FIC: The Request, Dean/Castiel, 5/9
Jan. 21st, 2010 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cloudy_ficTitle: The Request, 5/9
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jenniferlupin
Pairing/Characters: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Jess, Anna, Michael
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AU, angels that aren't like angels from Supernatural or the Bible or really anywhere, but this story
Word count: approximately 36,000
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I'm making no profit from this fanfiction.
Status: Complete. I'll be posting a chapter a day for the next eight days.
Summary: When Sam Winchester prays for his brother, Castiel is finally sent on his very first assignment. But what should be a simple love match turns into much more and Castiel finds himself risking everything to ensure the happiness of his extremely frustrating charge.
Author notes: So I just wanted to say that I've not seen tonight's new episode. I can't imagine this story would inspire comments on it, but just in case, please no spoilers! Otherwise, go crazy!
"Okay, just promise me, whatever he says, you won't believe it unless I tell you it’s true."
Castiel is once again standing on the front steps of Sam Winchester's home. Only this time, he is pressed close against Dean's side and looking into Dean's wide earnest eyes.
"He lies about me all the time," Dean adds for emphasis.
"I promise to believe only you," Castiel says, but he is just teasing. He hopes Dean understands this because in reality, Castiel is looking forward to gleaning details about Dean's life from his brother. Much of Dean is an open book, but so much more is hidden away under dense layers of misdirection and false flippancy. Based on what Dean's related about their close kinship, Sam is probably the human who knows Dean the best.
"Yeah, right," Dean says and then he opens the door, not bothering to knock. "Sammy! We're here!"
"We're in the kitchen!" is the shout they hear in return. Dean hooks a finger through a loop on the end of Castiel's coat sleeve and drags him in the direction of the kitchen. It's an action Dean rather enjoys, pulling and tugging Castiel where Dean wishes him to go. Castiel allows it because he has no objection to these places and because he knows that with ten times Dean's strength, Castiel could stop him whenever he wants.
The kitchen is a light and airy space. Huge windows along one wall make way for brilliant shafts of yellow light. Castiel is immediately distracted by the way golden sparks of dust fall in lazy circles down through the bars of light.
"Hey, guys," Sam says and Dean releases Castiel's coat so he can clap Sam's shoulder and kiss the cheek of the woman standing next to him.
"Cas?"
Castiel pulls his attention away from this small random bit of Earthly beauty and smiles.
"You've met Sam, of course," Dean says. Sam silently asks for Castiel's hand, which he grants. He likes how large and gentle Sam's hands are.
"This is Sam's wife, Jess," Dean continues, gesturing to the woman. Like the brothers, she is tall and athletic. Her long hair is blond and her smile is nervous. By current human standards, she is quite beautiful. Strange how so many attractive humans should find their way into one cluster.
"Hi," Jess says. "Um, it's really nice to meet you. I've always wanted to meet an angel."
Jess and Sam both exude a similar sense of anxiety, an insistent desire to please Castiel that makes him feel a bit uncomfortable. Dean's aggravation with angels is frustrating, but in ways, far easier to handle.
"It's my pleasure," Castiel says, trying to ease away from his discomfort. It's not Jess' fault that angels are generally revered on Earth. "I've always wanted to meet humans."
For some reason, this comment makes Dean snort with laughter.
The next few moments pass in what Castiel assumes is idle human chitchat while Sam finishes preparing a meal. Jess asks Castiel about his work and in return relates stories about her job educating five year-old humans. Judging by her accounts, Castiel thinks waiting thousands of years for a job is simple in comparison. Still, she obviously enjoys it because her sweet soul fills with love and delight when she talks about her small charges.
Eventually, Sam announces their food is finished and he makes each of them transport a dish to the dining room. Castiel is given the care of a bowl of green and orange vegetables, which he bears with great caution. Something about the way he clutches the bowl with both hands apparently amuses Dean because he snorts again and rolls his eyes at him as Castiel carefully sets the bowl on the table. After they are all seated, Dean picks up the plate in front of Castiel and begins to fill it with food.
"Dean," Castiel says, but Dean cuts him off.
"I don't wanna hear it, Cas. I get it. You think human food'll make you sick or something." He pauses, a spoonful of pasta poised over the bowl. "Wait, it won't make you sick, will it?"
"Not sick." Castiel eyes the noodles and tries not to think about how wonderful the sauce smells. "Michael says it's not very healthy. Our diets are very strict."
An odd gleam of inexplicable joy flashes in Dean's eyes.
"So you're saying this is like junk food?"
"I don't-"
"Dean," Sam interrupts. "Don't corrupt him."
"Junk food, Sam," Dean says as if this is explanation enough. "He wants it. I can tell," he says, glancing back to Castiel. "You wanna try it, don't you? It's not against the rules, right?"
