Title: Paved with good intentions
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aviss
Characters: Castiel, Dean, pre-slash
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst, drama
Spoilers: up to episode 4.21
Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously.
Summary: Even after everything has gone to hell there can be some hope.
Word Count: ~3.900
Notes: Right so it took me what, two days to go from watching the 4th season to write fic for it. A record for me.
Paved With Good Intentions
If you Fall for him, who's going to get him out of Hell this time? Who's going to get you both out?
…
He has to know.
Dean knows he's going to regret it, but one quick look at the wrecked Honeymoon suit and the closed door, not only to the room but also to his life as he's known it, assures him one more thing to regret isn't going to make a difference.
"Castiel!" he shouts at the top of his lungs, "Castiel, you bastard! Come here!"
He calls the name over and over again in his head. The last person he wants to see right now, the one he has to. Here, in the middle of this shitty room in this tasteful, expensive hotel it's all so clear. It was never Ruby, it couldn't be her.
That leaves only one name in a very short list of candidates.
He should have known.
"I am not at your beck and call, Dean Winchester," Castiel's cold voice tells him he isn't alone in the room anymore. Dean sits up carefully, trying not to get his hands sliced with the pieces of broken glass. He doesn't want to have to explain the blood stains to Bobby on top of everything else.
"You've come, haven't you?" Dean says snidely, glaring at him. Castiel is standing ramrod straight, staring back at Dean with something that looks remarkably closer to distaste.
Dean sighs, one step forward two steps back with this one.
"Is there something you want from me, Dean?" Castiel asks after a while, the silence stretching between them awkwardly.
Dean watches him through narrowed eyes; Castiel, the fucking breathing statue. He had thought before Castiel wasn't that bad, he was learning, he was becoming less of a dick and more human. That was before, now Castiel seems to be every bit of a dick as he was at the beginning. It pisses Dean off to no end.
"I was just wondering how a chained man can get away from a demon-proof room, one Bobby had guarded himself," Dean says in a conversational tone, reigning in his seething anger. He's just screwed everything between his brother and him, staying a bit calmer for this one is a must. It's not going to be easy, though. "And I remembered it happened just after my little chat with you. Remember my friend Alastair? He also managed to break free from the seals. This happens a lot around you?"
Castiel looks at him with the same cold expression, his gaze icy and disinterested. "I had no part in Alastair's release," he finally says, not denying the other part of the accusation. Dick. "Uriel's deceit was something I had not foreseen."
"I see you are admitting freeing Sam," Dean says, the faint hold he retains on his temper fraying quicker than he expected.
"I have no reason to deny it, I had orders," Castiel says simply.
"You had orders?" Dean repeats slowly, enunciating each word as if it were said in an alien language. One he doesn’t properly understand. He feels like that speaking to Castiel most of the time.
"Yes. He still has a part to play in this war."
"And you didn't stop to consider we had him there for a reason?"
"You were killing him," Castiel says repeating the same words Bobby already said to Dean. They have the same effect, none.
"He's better off dead," Dean says shaking his head. He's choking on his fury, the words so strained it's a miracle they are heard in the room, and knows he's going to lose it soon. "You said that yourself, he's turning into something I would want to hunt."
Castiel still stares at him; unmoving, unmoved. It's like arguing with a fucking concrete wall.
Dean just stares back at him, hatred like he hasn't felt before burning his stomach. He has sworn loyalty to this? Bobby was right, he's a fool.
"If it's God's will," Castiel finally says after a minute and Dean sees red. He moves on instinct, his body reacting before he can tell it to stay put, crossing the distance between him and Castiel in one powerful lunge.
He feels his punch connect and winces at the pain in his hand, the bones crunching loudly. It's not just like arguing with a concrete wall, it's also like trying to hit one. Castiel shows no more reaction than a distasteful look at him.
All the fight leaves him in a rush, the futility of it all getting to him. Dean presses his sore hand against his lip, shoulders slumping.
"Fuck you and your holy war, I'm out of here," he says wearily, turning his back to Castiel and leaving the room.
…
"It's time."
Dean startles at the sudden appearance of Castiel next to him, his hold on the steering wheel slipping and the Impala swerving wildly. He has a moment to be grateful there is nobody else on the road; he doesn’t need a car crash on top of everything else, though it would be the perfect ending for the worst day of his life.
"What are you doing here, Castiel?" he asks angrily. It's been just a couple of hours since he left the hotel room and he's been driving around just to try to calm down. He was almost there, but now he's feeling ready to kill again. And Castiel has only been there for a second.
"It's time," Castiel repeats as if Dean hasn't spoken. "All the pieces are in place, you have to stop Lilith breaking the last seal."
