FIC: The Request, Dean/Castiel, 7/9
Jan. 23rd, 2010 11:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cloudy_ficTitle: The Request, 7/9
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: Um, I don't really have any. Except, enjoy!
His home is a run-down old two-story farmhouse on the outskirts of town.
Dean parks the Impala down the street from the house, out of the view, hidden behind a line of short Japanese maples. He and Cas are joined a moment later by Victor, Rufus and Jo and they discuss their plan one last time. It's simple really. Dean and Castiel are going through the front door while the others take the side and back exits. Hopefully, if Zazel is home, one of them will reach him and be able to count on four others to be circled around him. Dean sincerely hopes Zazel is near the front door. He's been looking forward to confronting this bastard for years.
"Let's go," Dean whispers to Cas as the others disperse, melting to the shadows built up around the house. He draws his gun, his trusty Colt and glances at Cas. "You ready?"
"Indeed."
They begin walking. The silence of night presses against them. Dean can't even hear crickets or frogs. That must be his imagination. The magnitude of this moment and not actually the animals falling quiet in anticipation. Near the front of the yard, they pass a huge metal mailbox with the name A.ZAZEL printed along the top. Dean still can't believe they missed this guy for so long. This man who Castiel tells him is a janitor at a local school. One of the invisible people, Dean thinks. Those people whose jobs or income make others ignore them completely. It gives them the ability to go unnoticed.
The stairs of Zazel's front stoop creak woefully under Dean's boot. He winces and lifts his foot. Before he can change tactics, he feels Castiel's arms circle his waist and then he's in the air. Not far off the ground, just enough to float over the stairs and up to the front door. Those big powerful wings flex on either side of his body, silent and beautiful and Dean thinks that this is the first time in his life he's ever enjoyed flying. Castiel deposits him on the front mat and glides to a quiet landing beside him.
"Thanks," Dean whispers. He ducks down and pulls out what he calls his 'breaking and entering' kit. It’d taken a little bit of time to procure a search warrant, but not as long as it might have because of the cases’ fame in the area. Everyone wants to see Y.E.D. caught. And besides, angel confirmation is more than enough to secure probable cause.
Once he gets the door unlocked, he pauses, waiting the ten minutes they agreed on. Once it's up, Dean trusts everyone is in place.
He carefully turns the handle and slowly eases the door open. Castiel crowds close and the only reason they don't go through the door at the same time is because it's not big enough. Once they are inside, a strong musty scent wafting over them, Cas moves back to his side. They walk further into the house as equals, though Dean is the only one with a gun. Cas had refused to carry one, citing his inexperience as likely to cause more problems than help.
The front foyer quickly ends in favor of a set of stairs and a door opening to the right. Everything looks gray and dusty. Dead and abandoned. Dean feels his heart sink. It looks like Anna's information may be out of date. Still, Dean gestures for Castiel to stay behind him before he clears the room through the door. Cas flattens himself against the wall and nods. His wings are stiller than Dean's ever seen them. He glances back and despite the situation, smiles when he sees the trail Cas' wings have made through the dust on the floor.
Dean flips around the edge of the door, gun pointed outwards. He nearly drops the gun at what he sees.
Zazel is sitting in a reading chair and he is facing away from the door. Dean hears the rustle of pages as Zazel browses through a book, apparently at ease. He waits a moment, unsure if Zazel hasn't heard them or just doesn't care if he's heard them. Considering this is a man who slaughtered at least ten women, Dean wouldn't be at all surprised if he just didn't care.
The press of feathers against his back draws his attention to Castiel, who frowns at him. As best he can, Dean signals that Cas should stay behind Zazel while Dean circles to the front of the chair. Dean can tell Cas doesn't like that plan, but Dean's the one with the gun. Plus, there's another door on the other side of this sitting room. It probably leads out to the back where Victor or Jo is exploring. Once they hear voices, they'll come to back Dean up.
Dean gets all the way around the chair before Zazel speaks. Cas mostly paid attention to Dean's orders, but he's crept up further than Dean would like and is also facing Zazel. Further away from him than Dean, but close enough to make Dean's stomach twist into a knot.
"Heard you come in," Zazel suddenly says, finally lifting his eyes from what turns out to be an old copy of National Geographic. His long face is covered in a wiry beard and his eyes are pale and watery. Dean can't place the color, but he can easily see how Dad could mistake them for yellow in the red-gold of a fire.