"Not technically," Castiel says slowly as he watches Dean pour the sauce over the noodles and add a serving of the green and orange vegetables. A pile of smaller vegetables, also green, finish the plate which Dean sets back in front of Castiel.
"Just taste it," Dean says. He's very close and his expression is so hopeful. The food smells delicious, so good that Castiel feels water gathering in his mouth and it's not like this would be the first time he's bent the rules on this job. Nor really the second time because eating human foods isn't even really against the rules.
"What is it?" Castiel asks, picking up the fork beside his plate. A pleased grin breaks across Dean's face and he points to each item in turn as he talks.
"Salad," he says, indicating the green and orange vegetables. "Peas," the smaller vegetables, "and beef stroganoff," is the noodles and brown sauce. "Dig in."
Noodles are very difficult to spear onto a fork. It takes several false starts before Castiel manages to gather a reasonable amount of noodles, meat and sauce onto the fork. The others watch eagerly as Castiel transfers the bite to his mouth and takes his first taste of human food.
Until that moment, Castiel never properly understood the point of taste buds. The smoky heat of a dark spice, an impression of salt and the tang of something else he couldn't possibly describe all at once assault his tongue. For the first time in his life, Castiel tastes flavor. Pure shocking and glorious flavor fills his mouth and against his will, a low keening noise escapes his throat.
"I guess you like it." Dean's voice is strangled and his eyes are wide, but Castiel doesn't take the time to figure out why. He's far too busy swallowing and tracking the feeling of the food sliding into his stomach, hot and satisfying. This is nothing like the bland gray porridge and hard wheat crackers that make up angel diets.
Dean watches him take another bite in apparent fascination.
"If this is the reaction we get out of friggin' beef stroganoff, what are you going to be like when we feed you sugar?"
"I can see why Michael warned us against human comforts," Castiel says, eyeing the dwindling pile of beef and noodles, already regretting the end of the meal. "One could easily become distracted by these Earthly pleasures."
Sam and Dean exchange a look, but it's Dean that says what Castiel thinks they are both wondering.
"When you say Earthly pleasures..." Another look passes between them and Castiel sees Jess trying to signal a silent message to Sam. Possibly a warning, but he can't tell. "Are you talking about sex too?"
Jess sighs and turns red. She probably was trying to send a warning after all. But Castiel doesn't see the problem. Sex isn't any more reason to be embarrassed than love is.
"Sex is carefully regulated among my kind." Before Dean can ask his inevitable questions, Castiel launches into a full-on description. He's learned well by now that humans are nearly insatiable in their curiosity.
"We must procreate, like any creature, but only certain of my brothers are allowed to awaken their sexual urges in order to do so. I'm not sure how the selection is made. I assume it has to do with which of my brothers is able to most successfully deny those urges once they are roused. Angel births are rather infrequent though, so not many of my brothers are troubled with it."
All three humans stare at Castiel for nearly a full minute. Dean, of course, is the first to find his voice.
"They...you...you sound like you're talking about livestock! They don't let you have sex? What happens if you fall in love?"
Castiel frowns. "You're attributing human qualities to non-human beings. Angels don't fall in love. Sex is only needed to continue our species."
"But does it feel good?" Sam asks, glancing to Jess as he does so. "Or is it just an issue of denying a biological urge, not an emotional one?"
"I don't know," Castiel answers. "I've never been selected to mate."
This statement creates another round of shocked silence, only this time the surprise is mixed with troubled pity, at least from Sam and Jess. Dean on the other hand appears entirely incapable of processing this information.
"I don't mind," Castiel assures them. He's never thought he'd be selected to father a child. He knew his superiors wouldn't want to pass his abnormal genes on to another generation. "Sex is not imperative for angels."
"Yeah, I get that," Dean snaps and he sounds angry. "But humans can go without sex too. Hell, everyone on Earth could stop having sex except to make kids and no one would die from it. Maybe they'd just feel like they were. Haven't you ever wanted...wasn't there ever anyone you wanted to be close to? Anyone who ever made you feel like you just wanted to touch them? Like you had to touch them?"
And Castiel's mind offers him memories. Of wanting to step closer to Dean, to feel Dean's body heat wrapping around him. His wings twitch with the muscle memory of restraining their desire to gather Dean against him. He remembers the inexplicable heat he'd felt when Dean touched his wing joint, the way his mind imagined feeling Dean's fingers sliding over his naked skin. Castiel thinks about Dean's parents and how Castiel couldn't stop himself from offering comfort, from touching Dean because he just had to do it.
"I've...I've never felt that way about any of my fellow angels," Castiel says carefully. He breaks the gaze he'd locked with Dean's and looks away, down at his salad.
"Oh," Dean says. The anger is gone, leaving a pained disappointment in its place.
"Well, that's okay," Jess says brightly, obviously trying to cover the awkwardness of the moment. She looks at Sam, offering another silent communication.
