Actions

Work Header

You Were Something I Never Expected

Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Summary:

It seems that Michael has gained the upper hand, using Dean's willingness to do anything to save Castiel against him.

Notes:

Nice short, ending chapter to wrap things up.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Dean was rather distracted the rest of his class, head in the clouds as he thought of Castiel. Then a cold feeling settled in his stomach, like a stone.

"Mr. Winchester?" one of his students asked. "Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah. I uh... You know what? That's enough for today. I'll see you guys Monday."

The children whooped as they gathered their things and burst out of the class.

Dean waited until they were all gone before sneaking back behind the school, shifting, and sprinting back to Bobby's as fast as he could.

"Bobby?! Cas?!"

"In here," Bobby called back.

Dean exhaled a relieved breath as he came in.

"You're home early," Bobby said as he stood up. "Where's the witch? I thought he went to see you at school."

"He did. Wait, he never came home?"

"No, I haven't seen him since."

Dean felt like his whole world shrank away. He had known something was wrong. He had known. He had to find him.

---

Castiel groaned upon waking hours later, a heavy pounding behind his eyes. His mouth tasted like peppermint and his fingertips felt like they had been dipped in jelly. He recognized the side effects of Knock Out Powder anywhere. He'd used it plenty of times himself. Castiel blinked his eyes open to find that it helped very little. Wherever he was being kept was very dark. Had he been able to wave a hand in front of his face, Castiel highly doubted he would have been able to see it. Despite this, he knew he had to take stock of the situation. He was sitting on what felt like a dirt floor with a stonewall behind him. His hands were chained together at the wrists, which had then been shackled to the wall. Castiel moved to stretch out his legs only to find that he was quickly met with another wall. The space he'd found himself in was extremely tiny. He tried to look around to see if his vision had adjusted even a little, but he found nothing. Until he looked up. A small, thin ring of light lay above him. A hole. Castiel was sitting in a hole. It was just so... medieval, but then again Michael was nothing if not a traditionalist. He could think of only one place that had a holding area like this, and that was actually the house he'd grown up in. The interior was completely normal, modern even, but it had a few nooks and crannies that went back to the dark ages. It always struck Castiel as strange, and part of him had always suspected that his older brothers had added them later rather than being an original part of the house. If he was correct in where he was being held, Castiel also knew that there was a small plug in the cover of the hole that could be removed. A plug that was just the size of the hose. Michael intended to drown him.

/Dean,/ Castiel tried projecting, unsure if the iron on his wrists would prevent telepathic communication as well, /Dean, Michael has me but I can't say for sure where I am. I think it's the house we grew up in./ He had no way of knowing if Dean received the message, but Castiel hoped he did because he had no idea how to get out of this on his own.

Dean had looked all over the city before eventually finding his scent near and antique store and running toward it. There was the scent of a car, and a weird powder that hurt Dean's snout. He stopped dead when he heart Castiel. /Cas, thank god, are you hurt? Where are you?/

Castiel could have cried when he heard Dean's responding voice in his head. /I have a headache,/ he tried to joke a bit, /But I'm fine. If I'm correct, I'm in the bottom of a hole. Like a medieval execution./

/Jesus, you said you were in the place you grew up? Where is it? Tell me where you are so I can come get you./ Dean's heart was beating so fast he thought it might burst through his ribcage.

/Our family likes personal touches. I'd pin this one on Michael or Lucifer. Maybe Raphael./ Castiel said, getting distracted for a moment as he tried to decide which brother would have installed an execution hole, /999 Enochian Ave. Heaven Heights, MA 12345/. Castiel could recite that address backwards if he had to. It had always been the place he'd promised never to return to.

/I'm on my way,/ Dean said, sprinting back into the garage. /Just hang on I'm coming for you/

Dean burst into Bobby's house, the older man thumbing through books for a summoning spell.

"Bobby, can you make a reverse summoning spell?"

"What the hell are you on about, boy?"

"Like instead of pulling a person from a specific place, can you send a person to a specific place?"