That's when it really hits Dean, full on in the chest, in the heart. This is him.. The yellow-eyed demon. The man who killed his mother and destroyed his father. A torrent of blistering anger pulses through his stomach and Dean lifts the gun, cocking it. He sees Cas move again, stepping closer, probably alarmed by the livid expression on Dean's face.
"Sorry we didn't knock, but when you're a murdering son of a bitch, cops tend to forget their manners," Dean says, though he's not even really sure what he's saying. It's taking every inch of his self-restraint not to empty his gun into Zazel's chest.
"A cop? Hmm." Zazel tosses the magazine aside and smiles at Dean. "Are you one of my kids?"
His tone is pleasant, even fond and it makes Dean feel like throwing up. He has no idea what Zazel means, but it doesn't stop him from wanting to rip that fond look off his ugly face.
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Dean growls.
"The kids I saved," Zazel explains and then malice climbs into his expression, turning his countenance into something more like the evil bastard Dean expected. "Saved from their lying cheating mothers."
Dean sees red. Both hands gripping the gun, a step forward and Dean knows he's shouting, too loud, too emotional, but he can't help himself. Zazel's just sitting there, safe and sound, talking about Dean's mother, daring to talk about his mother.
"Her name was Mary," he snarls. "My father was John. You killed them both, you sick fuck."
"Oh," Zazel breathes, the fondness back on his face. "Mary, yes. I remember her. She was my first. So lovely. Such pretty blond hair. Just like my dear sweet Ruby."
The way he says the name 'Ruby', the way it’s twisted with revulsion, tells Dean that Zazel seriously loathes whoever she is. Dean begins to get an inkling that this issue is a lot deeper than an evil bastard randomly killing women.
"You were hurt," Castiel says suddenly, startling Dean into jerking his head to the side. Cas hasn't moved from his position and he's staring hard at Zazel, staring deep, under the surface. Dean wants to yell, to tell Cas it doesn't matter what happened to Zazel, that nothing excuses what he's done. But he knows Cas is just trying to figure out what happened and that Dean should be doing the same. His hands tremble, the desire to kick and hit and shoot so strong.
"Someone hurt you," Cas continues and Dean manages to keep himself still.
"She took them," Zazel spits, his face contorting with hatred. "They were ours. Mine. My kids. She disappeared with them and she deserved to die."
Understanding hits Dean hard and he nearly buckles under the weight of it. Zazel and this Ruby woman must have had a couple of kids and then Ruby realized she'd hooked up with a crazy bastard. She took the kids away, leaving Zazel with a desire for revenge. And since he couldn't get it with Ruby, he found it with innocent strangers, young mothers who for whatever reason reminded Zazel of his long lost Ruby.
"You're insane," Dean says faintly and it's the wrong thing to say. Faster than Dean can really follow, Zazel is standing and there's a gun in his hand. His speed is startling, a hint of how he escaped their notice for so long.
"I'm not," he snaps. Any shred of calm Zazel might have felt is gone and in its place is a rage so strong that Zazel shakes with it. His eyes darken and Dean sees now there are bright gold rings circling his pupils. Cas moves a step closer. The gun swivels towards him, stopping him in his tracks. Fear crowds Dean's throat.
"Goddammit, Cas," he murmurs. "Stay where you are."
Zazel doesn't seem to hear Dean. He cocks the gun. Cas' eyes widen and he swallows hard.
"I'm not crazy. I helped you, don't you see?" Zazel says, words meant for Dean, but his eyes examining Cas from head to foot. The way his gaze lingers on Castiel, heavy and calculating, turns Dean's stomach. He's just about enough of this asshole. Keeping his gun firmly in place, Dean backs up a few inches, just enough to look past Castiel's head. A small motion catches his eye and he realizes with a jolt of relief that it's Victor trying to get his attention. A few hand signals later, Dean understands that Victor and Jo are standing on either side of the door, guns ready for Dean's sign. Now all Dean has to do is get Castiel out of the way without Zazel losing it and shooting up the room. He knew it was a bad idea to bring Cas in here. When Cas said he could take care of himself, Dean kind of thought Cas would be moving shit around with his mind and maybe pinning the bad guy to the wall or something. Instead, he is staring at the gun in Zazel's hand, his wings twitching nervously on his back.
"I see," Castiel answers. "Ruby took your life from you."