"Yeah, no, that's interesting," Sam says suddenly. "I mean, I didn't know angels had families like that. So some of your brothers are your actual brother brothers."
"Possibly," Castiel says distractedly. He wishes Dean would look at him. "I don't know which of my brothers gave birth to me."
With this new tidbit, Castiel manages to snag Dean's attention back to himself.
"They didn't tell you?"
"No. My garrison is my family and God is our Father. It would be difficult to maintain impartiality if certain of our brothers were singled out by a special relationship," he says.
Dean narrows his eyes at Castiel and then shakes his head. "Yeah, but you said you were bffs with your boss. And you share a bedroom with some other angels. Doesn't that make you have a special relationship with them?"
As matter of fact, it does. Castiel never really understood why familial relationships were discouraged when angels inevitably formed stronger bonds with their chamber-mates. Michael is Castiel's closest friend, but he is nearly as familiar with Uriel, Anna and Zachariah. He and Uriel especially share a close bond because Uriel was born the Wednesday before Castiel's Thursday of birth. And Anna...well, Castiel has always had a different and special relationship with Anna.
"I've always suspected that one of my chamber-mates, Anna, is my mother," Castiel says absently.
"Yeah, no special relationships, my ass," Dean grumbles, leaning back in his chair. "You know, the more I hear about you angels, the more I'm convinced that it's just like any human government. Just a bunch of hot air and hair dos and rules no one follows. Why don't you just ask this Anna chick if she's your mom?"
"We aren’t supposed to discuss it. I wouldn't want to put her in the position where she had to lie to me," Castiel evades, but he can see that Dean understands his hesitation.
"You're afraid she'd be insulted if you insinuated your freaky ass came out of her," Dean accuses.
"Dean!" Sam admonishes him. But Castiel can't deny it's true. Anna has always given Castiel special attention, always took care of him when he was still small and never made him feel worthless because of his appearance. But he never wanted to presume or chance upsetting her with his questions.
"It's true," Castiel says softly.
"Seriously, douchebags and dicks. That's all they are," Dean growls and this apparently proves too much for Sam.
He shoots out of his chair and hands Dean his now empty food dish.
"Why don't you start clearing up the dishes, Dean?"
"What?" Dean looks startled, both by the dish and by the stern expression on Sam's face.
"Go. Dishes. I'm taking Castiel into the living room for a drink," Sam says and he lightly touches Castiel's shoulder. "And when you're done being a jerk, you're welcome to join us."
They stare at each other. It feels very like a competition. One which Sam, whether because of his menacing demeanor or Dean's own sense of guilt, apparently wins because Dean grabs the plate and stacks it on his own, mumbling threats under his breath. Jess bites the inside of her mouth and reaches over to give Dean's arm a friendly squeeze.
"Don't worry. I'll help you," she offers.
Sam gestures for Castiel to follow him into the living room, but Castiel doesn't want to go if Dean is still angry.
"Dean?" he asks quietly.
Dean pauses. His eyes falls shut and he takes a deep breath. When he looks back at Castiel, he seems calmer and though he isn't angry anymore, he looks sad. Castiel likes this emotion even less on Dean.
"Sorry, Cas. I just...Sorry," he says and then he leaves the dining room before Castiel can answer. Jess gives him a softly sympathetic look as she follows Dean into the kitchen. With a sigh of frustratation, reflected in a disgruntled rustle of his feathers, Castiel joins Sam in the living room.
"You don't really have to drink," Sam says. He is pouring a light brown liquid into a short squat glass. "In fact, if you never have, it's probably better if you don't right now."
"Thank you," Castiel says, gathering his wings into his arms so he can fit into a black leather seat.
"Sorry about Dean. He's not been this way the whole time, has he?" Sam asks anxiously, searching Castiel's face for signs of offense.
"No, he's been...no," Castiel says. "I'm not offended with him. I know Dean feels emotions very deeply and they upset him. And I know he is angry about a request that went wrong."
Sam's expression changes, from nervous to resigned and that's when Castiel realizes the perfect opportunity he's been given.
"What happened with the request, Sam?"
"He didn't tell you?"
"Not in detail. Just that your mother sent a request. I know Dean is not comfortable with this topic, but I fear I won't be able to do my job properly unless I know more about Dean's past. Something there is holding him back and making it impossible for Dean to form a romantic relationship. I think this might be it," Castiel says. He is surprised by his own voice, by how deep and gruff his tone becomes over his concern for Dean. The genuine worry must be evident to Sam as well because he heaves a sigh and deflates, his head lying back against the couch cushions.
"I guess it won't hurt to tell you. It's not really a secret anyway and it's partly my story as well," Sam says. A sip of the alcohol pulls a pained look out of Sam, but Castiel thinks it helps steel Sam's resolve nonetheless.