Bobby was silent for a long time. "If that's how you wanna play it," He said, taking a few items out of his desk. "You think it's smart to just charge after him?"

"I don't have a choice, Bobby. I have to get to him."

"Alright, alright, go get the holy oil from the basement."

---

Castiel heard a heavy grinding noise and he looked up to see the cover to the hole being turned and lifted. He flinched as harsh light assaulted his eyes.

"Well is he coming or not, baby brother?" he heard Michael call down.

"Go to hell," Castiel snapped, pulling against his restraints. He suddenly wondered if it was a mistake telling Dean where he was.

"Well excuse me for being impatient, but we can't start this process without him."

"What process?"

"Unbinding you," Michael answered simply, as if it were obvious. He replaced the cover on the hole before Castiel could answer, thrusting him into darkness once more. Telling Dean had definitely been a mistake.

---

The ritual had been mostly simple and it launched Dean half way across the states. He was too angry to give a flying fuck about the summoning sickness or the disorientation. By the time he kicked in the front door of Michael's mansion, he looked an awful lot like the way werewolves were portrayed in movies. His eyes and teeth were canine, his nails long and vicious, his shoulders protruding in sharp corners as he filled up the door.

"WHERE. IS HE!?" He roared through the mansion, his voice echoing through it and shaking the foundations of the house. Three witches assaulted him, but their throats left their bodies in three furious swipes as they laid and gasped on their own blood.

"Temper, temper," Michael tsked. "You can feel it can't you? That he's alive."

Dean sneered through his teeth, blood dripping from his maw, intending on charging Michael, but the witch held a hand up, then motioned toward a lever. He flipped the switch, opening up the lid in the center of the floor. The large metal post that Castiel was chained to started to rise out of the floor, up, up, up, until it connected with the vaulted Ceiling.

"Cas!" Dean called as the witch was lifted into the air, suspended painfully by the iron around his wrists. "Let him go," Dean sneered through his teeth, his glow in his eyes intensifying.

This was new. Castiel had never known any suspension rig to be set up in conjunction with the execution hole. It was smart, in a way. Not only was it honestly pretty painful, but the human body couldn't breathe properly suspended like this. Castiel would have to pull himself up to let everything expand so he could take a breath. As soon as he lost the strength to do that, he would suffocate and die. So Michael didn't want to drown him, but Castiel had been pretty close. They both involved suffocation.

"I'm fine, Dean," Castiel said, the lie evident to everyone's ears. Michael just rolled his eyes.

"You were right, Castiel," he called back, keeping his eyes on Dean, "You promised that I would have to end up killing you, and here we are."

"Drop the games Michael," Castiel spit out, "If that were the case, you wouldn't have brought me here. You wouldn't have brought Dean here. You're playing at something."

"You always were very observant. Shame that it all went to waste in someone like you," Michael sighed. Castiel just glared. They stayed that way for a moment, staring each other down until Michael sighed again. "Always taking the fun out of everything," he said, shaking his head, "You see, I had always been worried that Dean would be snatched up before I could get to him. Now of course, I could just kill whomever he was bound to, but that involves paperwork and cover-ups and it's just a bother. So, I had been looking into a way to separate bound familiars and witches. Everyone believed it was impossible. Until death do them part. They were wrong." Michael looked at them both, letting that sink in for a moment. "It's ancient," he continued, "Buried under years and years of people trying to hide it and hoard it for themselves. It sounds rather painful as well, but that doesn't really bother me. I won't waste time going into logistics. The point is, you two can be separated." Michael turned to Dean, staring him down despite his ferocity. "You do it, and he lives. You don't and I let him suffocate."

"No!" Castiel screamed, eyes wide in surprise and fear, "No, Dean don't!"

Dean's animalistic features started to fade as the reality of the situation began to sink in, his eyes fixed up on Castiel hanging from the ceiling. "What... what's to stop me from just killing you and getting him down myself?"