Dean shots him an incredulous look, turning his attention back to the road quickly. "I told you, fuck you and your war, and I mean it," Dean says clenching his jaw, irritation and hot, seething anger burning in his veins. "I'm not doing it."
"You are, you swore," Castiel says, his brow furrowing momentarily only to be smoothed again in that non-expression Dean hates so much.
"I don't care; you lied, I don't have to keep my word either."
He pulls over on a side of the road, stopping the car and getting out, Castiel is already standing at the other side of the Impala, waiting for him.
"You have to, you have no choice."
Dean laughs harshly, "I have a choice, you lied to me when you said Sam would be spared if I enlisted to your insane army. You freed Sam, I quit."
Castiel is looking at him intently now, the line furrowing his brow back. He looks angry and puzzled at the same time. With a slight shake of his head, it's gone.
"We can send you back to Hell," he says and Dean's blood runs cold at the threat but it doesn’t stop him. It's not the first time he's heard it.
"You won't, you need me."
"You are of no use if you disobey now, Dean," Castiel says and the warning is clear.
"What the fuck did the do to you in Heaven, Castiel?" he asks after a moment of silence, wondering. Castiel had threatened him before, that's nothing new, but even at the beginning he wasn't this much of a dick.
A fleeting expression passes through Castiel's face, too quick for Dean to recognize it, but it's a good sign. At least he can still feel something.
"That's nothing of your concern, Dean," Castiel says shortly.
"Yes it is," Dean insists, "something was going on, something that frightened you enough to seek me out in my sleep. And next I know they've dragged your ass kicking and screaming back to Heaven. I don't know what they did to you there, but you returned being as much of a bastard as Uriel was."
This time the expression in Castiel's face is easy to read, he flinches. "They didn't do anything Dean, I did it to myself. They just opened my eyes," he says, his voice laden with finality.
"Opened your eyes?"
Castiel turns to look away, his eyes fixed somewhere in the distance. "Yes, I was too close, I couldn't see."
He's talking in riddles and Dean doesn’t understand a thing, he just knows whatever it was they did to Castiel when they took him back to Heaven have to be bad. It's a wonder he has time to worry about this now the world is ending.
"Couldn't see what?"
Castiel looks at him, the intensity of his gaze something that has not changed. It makes Dean feel uncomfortable having those eyes focused on him. "I was thinking of disobeying, I was close to Falling."
He sees now. "So they took you back and brainwashed you to make you the perfect little soldier again?"
"You don't know what you're talking about, Dean Winchester," Castiel says coldly, "Heaven doesn’t need to explain the plan either to you or to me. Now let's go, we have a job to do."
"No," Dean says, stubbornly refusing to move.
"No?" Castiel looks at him incredulously, as if no one has refused him before. Dean knows that's not the truth, he remembers not doing what Castiel wanted at least once before.
"No, I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what happened to turn you into this machine--this hammer--again," Dean says crossing his arms over his chest to empathise his point.
"I don't have to tell you anything," Castiel repeats, his brow furrowing in annoyance.
"It's only fair you tell me why you screwed me over with this."
That earns him a glare, something he hasn't seen in Castiel's face before. Dean can tell he's angry, which is good, at least he's not controlling his emotions as tightly as before. There might still be hope for him.
"Fair?" Castiel says harshly, "What do you know about fair? I pulled you out of Hell and you're slowly dragging me down to it, how is that fair?"
"What are you talking about?"
"These feelings, these emotions--I don't need them." Dean can see now Castiel has not changed that much, not really. He's just gotten better at hiding it, but the feelings are there, the doubts are there. "I never doubted my orders before; I never considered rebelling until you started talking about fair and unfair. I am an Angel of the Lord, I have to obey."
"Even if the orders don't make sense?"
It's easier now to read the expression in Castiel's eyes, it's clearly pain. What those orders could be Dean doesn't know and he wishes for the umpteenth time he wasn't involved with fucking Heaven and Hell. He doesn’t know which one is more of a pain in the ass.
"I don't have to question their sense, I have to follow them," and strangely Castiel sounds more like he's saying that to himself than to Dean. He opens his mouth to say something else but Castiel stops him with a look. "We'll have this conversation, if you so wish, after we stop the last seal breaking. We have to go, now."
Dean wants to say not, he's still not satisfied, he's still angry. But he knows Castiel is right, they have to go.
They have an Apocalypse to stop and Dean has a brother to save.
…
"Are you sure this is the place?" Dean asks for the third time, staring at the empty warehouse just ahead of them.
He's not completely convinced of what they're doing, and it feels weird to be there without Sam, but if the last seal is being broken there, they Sam will come sooner or later.