"She was murdered when I was six months old," Sam says hurriedly, like he thinks it will hurt less if he says as fast as possible. "She was killed by a serial arsonist we've always called the Y.E.D. because we've never learned his real name."
That grief Castiel felt for Mary's death returns, pressed painfully into his chest by the addition of horror and anger. He'll never understand the unspeakable cruelties humans visit upon one another. The way they tear at each other and delight in giving each other pain and fear and hatred. In class, their lessons on evil always shocked Castiel, but nothing could prepare for the very real experience of knowing that a human, a person he loves, has been hurt so very deeply.
"He spoke of the Y.E.D. at work," Castiel says, his voice now unrecognizable under the weight of his fury. "I did not know he was the perpetrator of this terrible crime."
"Yeah," Sam says. He becomes tense, eyes glued to Castiel's face, but he doesn't comment on Castiel's behavior. "Dean told me he got sent on a wild goose chase for information. He always does. Any little mention of anything to do with the case and Dean drops everything to chase after him. Dad was the same way and it got him killed."
"The Y.E.D killed your father too?" Castiel asks, shocked anew.
"Not directly. After Mom died, Dad got back into homicide investigation and he worked his ass off trying to get this guy. He and Dean worked the case together after Dean graduated from the Academy and one night they thought they had him. They were so close and then..." Sam falters in his story for the first time and swallows hard. "Dad took a bullet meant for Dean and it turned out it was just a fucking copy-cat. It wasn't Y.E.D. at all. Dean's never forgiven himself for that."
Fury and sorrow are starting to overwhelm Castiel. He can feel his wings shifting and tossing like angry waves and he sees that he is beginning to seriously frighten Sam, but he can't help himself. Dean's been carrying this pain around inside himself for years and Castiel didn't know. He was sitting safe up in Heaven, while Dean was stewing in grief and pain and existing without Castiel to help him.
It's too much.
"Tell me everything you know about the Y.E.D.," Castiel commands.
"There isn't much really. There hasn’t been very much new evidence in years. It’s pratically a cold case. Not that that stops Dean from jumping at any mention of the murders, of course,” Sam says with a forlorn sigh. “We think he's responsible for about ten murders across the state of Kansas, mostly close in around Lawrence, but a few over in Kansas City and Topeka. All women. All mothers of young children," he continues, straightening back up from the couch and leaning his elbows on both knees. "Y.E.D. stands for Yellow-eyed Demon. Dad named him that because...because when he saw him in my nursery and it looked like his eyes flashed yellow. And because he's an evil son of a bitch," Sam spits bitterly and for the first time Castiel sees how difficult this must be for Sam as well. Losing a mother before he knew her and then watching the rest of his family destroy itself trying to locate her killer.
"Your mother prayed for help, didn't she?" Castiel says. In his anger, he'd almost forgotten the original reason for this conversation. It seems only distantly important now in comparison to all the other pains the Winchesters have suffered.
"Yeah and she got it, too."
"Then...how was she allowed to die?"
"She didn't pray for herself, Castiel," Sam says. He gazes into the glass of alcohol, but Castiel doesn't think he is seeing it.
"That bastard stabbed her before he set the fire. I think she knew she was going to die and she just wanted to make sure we were safe. I don't think she even thought about herself. All that mattered was making sure we got out safely."
Castiel immediately sees how it must have gone. Mary Winchester prayed for her family's safe deliverance and an angel was dispatched. Dean must have met the angel and spoken with her. He can so easily imagine Dean, tiny and scared, begging the angel to save his mother, please save his mother. Or maybe he heard his father begging the same thing and all Dean remembers is the angel's refusal. Because Castiel knows she must have refused. The most sacred rule in angelic society is that requests must be completed to the letter. If the angel wasn't charged with saving Mary's life, then they would never do it, no matter how much they were begged.
"I think it's easier for Dean to blame angels for Mom's death than it is for him to believe she was meant to die or something," Sam says sadly. "I don't blame him. It's hard for me to accept that it was her fate, my fate never to know her."
Castiel knows what he should say. That it was Mary's time. That he would have done the same thing the red-haired angel did. But he doesn't want to say those things. He doesn't want to think those things. All he wants to do is fix it. If Dean can’t find information about Y.E.D. through Earthly methods, then they must turn to Heavenly ones. Castiel must clear Dean’s heart of Y.E.D.’s shadow.
"What day of the week did your mother die?"
"Uh...um, it was Wednesday, I think. Why?" Sam asks, utterly confused.
"I'll need to know where to start looking," Castiel explains as he extracts himself from the sofa.
"Looking for what? What are you talking about?" Sam asks, hopping up from the couch to join him. Castiel curls his hand over Sam's thick shoulder and peers up into his worried eyes.
"Tell Dean I'll return as soon as I can."
He doesn't wait for an answer before opening his wings and disappearing.