"Yes," Zazel answers triumphantly. All his attention turns to fix on Castiel. The one who seems to be taking him seriously. "I just wanted to help before she did it again," he says. Dean shivers, his stomach hurting. Zazel doesn't even seem to see the difference between Ruby and his other victims.
"Just like you," Zazel says to Castiel. "I was their angel."
Dean's trying to motion to Castiel, trying to get him to move back a couple of steps out of the line of fire, but Zazel sees the movement and the gun's back in his face.
"You needed an angel. I heard your father begging and crying and she didn't help," Zazel says, sneering. "I prayed and prayed and they never came to help me. I had to do it myself. Didn't have angels watching out for me."
"Yeah, that's cause no angel would help you murder innocent mothers," Dean snaps. He's hoping to get Zazel's entire attention on him, away from Cas, giving Cas the opportunity to move out of the way of the door. Dean tries to signal Castiel in the right direction, but instead of moving away, Cas moves closer, exactly in front of the door, blocking Victor and Jo. Dean clenches his teeth. Stupid angel.
"They weren't innocent," Zazel snaps.
"Put the gun down, Adam," Cas says gently, holding out a hand. "We aren't here to hurt you."
"Don't talk to me."
Zazel moves the gun back on Castiel and he suddenly seems angry with him, as if talking about angels has reminded Zazel how they abandoned him. Dean hates that they could ever share an emotion, that he could be as irrational as the maniac standing in front of him.
"You wouldn't help me. I needed you and you wouldn't come. You could have helped me find Ruby," Zazel growls and when he starts advancing on Castiel, Dean feels his heart leap into his throat. There's no time left. Without thinking even a little, Dean calls to Zazel and falls forward a step.
"Get the fuck away from him," he grounds out.
It all happens so fast.
Zazel's gun snaps back to Dean, aimed for his heart and Dean knows he's going to shoot. The wildness in Zazel's colorless eyes resolves into quiet determination. His run is over. He's going out with a bang and he's taking Dean with him. Even if Dean shoots now, he won’t be fast enough. He feels a blast of regret, wishes he had time to say goodbye to Sam and to Cas. Wishes for time to apologize to Cas for being a dick and ruining his first job.
Then there's a shot. The blunt sound of a bullet piercing flesh and time stands still.
Dean feels nothing.
Castiel's wing, his rebellious left wing, is stretched wide, covering Dean's chest and there is blood dripping from it, hitting the floor in thick wet splashes. Cas hasn't moved an inch. His head is lowered, his expression resolute. No doubt in his actions. Shock numbs Dean's mind, but not enough to stop him from realizing that if Castiel's wings had been even six inches shorter, Dean would have been killed instantly.
"Cas," he whispers and then suddenly, time speeds up. Victor and Jo pour into the room, flowing around Dean and Castiel, shooting at Zazel. Dean hears Zazel go down, but he doesn't care. It doesn't matter anymore. Zazel doesn't matter anymore. The only thing that matters is that Castiel has fallen to one knee, his face twisted with pain.
"Oh my god, Cas!" Dean skids to his side, catching Cas as he falls back, his wing bent at an awkward angle. Blood, darker red than human blood, pours continuously from the wound in the furthest tip of Castiel's wing, the last bit of flesh before it becomes only feathers. The beautiful wing is twisted and ruined. Dean gathers Cas against his chest, scared by how pale his face already looks.
"Knew..." Castiel’s words halt for a ragged pant. "Knew there was...reason I…had such big wings."
"Don’t say that! Shit, shit. Why's there so much blood?" Dean presses against the wound, trying to stop the flow. Cas moans low in throat and it kills Dean, but he doesn't stop. This can't happen to him. Not again. He can't lose another person he loves like this.
"The artery," Cas says, but Dean shushes him. He gets it anyway. The bullet must have nicked the main blood vessel in his wing and now his precious life force is flowing out on the floor. Behind him, Dean hears Victor calling for an ambulance, but he doesn't think it'll be fast enough. So he does the only thing he can think of.
He prays.
Please don't let him die. Please, God. Please do this for me.
In his arms, Castiel suddenly relaxes and his eyes fall shut. Panic wells up in Dean. Panic and anger and fuck, he just found Castiel and now he's going to lose him. He pulls him closer, pressing their foreheads together.
"Please, Cas," he murmurs. "Please don't leave me. I need you."
Silence. The body he holds is still. Void of breath and life and if this is what love feels like, the angels can keep it.