Dean just wishes they can still fix things after the bitch is dead, hopefully at Dean's hand.
"Yes," Castiel says tilting his head as if listening to something. "She is inside, there isn't much time."
"But Sam--"
"He's coming."
…
It's all going wrong, Dean can feel it.
Lilith hasn't paid much attention to him apart from assessing he is alone and immobilizing him, Castiel too busy fighting off her minions to be of much help to him now.
Where the fuck are the hordes of Heaven now he needs them? They can't be the only ones with orders to stop this.
He has a bad feeling about this, and it only increases at noticing the smug smile on her face when the door opens again and his brother enters the room, Ruby dutifully following him.
Sam shots him a quick look and then focuses his attention in Lilith, who is not chanting, or sacrificing or really doing anything but smirking at them.
"Lilith," Sam says shortly, walking up to her.
"Sam Winchester, I was afraid you would not come," Lilith says, her childish voice grating against every single nerve in Dean's body. He wants to shout to Sam to run away, leave. He has a very bad feeling.
It's when Lilith starts the chanting that Dean realized just how screwed they are, they were waiting for them, for Sam.
"Sam, run!" he shouts but his brother is paying no attention to him.
"You die now, Lilith," Sam says stopping a few feet away from her.
Lilith laughs, the chanting stopping the moment Sam raises his hand, her pretty innocent face shining with triumph while her mouth opens in a screams.
"Sam, No!" Dean shouts, falling to the ground and scrambling to his feet to try to stop his brother. He looks at Castiel for help but can't see him, the demons he has been fighting probably overwhelming him by sheer numbers.
And still Heaven has not come.
Dean stares at his brother, hand held up in front of him while Lilith screams; a long high pitched scream of agony.
"Sam, stop!" he hears himself shouting, his movements too slow to stop what he can see coming. How could he have been so blind?
Sam turns to look at him, his eyes flashing first yellow and then red, his face twisting in horrified realization.
"Dean, help me!" Sam cries before he crumples to the ground, unconscious.
"Castiel, come here and give me a hand with my brother, we have to get him out of here!" Dean turns to where he has seen the angel standing last, fighting off Lilith's minions. Castiel is looking at him wide eyed, shaking his head.
Around them the world is shifting, the earth shakes and there is a low rumbling noise filling the entire room, as if the building is trying to fold into itself. Outside he can hear screams and shouts and the sound of chaos rising.
"It's too late, Dean," he says, shoulders hunching and an infinite sadness shinning in his eyes.
"No! Sam stopped Lilith, the bitch never got to break the last seal!" Dean insists, but the words taste wrong in his mouth.
"She did."
Dean knows is the truth, he has seen it even if he doesn't want to believe it.
"You let him go, Castiel," Dean says accusingly.
"I had orders, I didn't know--"
"You're wrong. We stopped it. We did," he says turning back to his unconscious brother with a last glare at Castiel.
Sam opens his eyes just as Dean is leaning over him, and they are not human.
…
It's over.
Everything's over; not only the war but also the world.
They've lost. They've lost spectacularly, and one look at the inhuman eyes on the familiar and loved face of what used to be his brother is enough to confirm it.
Dean closes his eyes and waits for the final blow to fall. At least he will have the honour to be killed by Sam--not, not Sam. Not anymore.
"What was that you called me before, Brother?" Sam says, the scorn in his voice making Dean wince. "What was it?"
He opens his eyes and forces himself to stare at Lucifer's eyes. He won't fool himself thinking it's Sam, there's nothing left of his brother there.
"A monster," he says through gritted teeth, the word tasting sour in his mouth. If only he could have taken it back in that fucking hotel room. But now it's too late, now it's also the truth.
He sees a movement on the corner of his eye, the place where Castiel has fallen is shimmering, a faint light getting brighter by the second.
Nobody else appears to have noticed.
"Do you want me to kill him?" Ruby, the fucking bitch, asks eagerly. It's easy to see she's going to enjoy that very much, she's itching for it.
"No," Lucifer says, his smile making Dean's blood curl. "I'll take him back to Hell myself; I heard his playmates are missing him."
He doesn't even have the time to blink before the white light explodes inside the room and something hits him like a fucking freighter, the impact enough to finally knock him out.
The last thing he hears before darkness rushes to get him are Lucifer's screams of rage.
…
"You should have left me there," Dean snaps angrily once the world stops moving. Fucking angelic mojo, it might be a fast way to travel but it makes him feel sick--sicker.
He's in such a bad state after the fight it's a miracle he's still standing. It's not that what makes him feel like he wants to throw up.
Castiel is in even worse condition than Dean, but that doesn't make him feel even one shred of pity for the bastard. Who cares about the annoying angel with everything else going on?