Next Chapter
Author:
jenniferlupinPairing/Characters: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Jess, Anna, Michael
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AU, angels that aren't like angels from Supernatural or the Bible or really anywhere, but this story
Word count: approximately 36,000
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I'm making no profit from this fanfiction.
Status: Complete. I'll be posting a chapter a day for the next eight days.
Summary: When Sam Winchester prays for his brother, Castiel is finally sent on his very first assignment. But what should be a simple love match turns into much more and Castiel finds himself risking everything to ensure the happiness of his extremely frustrating charge.
Author notes: So I just wanted to say that I've not seen tonight's new episode. I can't imagine this story would inspire comments on it, but just in case, please no spoilers! Otherwise, go crazy!
"Okay, just promise me, whatever he says, you won't believe it unless I tell you it’s true."
Castiel is once again standing on the front steps of Sam Winchester's home. Only this time, he is pressed close against Dean's side and looking into Dean's wide earnest eyes.
"He lies about me all the time," Dean adds for emphasis.
"I promise to believe only you," Castiel says, but he is just teasing. He hopes Dean understands this because in reality, Castiel is looking forward to gleaning details about Dean's life from his brother. Much of Dean is an open book, but so much more is hidden away under dense layers of misdirection and false flippancy. Based on what Dean's related about their close kinship, Sam is probably the human who knows Dean the best.
"Yeah, right," Dean says and then he opens the door, not bothering to knock. "Sammy! We're here!"
"We're in the kitchen!" is the shout they hear in return. Dean hooks a finger through a loop on the end of Castiel's coat sleeve and drags him in the direction of the kitchen. It's an action Dean rather enjoys, pulling and tugging Castiel where Dean wishes him to go. Castiel allows it because he has no objection to these places and because he knows that with ten times Dean's strength, Castiel could stop him whenever he wants.
The kitchen is a light and airy space. Huge windows along one wall make way for brilliant shafts of yellow light. Castiel is immediately distracted by the way golden sparks of dust fall in lazy circles down through the bars of light.
"Hey, guys," Sam says and Dean releases Castiel's coat so he can clap Sam's shoulder and kiss the cheek of the woman standing next to him.
"Cas?"
Castiel pulls his attention away from this small random bit of Earthly beauty and smiles.
"You've met Sam, of course," Dean says. Sam silently asks for Castiel's hand, which he grants. He likes how large and gentle Sam's hands are.
"This is Sam's wife, Jess," Dean continues, gesturing to the woman. Like the brothers, she is tall and athletic. Her long hair is blond and her smile is nervous. By current human standards, she is quite beautiful. Strange how so many attractive humans should find their way into one cluster.
"Hi," Jess says. "Um, it's really nice to meet you. I've always wanted to meet an angel."
Jess and Sam both exude a similar sense of anxiety, an insistent desire to please Castiel that makes him feel a bit uncomfortable. Dean's aggravation with angels is frustrating, but in ways, far easier to handle.
"It's my pleasure," Castiel says, trying to ease away from his discomfort. It's not Jess' fault that angels are generally revered on Earth. "I've always wanted to meet humans."
For some reason, this comment makes Dean snort with laughter.
The next few moments pass in what Castiel assumes is idle human chitchat while Sam finishes preparing a meal. Jess asks Castiel about his work and in return relates stories about her job educating five year-old humans. Judging by her accounts, Castiel thinks waiting thousands of years for a job is simple in comparison. Still, she obviously enjoys it because her sweet soul fills with love and delight when she talks about her small charges.
Eventually, Sam announces their food is finished and he makes each of them transport a dish to the dining room. Castiel is given the care of a bowl of green and orange vegetables, which he bears with great caution. Something about the way he clutches the bowl with both hands apparently amuses Dean because he snorts again and rolls his eyes at him as Castiel carefully sets the bowl on the table. After they are all seated, Dean picks up the plate in front of Castiel and begins to fill it with food.
"Dean," Castiel says, but Dean cuts him off.
"I don't wanna hear it, Cas. I get it. You think human food'll make you sick or something." He pauses, a spoonful of pasta poised over the bowl. "Wait, it won't make you sick, will it?"
"Not sick." Castiel eyes the noodles and tries not to think about how wonderful the sauce smells. "Michael says it's not very healthy. Our diets are very strict."
An odd gleam of inexplicable joy flashes in Dean's eyes.
"So you're saying this is like junk food?"
"I don't-"
"Dean," Sam interrupts. "Don't corrupt him."
"Junk food, Sam," Dean says as if this is explanation enough. "He wants it. I can tell," he says, glancing back to Castiel. "You wanna try it, don't you? It's not against the rules, right?"
"Not technically," Castiel says slowly as he watches Dean pour the sauce over the noodles and add a serving of the green and orange vegetables. A pile of smaller vegetables, also green, finish the plate which Dean sets back in front of Castiel.
