for Castiel, he had taught Robert most of what the hunter knew about warding against angels. Also, and again luckily for himself, he seemed to have learned many a new trick himself and he easily dismantled all of the sigils and protections that stood in his way, taking care to create as narrow a path through the defenses as possible. He didn't know if any of his brothers or sisters were also hunting Sam and Bobby (perhaps even on his own orders) and he didn't want to leave them open and vulnerable to attack.
Regardless of the outcome of this meeting, Castiel planned on recreating all of the protections he now dismantled. Dean would never forgive him if he allowed any further harm to come to his human's brother and substitute father figure. He could only hope that his hunter would ever be himself enough again in order to be able to give or refuse that forgiveness, but at present he was counting on it for his own sanity.
The gunshot came without warning, ripping open part of his vessel's chest in what Castiel could only assume was some futile and desperate attempt to defy reality. Bobby had been present after all the first time that Dean had tried this and had even partaken in the vain attempt. It was one of the things that he'd always admired about his former charge even as it had often exasperated him; his hunter's stubborn refusal to either give up or leave any stone unturned.
"I mean you no harm, Bobby," Castiel tried, doubting it would work. His reply was another salt round to the chest. "Nor do I mean Sam any harm. I just wish to speak with you."
Castiel was expecting to be shot once more, but no more bullets were forthcoming and he continued his task, moving ever closer to the farmhouse itself. Just as he was dismantling the last protections blocking his way, the door opened and Bobby stepped outside. Impressively the hunter wasn't carrying his shot gun and Castiel raised his hands away from his body to indicate that he wasn't armed either.
"What the hell do you want if you're not here to wipe us out of existence?" Bobby snarled, defiance in every line of his body.
"I simply wish to speak with you," Castiel repeated.
Bobby snorted. "Yeah and I'm going to put on a tutu and take up ballet."
The image that conjured up was disturbing and Castiel tilted his head to the side. "I do not think you would do well in that occupation."
It wasn't until the hunter stared at him, clearly baffled that Castiel realized Bobby had not been serious and he sighed. He was not sure that he would ever understand the human penchant for sarcasm. It was most confusing. Why didn't they simply say what they meant instead of cloaking it all in allusions and bizarre metaphors?
"You're different," Bobby stated, clearly unable to figure out what was going on.
"Yes, I am."
"How?"
"I don't know. I just woke up on the floor in the Maldives and but for one memory I have no recollection of the past year."
"You have no- Are you saying that you've got amnesia?"
"Yes."
Bobby ran a hand over his beard in a gesture Castiel knew well and it assuaged him to finally see something so familiar in someone he knew well. Almost everything that the shade did was wrong and when it did do something that Dean would have done it only served to underscore just how much it wasn't his beloved hunter. He hadn't realized how much he'd come to love and depend on the friendship and camaraderie that he'd had with Dean, Sam and Bobby until it had been lost to him. It was humbling to learn that he was as much susceptible to what he'd always viewed as the human failing of not being able to see what it was that he had until it was too late.
Castiel could only hope it wasn't all lost to him forever, though if that was to be his punishment then he'd simply have to bear it as best he could.
"How the hell do angels get amnesia?" Bobby demanded.
"I do not know. It has never occurred before that I am aware of," Castiel explained.
"So what happened to you?"
"I do not know, I can't remember."
"Christ," Bobby muttered, beginning to pace and Castiel felt the odd urge to copy his behavior but resisted. "What's the last thing you remember then?"
"Other than my one memory? Opening the door to Purgatory."
"Convenient."
"No, it is not. I do not know what I have done so cannot properly repent for my actions."
"Repent?" Bobby exclaimed, whirling around to face him. "Repent?"
"Yes, I am aware that what I did while under the influence of the Purgatory souls was..."
"Abominable? Atrocious? Inexcusable?"
The last word in particular made Castiel flinch, but he forced himself to meet the hunter's eyes as he replied. "As you say."