"I couldn't."
"Yes, you could," Dean says narrowing his eyes. "I failed, we're all dead. It won't make a difference now."
Castiel shakes his head sadly. "We can still fight."
"No," Dean says, his voice choked with loathing and disgust. He's not sure if at himself or the angel. Right now it's pretty much the same thing. "I can't."
He turns and leaves, not wanting to hear whatever Castiel wants to tell him.
…
Dean opens his eyes at the sound of the door opening, not making any movement to get up from the bed. He has not protected the motel room where he's resting for the day, all his guns and tools still in the Impala.
If they want him he's not even going to resist, there's no point.
Not anymore.
He lost. They lost, and it's all his fault.
If Heaven wants to toss him back to Hell and have every single demon there make him his bitch, Dean is going to just skip the lube and take it like a man.
Castiel enters the room silently and stops mere inches from Dean's bed.
"Came to take me back to Hell, Cas?" Dean says wearily. He doesn't have the energy to taunt Castiel; he doesn't have the energy for anything actually.
"No."
Dean stares at him, there's something different about Castiel and he can't put his finger on it.
"What are you doing here? I'm of no use to you."
"You're wrong, Dean," Castiel says in the same serious voice, his too intense gaze fixed on Dean. It's making him uncomfortable, and with a jolt he realizes it's the first thing he has felt since everything went to Hell.
Literally.
"Am I?" Dean sits up, scowling. "What do you think I can do? We've lost, I lost! I had it in front of me all the fucking time and was too blind to see it, and now he's walking the Earth again thanks to me. And to you, by the way," he can't help adding nastily. "If you had not interfered and freed him from Bobby's room this wouldn't be happening now."
Castiel's expression doesn't change, as if Dean's barbs aren't hitting the target. Maybe they're not; the self-righteous bastard probably thinks he is innocent. He just followed orders.
"We couldn't have known, Dean."
That makes him stand up from the bed, a feeling alien at the same time achingly familiar burning in his stomach like acid. It takes him just a second to recognize it as anger. Only Castiel can make him feel like that. Castiel and Sam, but Sam is no more.
"Yes we could, we should have known. It was there, plain as day; and I was so worried and scared for my brother it didn't even cross my mind to be scared of him. And you following your fucking orders, not questioning them, just following--we're so screwed it's not even funny. And the worst part is we've screwed the whole world at the same time." Dean lets out a shaky breath at the end of the tirade, too fucking tired and heartsick to do more than let himself flop back down on the bed. "Send me back to Hell or leave me the fuck alone Cas, just do it now."
"I can't," he says, and there it is again, that different thing Dean can feel, now hear, in the bastard. It eerily sounds like regret, and maybe guilt. Pretty weird for someone who didn't seem able to feel human emotion.
"You have orders to bother me? Is that the reason you can't leave me the fuck alone?"
"No."
"Then what? Why are you here?"
They stare at each other in silence, off in the distance a siren goes off, probably some demon causing mayhem in town. Dean doesn't care, not anymore.
"You need to hunt him, Dean," Castiel says after a while, the silence so thick and uncomfortable even he has to feel it.
"I'm not hunting my brother," Dean stubbornly refuses, repeating aloud what he has been saying in his head since the end--or the beginning, really. "Not that I could kill him even if I did."
Castiel shakes his head. "Not to kill him, to save him," he says, his voice low but firm.
"What?" Dean's up in an instant, looking at Castiel with a mixture of hope and suspicion. An angel wouldn't lie to him. Not like that, right? "You're serious?"
"Yes."
"What about your orders?" Dean asks warily. He's been tricked by Castiel before--he wants to believe, but he isn't going to make a fool of himself twice.
There is a world of sadness in Castiel's voice. "They are not fair, I'm not following them. I should have realized sooner but I didn't, they don't come from my Father. I don't need to obey them. There is part of your brother still there, you can save him. I'm not killing an innocent again if I can help it."
And it's the truth, Dean can feel it. He wonders about the consequences, not only for Castiel, but also for himself. Heaven is going to be pretty pissed off, and that means there will be not only demons but also angels after him.
After them.
Dean smiles for the first time since what feels an eternity.
Hope really is a strange emotion.
"Well, what are we doing here man?" Dean hears himself saying, his voice sounding like a passable imitation of his old cheeky one. "We have a job."
He can swear there is a hint of a smile now in Castiel's face.
"You coming?" he asks grabbing his jacket and moving toward the door, eager to leave now there's a faint hope in the future.
"Yes."
…
Author:
avissCharacters: Castiel, Dean, pre-slash
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst, drama
Spoilers: up to episode 4.21
Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously.