"Just taste it," Dean says. He's very close and his expression is so hopeful. The food smells delicious, so good that Castiel feels water gathering in his mouth and it's not like this would be the first time he's bent the rules on this job. Nor really the second time because eating human foods isn't even really against the rules.
"What is it?" Castiel asks, picking up the fork beside his plate. A pleased grin breaks across Dean's face and he points to each item in turn as he talks.
"Salad," he says, indicating the green and orange vegetables. "Peas," the smaller vegetables, "and beef stroganoff," is the noodles and brown sauce. "Dig in."
Noodles are very difficult to spear onto a fork. It takes several false starts before Castiel manages to gather a reasonable amount of noodles, meat and sauce onto the fork. The others watch eagerly as Castiel transfers the bite to his mouth and takes his first taste of human food.
Until that moment, Castiel never properly understood the point of taste buds. The smoky heat of a dark spice, an impression of salt and the tang of something else he couldn't possibly describe all at once assault his tongue. For the first time in his life, Castiel tastes flavor. Pure shocking and glorious flavor fills his mouth and against his will, a low keening noise escapes his throat.
"I guess you like it." Dean's voice is strangled and his eyes are wide, but Castiel doesn't take the time to figure out why. He's far too busy swallowing and tracking the feeling of the food sliding into his stomach, hot and satisfying. This is nothing like the bland gray porridge and hard wheat crackers that make up angel diets.
Dean watches him take another bite in apparent fascination.
"If this is the reaction we get out of friggin' beef stroganoff, what are you going to be like when we feed you sugar?"
"I can see why Michael warned us against human comforts," Castiel says, eyeing the dwindling pile of beef and noodles, already regretting the end of the meal. "One could easily become distracted by these Earthly pleasures."
Sam and Dean exchange a look, but it's Dean that says what Castiel thinks they are both wondering.
"When you say Earthly pleasures..." Another look passes between them and Castiel sees Jess trying to signal a silent message to Sam. Possibly a warning, but he can't tell. "Are you talking about sex too?"
Jess sighs and turns red. She probably was trying to send a warning after all. But Castiel doesn't see the problem. Sex isn't any more reason to be embarrassed than love is.
"Sex is carefully regulated among my kind." Before Dean can ask his inevitable questions, Castiel launches into a full-on description. He's learned well by now that humans are nearly insatiable in their curiosity.
"We must procreate, like any creature, but only certain of my brothers are allowed to awaken their sexual urges in order to do so. I'm not sure how the selection is made. I assume it has to do with which of my brothers is able to most successfully deny those urges once they are roused. Angel births are rather infrequent though, so not many of my brothers are troubled with it."
All three humans stare at Castiel for nearly a full minute. Dean, of course, is the first to find his voice.
"They...you...you sound like you're talking about livestock! They don't let you have sex? What happens if you fall in love?"
Castiel frowns. "You're attributing human qualities to non-human beings. Angels don't fall in love. Sex is only needed to continue our species."
"But does it feel good?" Sam asks, glancing to Jess as he does so. "Or is it just an issue of denying a biological urge, not an emotional one?"
"I don't know," Castiel answers. "I've never been selected to mate."
This statement creates another round of shocked silence, only this time the surprise is mixed with troubled pity, at least from Sam and Jess. Dean on the other hand appears entirely incapable of processing this information.
"I don't mind," Castiel assures them. He's never thought he'd be selected to father a child. He knew his superiors wouldn't want to pass his abnormal genes on to another generation. "Sex is not imperative for angels."
"Yeah, I get that," Dean snaps and he sounds angry. "But humans can go without sex too. Hell, everyone on Earth could stop having sex except to make kids and no one would die from it. Maybe they'd just feel like they were. Haven't you ever wanted...wasn't there ever anyone you wanted to be close to? Anyone who ever made you feel like you just wanted to touch them? Like you had to touch them?"
And Castiel's mind offers him memories. Of wanting to step closer to Dean, to feel Dean's body heat wrapping around him. His wings twitch with the muscle memory of restraining their desire to gather Dean against him. He remembers the inexplicable heat he'd felt when Dean touched his wing joint, the way his mind imagined feeling Dean's fingers sliding over his naked skin. Castiel thinks about Dean's parents and how Castiel couldn't stop himself from offering comfort, from touching Dean because he just had to do it.
"I've...I've never felt that way about any of my fellow angels," Castiel says carefully. He breaks the gaze he'd locked with Dean's and looks away, down at his salad.
"Oh," Dean says. The anger is gone, leaving a pained disappointment in its place.
"Well, that's okay," Jess says brightly, obviously trying to cover the awkwardness of the moment. She looks at Sam, offering another silent communication.
"Yeah, no, that's interesting," Sam says suddenly. "I mean, I didn't know angels had families like that. So some of your brothers are your actual brother brothers."
"Possibly," Castiel says distractedly. He wishes Dean would look at him. "I don't know which of my brothers gave birth to me."