The minutes tick by.
Castiel gasps.
Gasps for air and it's the most blessed sound Dean's ever heard. He struggles in Dean's grip, straightening himself and peering around wildly until his eyes land on Dean. It's not until that moment that Dean realizes Cas' wing isn't bleeding any more. In fact, he doesn't see any blood. The wing is back to its original shape, his black shining feathers healthy once again.
"What...what the hell?"
Castiel flexes his shoulder with a grimace.
"That hurt," he says breathlessly. "It's much harder to do that in real life than in class."
"Class? What the fuck are you talking about?" Dean demands, his fear making him angry. "I thought you were...fuck, Cas, you looked dead!"
"Dead? Oh no!" Cas scrambles to his knees and faces Dean. "No, I was trying to heal myself. I've never done it before, not in reality. Most angels can do it without the trance." He looks rather chagrinned. "I need some practice, it seems."
“You…you fucking jerk!” Dean yells and he punches out at Castiel’s chest, too scared and angry to think clearly. Castiel lets Dean thrash against him for a minute before catching his hands and holding them tight against his chest.
“Dean,” he says quietly. “It’s okay now. I’m fine.”
It’s more Castiel’s gentle tone than his words that penetrate Dean’s mind and the tension suddenly drains out of his body, leaving him feeling exhausted.
"You...you're really okay?"
"Yes, Dean. I promise, I'm well," Castiel says, releasing his grip enough that Dean can sit back and look at him. Behind him, Dean hears Victor walk across the room, speaking low into his phone and Dean knows how it must look to his colleagues. He knows they can hear how wrecked he sounds. He just doesn't care. For once in his life, Dean doesn't give a fuck who sees him being emotional.
"There was a lot of blood," he says helplessly. Castiel nods, but doesn't speak. Instead, he takes Dean's hand and presses it against his left wing, letting Dean feel for himself. Castiel's feathers are soft and dry. The flesh beneath is whole. Warm and strong and uninjured. Some of Dean's panic seeps out of his chest and he begins to stroke the feathers.
"Don't do that anymore," Dean says as Castiel shudders at his touch.
"Do what?" Cas asks shakily.
"Scare me like that. I can't take it."
"I'm sorry I frightened you." The wing Dean isn't busy fondling sweeps up off the floor and Dean feels the soft caress of a feather against his cheek. "I'm not sorry I saved you. Never that."
Dean keeps his eyes on Castiel's wing feathers. If he looks up now, he's liable to say or do something crazy and overwrought. He doesn't want to make Castiel uncomfortable, so he just hits Cas lightly in the shoulders and growls what he can get passed his closed off throat.
"Fucking idiot of an angel," is what comes out, but it makes Castiel puff a short laugh and that's good enough for Dean.
"Dean?"
He looks up into Jo's face, her concerned eyes.
"Yeah?"
"The others are almost here," she says and gestures vaguely, obviously hoping Dean will get the idea that if he doesn't want the whole department to see him sloshing emotion all over the room, then he better pull himself the hell together. Cas pushes to his feet and holds out a hand, lifting Dean with ease, demonstrating his overwhelming strength.
"Where was all that brawn earlier?" Dean asks, reaching over to fix Castiel's collar. When Jo makes a strangled noise in her throat, probably an aborted laugh, Dean scowls and snatches his hands back. "Could have been useful before he pumped you full of lead."
"I wanted to give him a chance to surrender himself," Castiel says placidly. “Besides, one of us had to remain calm.”
Dean scowls at him.
"Next time, just knock the bastard out," Dean says, even though he knows there won't be a next time. No matter how much he doesn't want to think about it, Castiel isn't just another human. He isn't going to stick around to drive Dean crazy. In fact, their seven days are almost up.
"It's over," Castiel says, his eyes on the ground where Zazel lays, the light gone out of those horrible eyes.
"Yeah," Dean agrees. People always told him he should expect to feel empty if he ever found Y.E.D. That if his life's work was ever completed, he wouldn't necessarily feel good things. Those people were wrong. All Dean feels as he looks down at the limp empty body of Adam Zazel is relief.
"C'mon, Cas," Dean mutters. He hooks his index finger around Castiel's thumb and tugs him towards the door.
Castiel is right. It's finally over.
Now he can rest.
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: Um, I don't really have any. Except, enjoy!
His home is a run-down old two-story farmhouse on the outskirts of town.