Summary: Even after everything has gone to hell there can be some hope.
Word Count: ~3.900
Notes: Right so it took me what, two days to go from watching the 4th season to write fic for it. A record for me.
If you Fall for him, who's going to get him out of Hell this time? Who's going to get you both out?
…
He has to know.
Dean knows he's going to regret it, but one quick look at the wrecked Honeymoon suit and the closed door, not only to the room but also to his life as he's known it, assures him one more thing to regret isn't going to make a difference.
"Castiel!" he shouts at the top of his lungs, "Castiel, you bastard! Come here!"
He calls the name over and over again in his head. The last person he wants to see right now, the one he has to. Here, in the middle of this shitty room in this tasteful, expensive hotel it's all so clear. It was never Ruby, it couldn't be her.
That leaves only one name in a very short list of candidates.
He should have known.
"I am not at your beck and call, Dean Winchester," Castiel's cold voice tells him he isn't alone in the room anymore. Dean sits up carefully, trying not to get his hands sliced with the pieces of broken glass. He doesn't want to have to explain the blood stains to Bobby on top of everything else.
"You've come, haven't you?" Dean says snidely, glaring at him. Castiel is standing ramrod straight, staring back at Dean with something that looks remarkably closer to distaste.
Dean sighs, one step forward two steps back with this one.
"Is there something you want from me, Dean?" Castiel asks after a while, the silence stretching between them awkwardly.
Dean watches him through narrowed eyes; Castiel, the fucking breathing statue. He had thought before Castiel wasn't that bad, he was learning, he was becoming less of a dick and more human. That was before, now Castiel seems to be every bit of a dick as he was at the beginning. It pisses Dean off to no end.
"I was just wondering how a chained man can get away from a demon-proof room, one Bobby had guarded himself," Dean says in a conversational tone, reigning in his seething anger. He's just screwed everything between his brother and him, staying a bit calmer for this one is a must. It's not going to be easy, though. "And I remembered it happened just after my little chat with you. Remember my friend Alastair? He also managed to break free from the seals. This happens a lot around you?"
Castiel looks at him with the same cold expression, his gaze icy and disinterested. "I had no part in Alastair's release," he finally says, not denying the other part of the accusation. Dick. "Uriel's deceit was something I had not foreseen."
"I see you are admitting freeing Sam," Dean says, the faint hold he retains on his temper fraying quicker than he expected.
"I have no reason to deny it, I had orders," Castiel says simply.
"You had orders?" Dean repeats slowly, enunciating each word as if it were said in an alien language. One he doesn’t properly understand. He feels like that speaking to Castiel most of the time.
"Yes. He still has a part to play in this war."
"And you didn't stop to consider we had him there for a reason?"
"You were killing him," Castiel says repeating the same words Bobby already said to Dean. They have the same effect, none.
"He's better off dead," Dean says shaking his head. He's choking on his fury, the words so strained it's a miracle they are heard in the room, and knows he's going to lose it soon. "You said that yourself, he's turning into something I would want to hunt."
Castiel still stares at him; unmoving, unmoved. It's like arguing with a fucking concrete wall.
Dean just stares back at him, hatred like he hasn't felt before burning his stomach. He has sworn loyalty to this? Bobby was right, he's a fool.
"If it's God's will," Castiel finally says after a minute and Dean sees red. He moves on instinct, his body reacting before he can tell it to stay put, crossing the distance between him and Castiel in one powerful lunge.
He feels his punch connect and winces at the pain in his hand, the bones crunching loudly. It's not just like arguing with a concrete wall, it's also like trying to hit one. Castiel shows no more reaction than a distasteful look at him.
All the fight leaves him in a rush, the futility of it all getting to him. Dean presses his sore hand against his lip, shoulders slumping.
"Fuck you and your holy war, I'm out of here," he says wearily, turning his back to Castiel and leaving the room.
…
"It's time."
Dean startles at the sudden appearance of Castiel next to him, his hold on the steering wheel slipping and the Impala swerving wildly. He has a moment to be grateful there is nobody else on the road; he doesn’t need a car crash on top of everything else, though it would be the perfect ending for the worst day of his life.
"What are you doing here, Castiel?" he asks angrily. It's been just a couple of hours since he left the hotel room and he's been driving around just to try to calm down. He was almost there, but now he's feeling ready to kill again. And Castiel has only been there for a second.
"It's time," Castiel repeats as if Dean hasn't spoken. "All the pieces are in place, you have to stop Lilith breaking the last seal."
Dean shots him an incredulous look, turning his attention back to the road quickly. "I told you, fuck you and your war, and I mean it," Dean says clenching his jaw, irritation and hot, seething anger burning in his veins. "I'm not doing it."