Bobby frowned, stepping closer to look at him. Castiel couldn't quite figure out what the hunter was thinking but he knew enough to know that something had changed. Bobby was more pensive than before and appeared to be more open to what he was saying. He could only assume that his current behavior was so far removed from how he had acted before as to lend some credence to his words.
"You really have changed, this isn't just some trick," Bobby muttered. "You didn't have the patience for something as drawn out and humbling as this before."
"No, he was far too self-righteous," Castiel agreed, his throat feeling strangely peculiar and making speech more difficult than it should be.
The hunter snorted. "That's one way of putting it. Okay, so if you're yourself again, then I assume that the souls are gone?"
"Yes, but I do not know what happened to them or where they are now."
"Balls!"
The cursing surprised Castiel, but he had observed humans using it as an outlet before and as far as coping mechanisms went it was one of the less destructive ones. Definitely better than resorting to alcohol as he unfortunately knew from personal experience. Either way, he knew better than to try and interfere as it was better if the hunter got it out of his system before continuing.
"So let me get this straight, you don't know all the horrible shit you pulled this past year, you don't know what happened to you and you don't know where the souls are. Is that right or did I miss anything?" Bobby thundered.
"No, that is accurate."
"Great, so what the hell are you doing here?"
"I-" Castiel began, his voice cutting out on him unexpectedly. Why was this happening to him? He didn't understand it. Was there something wrong with his vessel? "I require your help, Bobby."
"You what? How dare you, you no good back stabbing bastard?" Bobby roared, exploding forwards in a rush of angry movements. "First you lie and mislead us, then you kill Eleanor, break Sam's wall, declare yourself God, take Dean and wreak havoc on the world and now you dare come groveling back to me and ask me for my help? You've got a lot of nerve, Castiel."
"I know. There is much that I must repent for, but this is not for me. It's Dean, Bobby, he-"
The rest of his words were cut off as Bobby surged forwards and grabbed hold of his clothes, attempting to shake him. Castiel forced his vessel to relax and become as loose as a human so the hunter didn't hurt himself. He couldn't help but respect and admire the reaction, knowing exactly the kind of love and devotion that drove it. Bobby and Dean had always been close.
"What the fuck did you do to him?" Bobby demanded, voice low but all the more deadly for it. "I swear if you've hurt him, I'll- I'll find something to do to you that you'll never forget!"
Castiel's eyes dropped at the accusation, unable to face the hunter knowing that what he'd done was infinitely worse than anything that Bobby could possibly even think of on his own.
"No," Bobby denied, releasing him and stepping back. "No, you didn't- What did you do, Castiel?"
"I... there aren't words for what I did to him. All that Alastair did in Hell was kindness in comparison and I will gladly submit to whatever punishment you deem fit later."
"Later, you saying it can be reversed?"
"Maybe, though I will warn you now that Dean may never be the same again," Castiel answered truthfully. "What I am attempting has never been done before as it has never been necessary before. I don't know if it'll work even if we can find all of the shards."
"Shards, what shards?"
Castiel's shoulders hunched in some instinctual attempt to make himself as small as possible, as if that would help make what he was about to say less real somehow. "Of his soul."
"Of his-"
Horror and disbelief crossed Bobby's face as the hunter grasped precisely what he was trying to say and Castiel flinched once more but was completely unable to tear his eyes away. Bobby backed away from him as if that would make what he'd said any less atrocious.
"You tore apart his soul?" Bobby demanded.
"I-"
"No, get out of my sight!"
"Bobby-"
"Now. Get the hell out of my sight!"
Uncertain, Castiel hesitated for moment but then saw that he wouldn't be able to change the hunter's mind and he stayed just long enough to snap all of Bobby's protections back into place before leaving.
/
Not wanting to return to the Maldives so soon, Castiel flew to Lawrence, Kansas instead. He took care to cloak his presence and appeared at the edge of a forest. His own cowardice grated, but he had no wish to see a repeat of last night's fiasco so soon. Just the memory of the shade's confused and rejected face after he'd spurred its sexual advances was enough to pain him. The soul shard couldn't understand why he'd refused it and had worried that it had done something wrong to either upset or anger him.