Dean parks the Impala down the street from the house, out of the view, hidden behind a line of short Japanese maples. He and Cas are joined a moment later by Victor, Rufus and Jo and they discuss their plan one last time. It's simple really. Dean and Castiel are going through the front door while the others take the side and back exits. Hopefully, if Zazel is home, one of them will reach him and be able to count on four others to be circled around him. Dean sincerely hopes Zazel is near the front door. He's been looking forward to confronting this bastard for years.
"Let's go," Dean whispers to Cas as the others disperse, melting to the shadows built up around the house. He draws his gun, his trusty Colt and glances at Cas. "You ready?"
"Indeed."
They begin walking. The silence of night presses against them. Dean can't even hear crickets or frogs. That must be his imagination. The magnitude of this moment and not actually the animals falling quiet in anticipation. Near the front of the yard, they pass a huge metal mailbox with the name A.ZAZEL printed along the top. Dean still can't believe they missed this guy for so long. This man who Castiel tells him is a janitor at a local school. One of the invisible people, Dean thinks. Those people whose jobs or income make others ignore them completely. It gives them the ability to go unnoticed.
The stairs of Zazel's front stoop creak woefully under Dean's boot. He winces and lifts his foot. Before he can change tactics, he feels Castiel's arms circle his waist and then he's in the air. Not far off the ground, just enough to float over the stairs and up to the front door. Those big powerful wings flex on either side of his body, silent and beautiful and Dean thinks that this is the first time in his life he's ever enjoyed flying. Castiel deposits him on the front mat and glides to a quiet landing beside him.
"Thanks," Dean whispers. He ducks down and pulls out what he calls his 'breaking and entering' kit. It’d taken a little bit of time to procure a search warrant, but not as long as it might have because of the cases’ fame in the area. Everyone wants to see Y.E.D. caught. And besides, angel confirmation is more than enough to secure probable cause.
Once he gets the door unlocked, he pauses, waiting the ten minutes they agreed on. Once it's up, Dean trusts everyone is in place.
He carefully turns the handle and slowly eases the door open. Castiel crowds close and the only reason they don't go through the door at the same time is because it's not big enough. Once they are inside, a strong musty scent wafting over them, Cas moves back to his side. They walk further into the house as equals, though Dean is the only one with a gun. Cas had refused to carry one, citing his inexperience as likely to cause more problems than help.
The front foyer quickly ends in favor of a set of stairs and a door opening to the right. Everything looks gray and dusty. Dead and abandoned. Dean feels his heart sink. It looks like Anna's information may be out of date. Still, Dean gestures for Castiel to stay behind him before he clears the room through the door. Cas flattens himself against the wall and nods. His wings are stiller than Dean's ever seen them. He glances back and despite the situation, smiles when he sees the trail Cas' wings have made through the dust on the floor.
Dean flips around the edge of the door, gun pointed outwards. He nearly drops the gun at what he sees.
Zazel is sitting in a reading chair and he is facing away from the door. Dean hears the rustle of pages as Zazel browses through a book, apparently at ease. He waits a moment, unsure if Zazel hasn't heard them or just doesn't care if he's heard them. Considering this is a man who slaughtered at least ten women, Dean wouldn't be at all surprised if he just didn't care.
The press of feathers against his back draws his attention to Castiel, who frowns at him. As best he can, Dean signals that Cas should stay behind Zazel while Dean circles to the front of the chair. Dean can tell Cas doesn't like that plan, but Dean's the one with the gun. Plus, there's another door on the other side of this sitting room. It probably leads out to the back where Victor or Jo is exploring. Once they hear voices, they'll come to back Dean up.
Dean gets all the way around the chair before Zazel speaks. Cas mostly paid attention to Dean's orders, but he's crept up further than Dean would like and is also facing Zazel. Further away from him than Dean, but close enough to make Dean's stomach twist into a knot.
"Heard you come in," Zazel suddenly says, finally lifting his eyes from what turns out to be an old copy of National Geographic. His long face is covered in a wiry beard and his eyes are pale and watery. Dean can't place the color, but he can easily see how Dad could mistake them for yellow in the red-gold of a fire.
That's when it really hits Dean, full on in the chest, in the heart. This is him.. The yellow-eyed demon. The man who killed his mother and destroyed his father. A torrent of blistering anger pulses through his stomach and Dean lifts the gun, cocking it. He sees Cas move again, stepping closer, probably alarmed by the livid expression on Dean's face.