"You are, you swore," Castiel says, his brow furrowing momentarily only to be smoothed again in that non-expression Dean hates so much.
"I don't care; you lied, I don't have to keep my word either."
He pulls over on a side of the road, stopping the car and getting out, Castiel is already standing at the other side of the Impala, waiting for him.
"You have to, you have no choice."
Dean laughs harshly, "I have a choice, you lied to me when you said Sam would be spared if I enlisted to your insane army. You freed Sam, I quit."
Castiel is looking at him intently now, the line furrowing his brow back. He looks angry and puzzled at the same time. With a slight shake of his head, it's gone.
"We can send you back to Hell," he says and Dean's blood runs cold at the threat but it doesn’t stop him. It's not the first time he's heard it.
"You won't, you need me."
"You are of no use if you disobey now, Dean," Castiel says and the warning is clear.
"What the fuck did the do to you in Heaven, Castiel?" he asks after a moment of silence, wondering. Castiel had threatened him before, that's nothing new, but even at the beginning he wasn't this much of a dick.
A fleeting expression passes through Castiel's face, too quick for Dean to recognize it, but it's a good sign. At least he can still feel something.
"That's nothing of your concern, Dean," Castiel says shortly.
"Yes it is," Dean insists, "something was going on, something that frightened you enough to seek me out in my sleep. And next I know they've dragged your ass kicking and screaming back to Heaven. I don't know what they did to you there, but you returned being as much of a bastard as Uriel was."
This time the expression in Castiel's face is easy to read, he flinches. "They didn't do anything Dean, I did it to myself. They just opened my eyes," he says, his voice laden with finality.
"Opened your eyes?"
Castiel turns to look away, his eyes fixed somewhere in the distance. "Yes, I was too close, I couldn't see."
He's talking in riddles and Dean doesn’t understand a thing, he just knows whatever it was they did to Castiel when they took him back to Heaven have to be bad. It's a wonder he has time to worry about this now the world is ending.
"Couldn't see what?"
Castiel looks at him, the intensity of his gaze something that has not changed. It makes Dean feel uncomfortable having those eyes focused on him. "I was thinking of disobeying, I was close to Falling."
He sees now. "So they took you back and brainwashed you to make you the perfect little soldier again?"
"You don't know what you're talking about, Dean Winchester," Castiel says coldly, "Heaven doesn’t need to explain the plan either to you or to me. Now let's go, we have a job to do."
"No," Dean says, stubbornly refusing to move.
"No?" Castiel looks at him incredulously, as if no one has refused him before. Dean knows that's not the truth, he remembers not doing what Castiel wanted at least once before.
"No, I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what happened to turn you into this machine--this hammer--again," Dean says crossing his arms over his chest to empathise his point.
"I don't have to tell you anything," Castiel repeats, his brow furrowing in annoyance.
"It's only fair you tell me why you screwed me over with this."
That earns him a glare, something he hasn't seen in Castiel's face before. Dean can tell he's angry, which is good, at least he's not controlling his emotions as tightly as before. There might still be hope for him.
"Fair?" Castiel says harshly, "What do you know about fair? I pulled you out of Hell and you're slowly dragging me down to it, how is that fair?"
"What are you talking about?"
"These feelings, these emotions--I don't need them." Dean can see now Castiel has not changed that much, not really. He's just gotten better at hiding it, but the feelings are there, the doubts are there. "I never doubted my orders before; I never considered rebelling until you started talking about fair and unfair. I am an Angel of the Lord, I have to obey."
"Even if the orders don't make sense?"
It's easier now to read the expression in Castiel's eyes, it's clearly pain. What those orders could be Dean doesn't know and he wishes for the umpteenth time he wasn't involved with fucking Heaven and Hell. He doesn’t know which one is more of a pain in the ass.
"I don't have to question their sense, I have to follow them," and strangely Castiel sounds more like he's saying that to himself than to Dean. He opens his mouth to say something else but Castiel stops him with a look. "We'll have this conversation, if you so wish, after we stop the last seal breaking. We have to go, now."
Dean wants to say not, he's still not satisfied, he's still angry. But he knows Castiel is right, they have to go.
They have an Apocalypse to stop and Dean has a brother to save.
…
"Are you sure this is the place?" Dean asks for the third time, staring at the empty warehouse just ahead of them.
He's not completely convinced of what they're doing, and it feels weird to be there without Sam, but if the last seal is being broken there, they Sam will come sooner or later.
Dean just wishes they can still fix things after the bitch is dead, hopefully at Dean's hand.
"Yes," Castiel says tilting his head as if listening to something. "She is inside, there isn't much time."