Castiel was merely thankful that the shade hadn't realized how much its attention had affected him, because soul shard or not, it still looked like his precious human. That had only served to underscore how much it wasn't his hunter though and the pain of that thought was still all consuming. He didn't think that he'd ever longed for anything as much as he did for Dean right now. He'd give up his continued existence if it meant restoring his former charge. He knew better than to believe in such easy solutions though and even if there were a chance of it he'd be hesitant to try it, simply because if it failed then there'd be no one left to try anything else and Dean would truly be lost forever.
Not even wanting to think of the mere possibility, Castiel turned his attention to his surroundings. The bonfire the reporter had mentioned was easy to spot even in the daylight as it was so massive. Also easy to see were the sea of people camped out all around it, hardly even leaving room for the road that the trucks used to approach the area next to the bonfire that was piled high with books of all shapes, sizes and colors. He winced as he thought of what types of books he might have deemed unacceptable while high on the Purgatory souls.
Castiel wasn't sure if he should remain hidden or fly over there, reveal himself and order them to stop and douse the flames at once. Without knowing what he'd been like before and just what it was that he'd said to them in the first place, though, he didn't think it was a good idea. But what to do instead? He supposed that he could simply douse the bonfire himself, but then there would be nothing to prevent them from simply reigniting it once more somewhere else. Unless...
The idea came to him suddenly and Castiel smiled. Given that most of those present here were true believers of some form or another, providing them with something that they would view as a divine sign would surely be enough to keep them from merely restarting the bonfire. The deception rankled, but he couldn't see any other way out of the situation and he didn't wish for any important religious texts to be lost forever.
Half closing his eyes in concentration, Castiel reached out with his Grace toward the fire and caused it to leap several feet higher in an unnaturally fierce blaze. He kept it that way for a few moments to ensure that he had everyone's attention before beginning to alter the shape of the flames. Carefully he molded them into what he most commonly came across as the Christian interpretation of what his Father looked like. He kept it there for a few minutes, feeling as much as hearing the shock that rippled through the crowd, before he doused the flames entirely and ensured that they wouldn't start up once more without the entire bonfire being moved to a new location. Hopefully that would be enough to start making people question his godhood. It might be naive of him, but he sincerely hoped that along with his abrupt disappearance, something like this could make people go back to believing in his Father.
It was as he stayed to watch that Castiel suddenly felt it, a brief flicker of Light that would otherwise be easy to miss had he not felt the exact same thing just yesterday.
It was another shard of Dean's soul and it was nearby.
Instantly Castiel abandoned his interest in the shocked worshippers and turned all of his attention outwards, desperately seeking the location of the precious soul shard. It took longer than he would have liked (even making him worry that he wouldn't find it again), but it finally flickered across his awareness once more and he followed it blindly. The shard led him to a quiet residential street, at first glance indistinguishable from any other human street he'd seen before, but that only lasted as long as he didn't dig deeper.
The house he'd been drawn to looked vaguely familiar and Castiel frowned as a wave of joy, love, terror, horror washed over him out of nowhere. He was soon distracted from it though by the smaller of the two trees growing in the front garden. It was young, hardly older than a year, but it wasn't its physical appearance that captured his attention, but rather its very essence. The sapling fairly glowed to his angelic eyes with the brightness of a very familiar human soul. He couldn't help but smile at the fact that even shredded as it was, a small shard of Dean's soul was still able to not only touch the life around it, but to help it grow as well.
Reverently, Castiel approached the sapling and knelt before it. He could feel the soul shard strongly now and he began digging in the dirt, taking care not to damage any of the fragile roots the tree had sprouted. He would hate to injure anything that any part of Dean had deemed worthy of helping. This time he found a small painted box that hadn't, amazingly enough, broken. If the soul shard had influenced the tree so heavily despite being thus contained, then he couldn't help but wonder at what it would have achieved had it been directly exposed to the sapling's roots.
It was a humbling thought, especially considering the fact this was but a mere shard of Dean's soul.