"Sorry we didn't knock, but when you're a murdering son of a bitch, cops tend to forget their manners," Dean says, though he's not even really sure what he's saying. It's taking every inch of his self-restraint not to empty his gun into Zazel's chest.
"A cop? Hmm." Zazel tosses the magazine aside and smiles at Dean. "Are you one of my kids?"
His tone is pleasant, even fond and it makes Dean feel like throwing up. He has no idea what Zazel means, but it doesn't stop him from wanting to rip that fond look off his ugly face.
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Dean growls.
"The kids I saved," Zazel explains and then malice climbs into his expression, turning his countenance into something more like the evil bastard Dean expected. "Saved from their lying cheating mothers."
Dean sees red. Both hands gripping the gun, a step forward and Dean knows he's shouting, too loud, too emotional, but he can't help himself. Zazel's just sitting there, safe and sound, talking about Dean's mother, daring to talk about his mother.
"Her name was Mary," he snarls. "My father was John. You killed them both, you sick fuck."
"Oh," Zazel breathes, the fondness back on his face. "Mary, yes. I remember her. She was my first. So lovely. Such pretty blond hair. Just like my dear sweet Ruby."
The way he says the name 'Ruby', the way it’s twisted with revulsion, tells Dean that Zazel seriously loathes whoever she is. Dean begins to get an inkling that this issue is a lot deeper than an evil bastard randomly killing women.
"You were hurt," Castiel says suddenly, startling Dean into jerking his head to the side. Cas hasn't moved from his position and he's staring hard at Zazel, staring deep, under the surface. Dean wants to yell, to tell Cas it doesn't matter what happened to Zazel, that nothing excuses what he's done. But he knows Cas is just trying to figure out what happened and that Dean should be doing the same. His hands tremble, the desire to kick and hit and shoot so strong.
"Someone hurt you," Cas continues and Dean manages to keep himself still.
"She took them," Zazel spits, his face contorting with hatred. "They were ours. Mine. My kids. She disappeared with them and she deserved to die."
Understanding hits Dean hard and he nearly buckles under the weight of it. Zazel and this Ruby woman must have had a couple of kids and then Ruby realized she'd hooked up with a crazy bastard. She took the kids away, leaving Zazel with a desire for revenge. And since he couldn't get it with Ruby, he found it with innocent strangers, young mothers who for whatever reason reminded Zazel of his long lost Ruby.
"You're insane," Dean says faintly and it's the wrong thing to say. Faster than Dean can really follow, Zazel is standing and there's a gun in his hand. His speed is startling, a hint of how he escaped their notice for so long.
"I'm not," he snaps. Any shred of calm Zazel might have felt is gone and in its place is a rage so strong that Zazel shakes with it. His eyes darken and Dean sees now there are bright gold rings circling his pupils. Cas moves a step closer. The gun swivels towards him, stopping him in his tracks. Fear crowds Dean's throat.
"Goddammit, Cas," he murmurs. "Stay where you are."
Zazel doesn't seem to hear Dean. He cocks the gun. Cas' eyes widen and he swallows hard.
"I'm not crazy. I helped you, don't you see?" Zazel says, words meant for Dean, but his eyes examining Cas from head to foot. The way his gaze lingers on Castiel, heavy and calculating, turns Dean's stomach. He's just about enough of this asshole. Keeping his gun firmly in place, Dean backs up a few inches, just enough to look past Castiel's head. A small motion catches his eye and he realizes with a jolt of relief that it's Victor trying to get his attention. A few hand signals later, Dean understands that Victor and Jo are standing on either side of the door, guns ready for Dean's sign. Now all Dean has to do is get Castiel out of the way without Zazel losing it and shooting up the room. He knew it was a bad idea to bring Cas in here. When Cas said he could take care of himself, Dean kind of thought Cas would be moving shit around with his mind and maybe pinning the bad guy to the wall or something. Instead, he is staring at the gun in Zazel's hand, his wings twitching nervously on his back.
"I see," Castiel answers. "Ruby took your life from you."
"Yes," Zazel answers triumphantly. All his attention turns to fix on Castiel. The one who seems to be taking him seriously. "I just wanted to help before she did it again," he says. Dean shivers, his stomach hurting. Zazel doesn't even seem to see the difference between Ruby and his other victims.