"But Sam--"
"He's coming."
…
It's all going wrong, Dean can feel it.
Lilith hasn't paid much attention to him apart from assessing he is alone and immobilizing him, Castiel too busy fighting off her minions to be of much help to him now.
Where the fuck are the hordes of Heaven now he needs them? They can't be the only ones with orders to stop this.
He has a bad feeling about this, and it only increases at noticing the smug smile on her face when the door opens again and his brother enters the room, Ruby dutifully following him.
Sam shots him a quick look and then focuses his attention in Lilith, who is not chanting, or sacrificing or really doing anything but smirking at them.
"Lilith," Sam says shortly, walking up to her.
"Sam Winchester, I was afraid you would not come," Lilith says, her childish voice grating against every single nerve in Dean's body. He wants to shout to Sam to run away, leave. He has a very bad feeling.
It's when Lilith starts the chanting that Dean realized just how screwed they are, they were waiting for them, for Sam.
"Sam, run!" he shouts but his brother is paying no attention to him.
"You die now, Lilith," Sam says stopping a few feet away from her.
Lilith laughs, the chanting stopping the moment Sam raises his hand, her pretty innocent face shining with triumph while her mouth opens in a screams.
"Sam, No!" Dean shouts, falling to the ground and scrambling to his feet to try to stop his brother. He looks at Castiel for help but can't see him, the demons he has been fighting probably overwhelming him by sheer numbers.
And still Heaven has not come.
Dean stares at his brother, hand held up in front of him while Lilith screams; a long high pitched scream of agony.
"Sam, stop!" he hears himself shouting, his movements too slow to stop what he can see coming. How could he have been so blind?
Sam turns to look at him, his eyes flashing first yellow and then red, his face twisting in horrified realization.
"Dean, help me!" Sam cries before he crumples to the ground, unconscious.
"Castiel, come here and give me a hand with my brother, we have to get him out of here!" Dean turns to where he has seen the angel standing last, fighting off Lilith's minions. Castiel is looking at him wide eyed, shaking his head.
Around them the world is shifting, the earth shakes and there is a low rumbling noise filling the entire room, as if the building is trying to fold into itself. Outside he can hear screams and shouts and the sound of chaos rising.
"It's too late, Dean," he says, shoulders hunching and an infinite sadness shinning in his eyes.
"No! Sam stopped Lilith, the bitch never got to break the last seal!" Dean insists, but the words taste wrong in his mouth.
"She did."
Dean knows is the truth, he has seen it even if he doesn't want to believe it.
"You let him go, Castiel," Dean says accusingly.
"I had orders, I didn't know--"
"You're wrong. We stopped it. We did," he says turning back to his unconscious brother with a last glare at Castiel.
Sam opens his eyes just as Dean is leaning over him, and they are not human.
…
It's over.
Everything's over; not only the war but also the world.
They've lost. They've lost spectacularly, and one look at the inhuman eyes on the familiar and loved face of what used to be his brother is enough to confirm it.
Dean closes his eyes and waits for the final blow to fall. At least he will have the honour to be killed by Sam--not, not Sam. Not anymore.
"What was that you called me before, Brother?" Sam says, the scorn in his voice making Dean wince. "What was it?"
He opens his eyes and forces himself to stare at Lucifer's eyes. He won't fool himself thinking it's Sam, there's nothing left of his brother there.
"A monster," he says through gritted teeth, the word tasting sour in his mouth. If only he could have taken it back in that fucking hotel room. But now it's too late, now it's also the truth.
He sees a movement on the corner of his eye, the place where Castiel has fallen is shimmering, a faint light getting brighter by the second.
Nobody else appears to have noticed.
"Do you want me to kill him?" Ruby, the fucking bitch, asks eagerly. It's easy to see she's going to enjoy that very much, she's itching for it.
"No," Lucifer says, his smile making Dean's blood curl. "I'll take him back to Hell myself; I heard his playmates are missing him."
He doesn't even have the time to blink before the white light explodes inside the room and something hits him like a fucking freighter, the impact enough to finally knock him out.
The last thing he hears before darkness rushes to get him are Lucifer's screams of rage.
…
"You should have left me there," Dean snaps angrily once the world stops moving. Fucking angelic mojo, it might be a fast way to travel but it makes him feel sick--sicker.
He's in such a bad state after the fight it's a miracle he's still standing. It's not that what makes him feel like he wants to throw up.
Castiel is in even worse condition than Dean, but that doesn't make him feel even one shred of pity for the bastard. Who cares about the annoying angel with everything else going on?
"I couldn't."
"Yes, you could," Dean says narrowing his eyes. "I failed, we're all dead. It won't make a difference now."