With his precious burden held close, Castiel pushed the soil back into place before he flew back to the Maldives and the shade. Surprisingly he found it sleeping on one of the sun bed lounges, the drops of water drying on its skin the only sign that it hadn't just been lying there all day. Didn't the shade do anything much other than eat and sleep? Well, outside of trying to entice him into having sex with it? It was a disturbing thought and made him realize that he'd yet to rediscover the shard that held the true essence or fire of his hunter. There was no way that Dean would be this docile or lazy normally.
The thought that he might have specifically targeted that part of his human's soul first made Castiel feel ill and he seated himself on the edge of the sun bed lounge when his feet felt unsteady. Apparently he would have to become used to having his emotions affecting his physical being, or at least that of his vessel. Unable to help himself, he reached up and brushed a lock of hair off the shade's face, enthralled as it made a contented little noise, rubbing its face into the soft pillow before settling once more.
Not wanting to cause it anymore upset than strictly necessary, Castiel decided not to wake it before commencing the restoration process. He braced himself and then opened the box to remove the soul shard inside of it. It glowed brightly and pulsed with pleasure as he picked it up. Why would it do that? Why didn't it hate or fear him as any sane soul shard would when encountering the one who'd shredded it? It made no sense but then neither had Dean most of the time so perhaps this was a good sign.
Castiel laughed humorlessly. Only his former charge could make such an apparent contradiction into a good omen.
The sense of loss and bereavement rose swiftly within him and he tightened his hold on the soul shard instinctively. He missed Dean more than he could ever have imagined missing someone and it was like there was a hole in his Grace where something vital and irreplaceable had been ripped from him forever. And the worst thing was that he knew that he'd been the one to do so.
The shard in Castiel's hands continued to pulse, its Light and power skittering along the edges of his Grace as if it sought to comfort and console him. Part of him wanted to take it within himself and keep it safe forever instead of returning it to the shade where it would be helpless and would only scar together with the other soul shards instead of seamlessly reuniting with them as it really ought to be. He resisted the temptation though, knowing that he wasn't worthy of it regardless of all else.
With the shade unconscious, it was easier for Castiel to push his arm into Dean's body and he was already in before it woke. As before the shard was attracted to the soul shards the shade already possessed and he was silently thankful that he'd managed to find another shard that fit with what he already had instead of one that wouldn't be able to reconnect. He wasn't sure what would transpire then as there was absolutely no precedent for anything even remotely like this situation.
Now that he already knew what to do, Castiel was able to complete the process faster though he was still sucked into a memory that seemed to spring up from where the soul shards scarred together. He tried to resist it, not sure if he could handle knowing so much more of what he'd done, not to mention that he doubted that Dean would approve of his having so intimate a knowledge of what his hunter thought and felt, but it was futile. All that his struggles accomplished was that the first part of the memory (which seemed to consist of the time immediately following his acquisition of the Purgatory souls and he saw himself carelessly kill Raphael and confront his friends with a shocking ultimatum) was more like a distant and poorly filmed movie than a complete experience before it caught him up in its undertow and he was swept along for the ride as his human had experienced it.
"I'm your new God, a better one. So you will bow down and profess your love onto me, your Lord, or I shall destroy you," Castiel declared coldly.
Dean could only stare at his friend in disbelief and horror, completely unable to believe what he was hearing. No, this couldn't be happening, not to Cas, not to the angel who'd stood by his side and defied his brothers and sisters and even Heaven itself in order to do what was right and just. It just couldn't be.
"Cas," Dean began, his throat closing up on him as his emotions rose in a veritable maelstrom inside of him that he couldn't even hope to cope with, let alone understand.
God dammit, but he'd told Castiel that this would happen! He'd told the stupid idiot and yet his friend had gone and done it anyway. Why did no one ever listen to him when he warned them about what it was that they were doing? It wasn't like he didn't have a good track record at seeing bad shit like this coming a mile off. So why? And why did he have to keep losing the people that he loved the most?