"Just like you," Zazel says to Castiel. "I was their angel."
Dean's trying to motion to Castiel, trying to get him to move back a couple of steps out of the line of fire, but Zazel sees the movement and the gun's back in his face.
"You needed an angel. I heard your father begging and crying and she didn't help," Zazel says, sneering. "I prayed and prayed and they never came to help me. I had to do it myself. Didn't have angels watching out for me."
"Yeah, that's cause no angel would help you murder innocent mothers," Dean snaps. He's hoping to get Zazel's entire attention on him, away from Cas, giving Cas the opportunity to move out of the way of the door. Dean tries to signal Castiel in the right direction, but instead of moving away, Cas moves closer, exactly in front of the door, blocking Victor and Jo. Dean clenches his teeth. Stupid angel.
"They weren't innocent," Zazel snaps.
"Put the gun down, Adam," Cas says gently, holding out a hand. "We aren't here to hurt you."
"Don't talk to me."
Zazel moves the gun back on Castiel and he suddenly seems angry with him, as if talking about angels has reminded Zazel how they abandoned him. Dean hates that they could ever share an emotion, that he could be as irrational as the maniac standing in front of him.
"You wouldn't help me. I needed you and you wouldn't come. You could have helped me find Ruby," Zazel growls and when he starts advancing on Castiel, Dean feels his heart leap into his throat. There's no time left. Without thinking even a little, Dean calls to Zazel and falls forward a step.
"Get the fuck away from him," he grounds out.
It all happens so fast.
Zazel's gun snaps back to Dean, aimed for his heart and Dean knows he's going to shoot. The wildness in Zazel's colorless eyes resolves into quiet determination. His run is over. He's going out with a bang and he's taking Dean with him. Even if Dean shoots now, he won’t be fast enough. He feels a blast of regret, wishes he had time to say goodbye to Sam and to Cas. Wishes for time to apologize to Cas for being a dick and ruining his first job.
Then there's a shot. The blunt sound of a bullet piercing flesh and time stands still.
Dean feels nothing.
Castiel's wing, his rebellious left wing, is stretched wide, covering Dean's chest and there is blood dripping from it, hitting the floor in thick wet splashes. Cas hasn't moved an inch. His head is lowered, his expression resolute. No doubt in his actions. Shock numbs Dean's mind, but not enough to stop him from realizing that if Castiel's wings had been even six inches shorter, Dean would have been killed instantly.
"Cas," he whispers and then suddenly, time speeds up. Victor and Jo pour into the room, flowing around Dean and Castiel, shooting at Zazel. Dean hears Zazel go down, but he doesn't care. It doesn't matter anymore. Zazel doesn't matter anymore. The only thing that matters is that Castiel has fallen to one knee, his face twisted with pain.
"Oh my god, Cas!" Dean skids to his side, catching Cas as he falls back, his wing bent at an awkward angle. Blood, darker red than human blood, pours continuously from the wound in the furthest tip of Castiel's wing, the last bit of flesh before it becomes only feathers. The beautiful wing is twisted and ruined. Dean gathers Cas against his chest, scared by how pale his face already looks.
"Knew..." Castiel’s words halt for a ragged pant. "Knew there was...reason I…had such big wings."
"Don’t say that! Shit, shit. Why's there so much blood?" Dean presses against the wound, trying to stop the flow. Cas moans low in throat and it kills Dean, but he doesn't stop. This can't happen to him. Not again. He can't lose another person he loves like this.
"The artery," Cas says, but Dean shushes him. He gets it anyway. The bullet must have nicked the main blood vessel in his wing and now his precious life force is flowing out on the floor. Behind him, Dean hears Victor calling for an ambulance, but he doesn't think it'll be fast enough. So he does the only thing he can think of.
He prays.
Please don't let him die. Please, God. Please do this for me.
In his arms, Castiel suddenly relaxes and his eyes fall shut. Panic wells up in Dean. Panic and anger and fuck, he just found Castiel and now he's going to lose him. He pulls him closer, pressing their foreheads together.
"Please, Cas," he murmurs. "Please don't leave me. I need you."
Silence. The body he holds is still. Void of breath and life and if this is what love feels like, the angels can keep it.
The minutes tick by.
Castiel gasps.