Castiel shakes his head sadly. "We can still fight."
"No," Dean says, his voice choked with loathing and disgust. He's not sure if at himself or the angel. Right now it's pretty much the same thing. "I can't."
He turns and leaves, not wanting to hear whatever Castiel wants to tell him.
…
Dean opens his eyes at the sound of the door opening, not making any movement to get up from the bed. He has not protected the motel room where he's resting for the day, all his guns and tools still in the Impala.
If they want him he's not even going to resist, there's no point.
Not anymore.
He lost. They lost, and it's all his fault.
If Heaven wants to toss him back to Hell and have every single demon there make him his bitch, Dean is going to just skip the lube and take it like a man.
Castiel enters the room silently and stops mere inches from Dean's bed.
"Came to take me back to Hell, Cas?" Dean says wearily. He doesn't have the energy to taunt Castiel; he doesn't have the energy for anything actually.
"No."
Dean stares at him, there's something different about Castiel and he can't put his finger on it.
"What are you doing here? I'm of no use to you."
"You're wrong, Dean," Castiel says in the same serious voice, his too intense gaze fixed on Dean. It's making him uncomfortable, and with a jolt he realizes it's the first thing he has felt since everything went to Hell.
Literally.
"Am I?" Dean sits up, scowling. "What do you think I can do? We've lost, I lost! I had it in front of me all the fucking time and was too blind to see it, and now he's walking the Earth again thanks to me. And to you, by the way," he can't help adding nastily. "If you had not interfered and freed him from Bobby's room this wouldn't be happening now."
Castiel's expression doesn't change, as if Dean's barbs aren't hitting the target. Maybe they're not; the self-righteous bastard probably thinks he is innocent. He just followed orders.
"We couldn't have known, Dean."
That makes him stand up from the bed, a feeling alien at the same time achingly familiar burning in his stomach like acid. It takes him just a second to recognize it as anger. Only Castiel can make him feel like that. Castiel and Sam, but Sam is no more.
"Yes we could, we should have known. It was there, plain as day; and I was so worried and scared for my brother it didn't even cross my mind to be scared of him. And you following your fucking orders, not questioning them, just following--we're so screwed it's not even funny. And the worst part is we've screwed the whole world at the same time." Dean lets out a shaky breath at the end of the tirade, too fucking tired and heartsick to do more than let himself flop back down on the bed. "Send me back to Hell or leave me the fuck alone Cas, just do it now."
"I can't," he says, and there it is again, that different thing Dean can feel, now hear, in the bastard. It eerily sounds like regret, and maybe guilt. Pretty weird for someone who didn't seem able to feel human emotion.
"You have orders to bother me? Is that the reason you can't leave me the fuck alone?"
"No."
"Then what? Why are you here?"
They stare at each other in silence, off in the distance a siren goes off, probably some demon causing mayhem in town. Dean doesn't care, not anymore.
"You need to hunt him, Dean," Castiel says after a while, the silence so thick and uncomfortable even he has to feel it.
"I'm not hunting my brother," Dean stubbornly refuses, repeating aloud what he has been saying in his head since the end--or the beginning, really. "Not that I could kill him even if I did."
Castiel shakes his head. "Not to kill him, to save him," he says, his voice low but firm.
"What?" Dean's up in an instant, looking at Castiel with a mixture of hope and suspicion. An angel wouldn't lie to him. Not like that, right? "You're serious?"
"Yes."
"What about your orders?" Dean asks warily. He's been tricked by Castiel before--he wants to believe, but he isn't going to make a fool of himself twice.
There is a world of sadness in Castiel's voice. "They are not fair, I'm not following them. I should have realized sooner but I didn't, they don't come from my Father. I don't need to obey them. There is part of your brother still there, you can save him. I'm not killing an innocent again if I can help it."
And it's the truth, Dean can feel it. He wonders about the consequences, not only for Castiel, but also for himself. Heaven is going to be pretty pissed off, and that means there will be not only demons but also angels after him.
After them.
Dean smiles for the first time since what feels an eternity.
Hope really is a strange emotion.
"Well, what are we doing here man?" Dean hears himself saying, his voice sounding like a passable imitation of his old cheeky one. "We have a job."
He can swear there is a hint of a smile now in Castiel's face.
"You coming?" he asks grabbing his jacket and moving toward the door, eager to leave now there's a faint hope in the future.
"Yes."
…
From:
no subject
I really enjoyed this. Thanks!
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Now I'm gonna go put an ice pack on my poor, aching heart, so's to be ready to have it broken again, tonight ...
Thank you for sharing this wonderfully written and perfectly characterized piece.
From:
no subject