With this new tidbit, Castiel manages to snag Dean's attention back to himself.
"They didn't tell you?"
"No. My garrison is my family and God is our Father. It would be difficult to maintain impartiality if certain of our brothers were singled out by a special relationship," he says.
Dean narrows his eyes at Castiel and then shakes his head. "Yeah, but you said you were bffs with your boss. And you share a bedroom with some other angels. Doesn't that make you have a special relationship with them?"
As matter of fact, it does. Castiel never really understood why familial relationships were discouraged when angels inevitably formed stronger bonds with their chamber-mates. Michael is Castiel's closest friend, but he is nearly as familiar with Uriel, Anna and Zachariah. He and Uriel especially share a close bond because Uriel was born the Wednesday before Castiel's Thursday of birth. And Anna...well, Castiel has always had a different and special relationship with Anna.
"I've always suspected that one of my chamber-mates, Anna, is my mother," Castiel says absently.
"Yeah, no special relationships, my ass," Dean grumbles, leaning back in his chair. "You know, the more I hear about you angels, the more I'm convinced that it's just like any human government. Just a bunch of hot air and hair dos and rules no one follows. Why don't you just ask this Anna chick if she's your mom?"
"We aren’t supposed to discuss it. I wouldn't want to put her in the position where she had to lie to me," Castiel evades, but he can see that Dean understands his hesitation.
"You're afraid she'd be insulted if you insinuated your freaky ass came out of her," Dean accuses.
"Dean!" Sam admonishes him. But Castiel can't deny it's true. Anna has always given Castiel special attention, always took care of him when he was still small and never made him feel worthless because of his appearance. But he never wanted to presume or chance upsetting her with his questions.
"It's true," Castiel says softly.
"Seriously, douchebags and dicks. That's all they are," Dean growls and this apparently proves too much for Sam.
He shoots out of his chair and hands Dean his now empty food dish.
"Why don't you start clearing up the dishes, Dean?"
"What?" Dean looks startled, both by the dish and by the stern expression on Sam's face.
"Go. Dishes. I'm taking Castiel into the living room for a drink," Sam says and he lightly touches Castiel's shoulder. "And when you're done being a jerk, you're welcome to join us."
They stare at each other. It feels very like a competition. One which Sam, whether because of his menacing demeanor or Dean's own sense of guilt, apparently wins because Dean grabs the plate and stacks it on his own, mumbling threats under his breath. Jess bites the inside of her mouth and reaches over to give Dean's arm a friendly squeeze.
"Don't worry. I'll help you," she offers.
Sam gestures for Castiel to follow him into the living room, but Castiel doesn't want to go if Dean is still angry.
"Dean?" he asks quietly.
Dean pauses. His eyes falls shut and he takes a deep breath. When he looks back at Castiel, he seems calmer and though he isn't angry anymore, he looks sad. Castiel likes this emotion even less on Dean.
"Sorry, Cas. I just...Sorry," he says and then he leaves the dining room before Castiel can answer. Jess gives him a softly sympathetic look as she follows Dean into the kitchen. With a sigh of frustratation, reflected in a disgruntled rustle of his feathers, Castiel joins Sam in the living room.
"You don't really have to drink," Sam says. He is pouring a light brown liquid into a short squat glass. "In fact, if you never have, it's probably better if you don't right now."
"Thank you," Castiel says, gathering his wings into his arms so he can fit into a black leather seat.
"Sorry about Dean. He's not been this way the whole time, has he?" Sam asks anxiously, searching Castiel's face for signs of offense.
"No, he's been...no," Castiel says. "I'm not offended with him. I know Dean feels emotions very deeply and they upset him. And I know he is angry about a request that went wrong."
Sam's expression changes, from nervous to resigned and that's when Castiel realizes the perfect opportunity he's been given.
"What happened with the request, Sam?"
"He didn't tell you?"
"Not in detail. Just that your mother sent a request. I know Dean is not comfortable with this topic, but I fear I won't be able to do my job properly unless I know more about Dean's past. Something there is holding him back and making it impossible for Dean to form a romantic relationship. I think this might be it," Castiel says. He is surprised by his own voice, by how deep and gruff his tone becomes over his concern for Dean. The genuine worry must be evident to Sam as well because he heaves a sigh and deflates, his head lying back against the couch cushions.
"I guess it won't hurt to tell you. It's not really a secret anyway and it's partly my story as well," Sam says. A sip of the alcohol pulls a pained look out of Sam, but Castiel thinks it helps steel Sam's resolve nonetheless.
"She was murdered when I was six months old," Sam says hurriedly, like he thinks it will hurt less if he says as fast as possible. "She was killed by a serial arsonist we've always called the Y.E.D. because we've never learned his real name."