"You cannot kill me, Winchester," Michael droned with a sigh. "And even if you could, that column is solid iron. You'll never reach him. And once that column is in place like that, you can't get it back down without a very specific code, that I will never tell you. You haven't the time for trifles, boy. Tick tock... look at him... already struggling to breathe."

Time felt like it sat still.... his eyes fixed on Castiel, trying to find a way... any way... out.

"Okay," He said, nodding slightly, completely returning to his human form. "I'll do it... but I want a blood pact. I want a promise in blood that he goes free afterward."

"Very well," Michael droned, removing a dagger from his belt and slicing a gash along his arm before handing it to Dean. Dean did the same, and they joined their arms, Michael incanted the vow, and it was done. Dean nodded, the apology clear in his face as he looked up at Cas. "What... what do I have to do?"

"First... get in that familiar trap."

Dean looked over to the painted trap on the floor that sat under a skylight. He looked up at Castiel as he struggled for breath, pleaded with him not to go through with it... but he was Dean's master... what else could he do? He had to save him.

He stepped into the ring and immediately all the strength left his body. He collapsed onto his knees panting like he'd just ran a marathon.

"Good," Michael praised. "Now drink this."

Castiel pulled himself up and took another deep breath, but he had to admit that it was getting more difficult. Tears stung the corners of his eyes as he looked down at Dean. He looked so weak, so powerless, so unlike whom Castiel knew him to be. He couldn't let this happen. Castiel had to save him somehow. The more he watched, the more desperate he became.

"Very good," Michael said with narrowed eyes and a smile as he watched Dean drink the entire thing. Slowly, a pulsing ball of light began to appear in the middle of the room. It unwound itself, one end stretching towards Dean and the other to Castiel. A physical representation of their bond. It was beautiful. Castiel was so entranced by it, he didn't see Michael muttering under his breath. Suddenly, the bond snapped and Castiel had never felt more pain or sadness and despair in his life. He let out a blood-curdling scream.

Dean, too, threw his head back in a scream that shook the building. Light poured in from the skylight and engulfed Dean, even as he screamed, his throat tense as he felt like his very soul was ripped out of him. Tears streamed down his face and his arms were thrown behind him as he felt Castiel's consciousness leaving his mind. God, he felt like an entire part of himself went dark.

When it was over he hunched forward onto all fours, sobs wracking through his chest. He looked up at Cas, the sadness and desperation obvious on his tear stained face.

"Oh...okay... I did it..." His arms shook under his weight. "Let... let him go."

"Bind yourself to me."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"N...no... that wasn't... the deal."

"How the fuck would you know what the deal was you ignorant mongrel. Bind to me and he goes free."

"I... I can't..." He said, shaking his head. "Please I can't... there's... I'm in a trap.'

Michael gripped Dean by the hair and threw him out of the trap.

"BIND TO ME!"

Castiel pulled himself up on shaking limbs, needing to breathe after having the scream forced out of him. He couldn't do it much longer. He knew he couldn't. Michael had won. The thought alone made Castiel's blood boil. Michael had won. Dean would be forced to bind to him. Castiel would probably die anyway if they didn't lower him quickly enough. It was all over and Michael got everything he wanted.

"No," Castiel whispered, shaking his head in defiance, tears still streaming down his face.

"What was that?" Michael mocked, "Something to say?"

"NO!" Castiel screamed, feeling as though rage had come to fill him down to his toes. He could almost feel a whisper of Dean's presence, a memory of what had been. It only served to fuel him further. The shackles around his wrists began to crack, a pure white light taking over Castiel's eyes. That was when he lost hold of himself. He zoomed down in front of Michael, eyes burning, voice echoing with the power of thousands. Wind whipped through the room as he spoke, lifting Michael into the air. "You have abused the gifts you've been given," Castiel rumbled, the floor shaking with the force of his words, "And so, you will have the gifts no more." He repeated it, like a mantra, walking in the air as firmly as if he had been on the ground towards where Michael floated. Without warning, he stuck his hand through Michael's chest, his older brother letting out a scream of his own as Castiel ripped out what looked like a ball of red light, which he then crushed in his palm. Michael fell to the ground, unconscious. The light in Castiel's eyes flickered, as if he was going out of power. Whatever had come over him deserted him in that moment and he plummeted towards the ground.