Before he could even think of anything else, Castiel was right in front of him and Dean took an involuntary step back. Though he'd never admit it to anyone, he was glad that he had as he could hardly stand to be near it, the ruin of his first and only true friend. Looking into Cas' eyes just now was like looking into a soulless abyss and the horrific irony of that wasn't lost on him, not in the slightest. Only his angel could fill himself up to the brim with souls and become a creature that didn't even know what it meant to have one.
"You will bow down before me and profess your love to me," Castiel declared.
"No, we won't," Sam retorted. "You know us better than that, Cas. You know Dean better than that."
"Shut up, Sam," Dean hissed, not at all liking the way that the former angel looked at his brother. "Cas, man, come on, we-"
"You will address me with the proper respect that I deserve as your new God," Castiel interrupted. "Or you will suffer the consequences."
With a small gesture, Castiel sent Sam crashing to his knees with a howl.
"Sam!" Dean cried out, trying to rush to his brother's side only to find his way blocked by his former friend. "What the hell did you just do to him?"
"I caused more of his wall to collapse, bringing more memories from his time in the cage with Lucifer and Michael to the surface."
"More of his wall?"
"I might have been less than entirely honest before."
Dean snorted. "Ya think? You'd promised to restore his wall after you got your precious souls and I don't see that happening either."
"No, I promised to restore the wall if you didn't interfere. You did."
"Not like it stopped you."
"It's the principle of the thing."
"The principle of the thing?" Dean requested in disbelief. "Are you even hearing yourself, Cas? You'd never have said that before. Hell, you wouldn't even have known the expression. The souls are clearly changing you, you've got to see that!"
"Of course they are changing me, Dean. I now have the knowledge and power of countless beings within me."
"Yeah, countless evil beings. They were in Purgatory for a reason!"
"I control the souls, they do not control me."
"You sure about that?"
This time Dean was able to resist the temptation to back up when Castiel stepped closer to him, all but obliterating what little space remained between them. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end with the sheer power that rolled off the former angel, electrifying the air all around them and causing his every instinct to scream at him that he needed to get out of here. Now.
"Look at you," Castiel mused. "So small and insignificant and yet so willful and feisty. But make no mistake, Dean, you can fight all that you want, but in the end you will bow down before me and do so gladly."
The sheer conviction in those words made Dean swallow. Together with the close proximity of Castiel, his mind and body were at war with one another. He'd always been attracted to the former angel, since even before he'd come to even like Castiel, and that had only grown when they'd gotten to know each other and grown even closer. If it hadn't been for the former angel's terrified expression at the brothel, he'd have made a move long ago. Instead he'd been good and had kept his hands to himself but it was always hard to do when they stood as close as this. It was a first for even him, though, to be turned on by someone who was also scaring the crap out of him.
"I thought you said that you'd be a better God," Bobby challenged, interrupting their staring contest and Dean looked away gladly, unable to meet that dead gaze any longer.
He hated looking at his friend and not seeing his Cas looking back out at him. How had things come to this?
"I am a better God," Castiel replied, not taking his eyes off of Dean.
"Then how about you prove it with some mercy?"
That made Castiel turn away from him to face Bobby who was hunched by Sam's side, and Dean sighed with relief.
"I am being merciful by not killing you all for your attempt to stop me and Sam's attempt to kill me. The only reason that you or Sam are still alive, Robert Singer, is because Dean would resist learning his place even more if I were to kill you."
"What?" Dean exclaimed, once more reduced to horror and disbelief.
"Like I said, I will see you kneeling before me, professing your love unto me," Castiel reiterated.
Then, before Dean could even think of responding to that, there were two fingers on his forehead and the world dissolved around him accompanied by Bobby's frantic cries.
Somehow this particular memory had far more power to shake Castiel than any of the previous ones had. Between his own horror and dismay at it and the shade's reaction to having another shard of its soul so abruptly returned to it, understanding was slow to come to him but eventually it did. This particular memory had taken place almost immediately after he'd gained the Purgatory souls and yet already he'd been swallowed up and almost lost in their influence and evil. Everything that his beloved human had said was right, he'd just been far too drunk on power and Darkness to see the truth of it.