That grief Castiel felt for Mary's death returns, pressed painfully into his chest by the addition of horror and anger. He'll never understand the unspeakable cruelties humans visit upon one another. The way they tear at each other and delight in giving each other pain and fear and hatred. In class, their lessons on evil always shocked Castiel, but nothing could prepare for the very real experience of knowing that a human, a person he loves, has been hurt so very deeply.
"He spoke of the Y.E.D. at work," Castiel says, his voice now unrecognizable under the weight of his fury. "I did not know he was the perpetrator of this terrible crime."
"Yeah," Sam says. He becomes tense, eyes glued to Castiel's face, but he doesn't comment on Castiel's behavior. "Dean told me he got sent on a wild goose chase for information. He always does. Any little mention of anything to do with the case and Dean drops everything to chase after him. Dad was the same way and it got him killed."
"The Y.E.D killed your father too?" Castiel asks, shocked anew.
"Not directly. After Mom died, Dad got back into homicide investigation and he worked his ass off trying to get this guy. He and Dean worked the case together after Dean graduated from the Academy and one night they thought they had him. They were so close and then..." Sam falters in his story for the first time and swallows hard. "Dad took a bullet meant for Dean and it turned out it was just a fucking copy-cat. It wasn't Y.E.D. at all. Dean's never forgiven himself for that."
Fury and sorrow are starting to overwhelm Castiel. He can feel his wings shifting and tossing like angry waves and he sees that he is beginning to seriously frighten Sam, but he can't help himself. Dean's been carrying this pain around inside himself for years and Castiel didn't know. He was sitting safe up in Heaven, while Dean was stewing in grief and pain and existing without Castiel to help him.
It's too much.
"Tell me everything you know about the Y.E.D.," Castiel commands.
"There isn't much really. There hasn’t been very much new evidence in years. It’s pratically a cold case. Not that that stops Dean from jumping at any mention of the murders, of course,” Sam says with a forlorn sigh. “We think he's responsible for about ten murders across the state of Kansas, mostly close in around Lawrence, but a few over in Kansas City and Topeka. All women. All mothers of young children," he continues, straightening back up from the couch and leaning his elbows on both knees. "Y.E.D. stands for Yellow-eyed Demon. Dad named him that because...because when he saw him in my nursery and it looked like his eyes flashed yellow. And because he's an evil son of a bitch," Sam spits bitterly and for the first time Castiel sees how difficult this must be for Sam as well. Losing a mother before he knew her and then watching the rest of his family destroy itself trying to locate her killer.
"Your mother prayed for help, didn't she?" Castiel says. In his anger, he'd almost forgotten the original reason for this conversation. It seems only distantly important now in comparison to all the other pains the Winchesters have suffered.
"Yeah and she got it, too."
"Then...how was she allowed to die?"
"She didn't pray for herself, Castiel," Sam says. He gazes into the glass of alcohol, but Castiel doesn't think he is seeing it.
"That bastard stabbed her before he set the fire. I think she knew she was going to die and she just wanted to make sure we were safe. I don't think she even thought about herself. All that mattered was making sure we got out safely."
Castiel immediately sees how it must have gone. Mary Winchester prayed for her family's safe deliverance and an angel was dispatched. Dean must have met the angel and spoken with her. He can so easily imagine Dean, tiny and scared, begging the angel to save his mother, please save his mother. Or maybe he heard his father begging the same thing and all Dean remembers is the angel's refusal. Because Castiel knows she must have refused. The most sacred rule in angelic society is that requests must be completed to the letter. If the angel wasn't charged with saving Mary's life, then they would never do it, no matter how much they were begged.
"I think it's easier for Dean to blame angels for Mom's death than it is for him to believe she was meant to die or something," Sam says sadly. "I don't blame him. It's hard for me to accept that it was her fate, my fate never to know her."
Castiel knows what he should say. That it was Mary's time. That he would have done the same thing the red-haired angel did. But he doesn't want to say those things. He doesn't want to think those things. All he wants to do is fix it. If Dean can’t find information about Y.E.D. through Earthly methods, then they must turn to Heavenly ones. Castiel must clear Dean’s heart of Y.E.D.’s shadow.
"What day of the week did your mother die?"
"Uh...um, it was Wednesday, I think. Why?" Sam asks, utterly confused.
"I'll need to know where to start looking," Castiel explains as he extracts himself from the sofa.
"Looking for what? What are you talking about?" Sam asks, hopping up from the couch to join him. Castiel curls his hand over Sam's thick shoulder and peers up into his worried eyes.
"Tell Dean I'll return as soon as I can."
He doesn't wait for an answer before opening his wings and disappearing.
Next Chapter
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no subject
Date: 2010-01-22 08:12 pm (UTC)It's somehow enchanting the way they both get mad/worried about the events in each other's past. They have sad stories *pets them*
I can't wait for tomorrow's chap
no subject
Date: 2010-01-23 06:53 am (UTC)Thanks for reading!