Gasps for air and it's the most blessed sound Dean's ever heard. He struggles in Dean's grip, straightening himself and peering around wildly until his eyes land on Dean. It's not until that moment that Dean realizes Cas' wing isn't bleeding any more. In fact, he doesn't see any blood. The wing is back to its original shape, his black shining feathers healthy once again.
"What...what the hell?"
Castiel flexes his shoulder with a grimace.
"That hurt," he says breathlessly. "It's much harder to do that in real life than in class."
"Class? What the fuck are you talking about?" Dean demands, his fear making him angry. "I thought you were...fuck, Cas, you looked dead!"
"Dead? Oh no!" Cas scrambles to his knees and faces Dean. "No, I was trying to heal myself. I've never done it before, not in reality. Most angels can do it without the trance." He looks rather chagrinned. "I need some practice, it seems."
“You…you fucking jerk!” Dean yells and he punches out at Castiel’s chest, too scared and angry to think clearly. Castiel lets Dean thrash against him for a minute before catching his hands and holding them tight against his chest.
“Dean,” he says quietly. “It’s okay now. I’m fine.”
It’s more Castiel’s gentle tone than his words that penetrate Dean’s mind and the tension suddenly drains out of his body, leaving him feeling exhausted.
"You...you're really okay?"
"Yes, Dean. I promise, I'm well," Castiel says, releasing his grip enough that Dean can sit back and look at him. Behind him, Dean hears Victor walk across the room, speaking low into his phone and Dean knows how it must look to his colleagues. He knows they can hear how wrecked he sounds. He just doesn't care. For once in his life, Dean doesn't give a fuck who sees him being emotional.
"There was a lot of blood," he says helplessly. Castiel nods, but doesn't speak. Instead, he takes Dean's hand and presses it against his left wing, letting Dean feel for himself. Castiel's feathers are soft and dry. The flesh beneath is whole. Warm and strong and uninjured. Some of Dean's panic seeps out of his chest and he begins to stroke the feathers.
"Don't do that anymore," Dean says as Castiel shudders at his touch.
"Do what?" Cas asks shakily.
"Scare me like that. I can't take it."
"I'm sorry I frightened you." The wing Dean isn't busy fondling sweeps up off the floor and Dean feels the soft caress of a feather against his cheek. "I'm not sorry I saved you. Never that."
Dean keeps his eyes on Castiel's wing feathers. If he looks up now, he's liable to say or do something crazy and overwrought. He doesn't want to make Castiel uncomfortable, so he just hits Cas lightly in the shoulders and growls what he can get passed his closed off throat.
"Fucking idiot of an angel," is what comes out, but it makes Castiel puff a short laugh and that's good enough for Dean.
"Dean?"
He looks up into Jo's face, her concerned eyes.
"Yeah?"
"The others are almost here," she says and gestures vaguely, obviously hoping Dean will get the idea that if he doesn't want the whole department to see him sloshing emotion all over the room, then he better pull himself the hell together. Cas pushes to his feet and holds out a hand, lifting Dean with ease, demonstrating his overwhelming strength.
"Where was all that brawn earlier?" Dean asks, reaching over to fix Castiel's collar. When Jo makes a strangled noise in her throat, probably an aborted laugh, Dean scowls and snatches his hands back. "Could have been useful before he pumped you full of lead."
"I wanted to give him a chance to surrender himself," Castiel says placidly. “Besides, one of us had to remain calm.”
Dean scowls at him.
"Next time, just knock the bastard out," Dean says, even though he knows there won't be a next time. No matter how much he doesn't want to think about it, Castiel isn't just another human. He isn't going to stick around to drive Dean crazy. In fact, their seven days are almost up.
"It's over," Castiel says, his eyes on the ground where Zazel lays, the light gone out of those horrible eyes.
"Yeah," Dean agrees. People always told him he should expect to feel empty if he ever found Y.E.D. That if his life's work was ever completed, he wouldn't necessarily feel good things. Those people were wrong. All Dean feels as he looks down at the limp empty body of Adam Zazel is relief.
"C'mon, Cas," Dean mutters. He hooks his index finger around Castiel's thumb and tugs him towards the door.
Castiel is right. It's finally over.
Now he can rest.
Next Chapter
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Date: 2010-01-24 07:08 am (UTC)Poor Cas, needing practice healing himself. *snickers* I bet Dean would rather he didn't get much practice. *g*
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Date: 2010-01-25 12:49 am (UTC)Aw, so glad you liked this and Cas with his saving!wings. :) Thanks for reading!