The knowledge of how much he'd hurt and betrayed Dean's trust stung Castiel more than he cared to think too deeply about and instead he focused his attention on soothing the shade. He still couldn't understand why it kept coming to him for comfort and protection after all that he'd done to it, but he wasn't about to refuse the shade this. No, he'd get it whatever made it feel better so long as he didn't think it wanted anything harmful to either itself or others.
Or was anything that Castiel knew that Dean would never want. He would not pander to the perverted needs that he'd instilled into the shade and made it think were its own.
Eventually the soul shard inside the shade stopped trembling so much and Castiel ceased his attentions, not wanting for them to turn into something else inadvertently. He had seen enough between Dean's fractured memories and the shade's earlier licentious behavior to know that he'd broken and trained the soul shard to twist most situations into sexual ones.
"Why don't you take another swim?" Castiel suggested, hoping to distract it. "Some more exercise will do you good."
"As you wish, m- Cas."
Castiel resisted the human urge to sigh at the way that the shade managed to turn his nickname into a title. With the way that it said the moniker the shade might as well have used the words 'my Lord,' but he supposed that he had to be thankful it was using his name at all. Part of him had hoped that in once more possessing memories like the one that he'd witnessed only a short while ago, that more of Dean might emerge, but really he should have known better. Having the memories meant nothing if the part of the soul that was the true essence, or spark, was still missing. That particular shard (and he desperately hoped that it was still in one piece somewhere and not torn to shreds like all of the rest of Dean's soul) was the key and without it, the rest of the soul shards would only ever be reflected echoes of Dean, hopelessly distorted and but poor, imperfect imitations of the real thing.
The splash of water brought Castiel back to the present and he turned to look at the shade cutting through the crystal clear water with strong, clean strokes. He couldn't help but wonder if it got any enjoyment from the act. He knew that many humans greatly enjoyed spending time in the water and he wondered if that harkened back to their time in their mother's womb. Some subconscious memory perhaps?
"Uh, Castiel, can you hear me?" Bobby's voice suddenly echoed in his head.
It startled Castiel, having not expected anyone to call out or pray to him. Once he started paying attention, however, he realized that there were many voices calling his name. Many human voices. He hadn't noticed them before as they were a low background noise much as his brothers' and sisters' voices had once been, before he'd started to fall and so it had felt both familiar and normal to him. Now, though, he could easily tell the difference and was amazed that he hadn't noticed it before.
"I've thought about what you said and while I'm still furious with you, I'll hear you out," Bobby continued. "Not for you mind, but for Dean's sake. So get your feathered ass back here."
Hope and relief rose swiftly within Castiel and he took off at once, not wanting to risk the hunter changing his mind. Bobby was waiting for him on the porch and he made swift work of the protections and sigils that he'd already dismantled once before, taking care to recreate them behind him as he went.
"Why do I even bother?" Bobby grumbled, shaking his head as he watched. "Clearly it's all useless."
"Just to me, I am sure that they would keep out anyone else you didn't want finding you," Castiel replied.
"They weren't meant for anyone else."
The pointed comment made Castiel flinch and pause. "I know and I'm sorry."
"Were they ever effective against you or could you always circumnavigate them?"
"No, when I taught them to you they would have worked on me."
"So what changed?"
"I don't know."
"Of course not."
Even Castiel could easily detect the disbelief in that statement but he let it slide. It was only what he deserved after all that he'd done and if it would allow him to better help save Dean, then he'd put up with it without protest.
"Well you weren't lying about having changed, that's for sure," Bobby said. "No point in staying out here then. Besides, I think I need alcohol for this conversation and lots of it."
Dutifully, Castiel followed the hunter into the farmhouse, casting curious glances about as they walked to the kitchen. There wasn't much about the place to indicate that either Bobby or Sam had spent any significant time here so either they were moving from place to place in a desperate- and futile- attempt to stay one step ahead of his past self, or they'd taken care not to settle down too much. He was not surprised when he wasn't offered a drink when the hunter poured himself one.
"Okay, start at the beginning and leave nothing out," Bobby ordered.
Part 3