Dean got up from the floor slowly, staring up at Castiel. He was a thing immortal, like a god from the old stories. "Jesus," he said to himself, watching as he did... whatever the fuck he did to Michael. "C-Cas..." he called as the light faded. "CAS!" He called when he started to plummet. He was tired. And he was weak. But he managed to catch him and take his weight, hitting his back with a cry of pain. His chest pumped as he shook his head out to look at the witch on top of him. "Are you okay? Jesus, what was that? Are you with me? Cas, talk to me."

Castiel was out for a moment or two at the most, quickly blinking back into awareness. "The fuck?" were the first words groaned out of his mouth as he rubbed at his eyes. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before. Honestly, he hadn't really been controlling anything. It had been much more of him taking a backseat ride to whatever had decided that Michael had gone too far. Then his eyes fell on Dean. "Dean, are you alright? God, what did he make you drink? Do you feel woozy, nauseous, violent, what? I can probably fix it. What the fuck even happened?" Castiel's mouth was moving a mile a minute, and part of him wasn't even sure if he was still speaking English.

Dean sat up and wrapped Castiel in his arms as tight as he could manage. "You went fucking level up and knocked Michael the fuck out, that's what you did. Are you okay? Jesus you were up there for a long time. God, I thought... I can't feel you in my head anymore." His eyes started to well up. "We... we're unbound Cas... Cas you're not my witch anymore."

"Hey," Castiel said with a sad smile, trying to pretend that he wasn't on the edge of tears, "Now you can be unbound like you always wanted. You don't have to stay anymore."

"Is that..." His eyes looked back and forth between Castiel's eyes. "Is that what you want? I can't... I can't hear your thoughts anymore so you need to be honest with me."

"God, no," Castiel said with a watery laugh, quickly losing himself over to his emotions. He just felt so... empty. "I could never want you to leave, Dean. But I know that you never wanted to be bound and now's your chance to get away."

"What if we stayed unbound?" He cleared his throat and got to his feet, helping Cas to his, though they were weary. He held onto Castiel's hands in both of his. "Cas...if we stayed unbound, would you stay? If we weren't Master and Familiar would you stay with me anyway?"

"I can't imagine life without you, Dean," Castiel said softly, a shaky smile on his face as his tears began to spill over, "I would stay for as long as you would have me."

"I told you this was forever and I meant it, do you understand?" His hands wrung on Castiel's shoulder, his jaw setting with determination. "Let this remove all those niggling little doubts in the back of your mind that I was forced on you." His eyes came alight and that familiar white light haloed his body as he used what strength he had to initiate the bond again. "I may not have chosen you then, but I choose you now." The light grew more intense and he shook Cas by his shoulders once, inhaling a breath through his teeth. "I need you to be mine. Like I need air, or-or-or water." He shook his head, his eyes aglow as they bore into Castiel's. "I love you, Cas. Bond with me."

Castiel continued to cry, but now the smile on his face was real and overjoyed. "Oh god, of course. Yes, yes!" Castiel agreed without hesitation, laying his hand over where the previous mark had lain without even thinking about it. He felt the familiar sensation of overwhelming power rushing into him, his palm being seared onto Dean's skin. "I love you too," he hiccuped, surging up to bury his face in the crook of Dean's neck as he clung to him.

Dean moved his hands to either side of Castiel's face, pulling his head up so he could kiss him, the room exploding around them as their wounds healed, like they had the first time. He kissed him like he'd been starved for it, like everything in his world depended on their lips meeting together. He moved one of his hands to the small of Castiel's back, pulling him in, deepening the kiss, trying to eliminate any and all space between them. He only broke the kiss when he had to, his teeth sharpening as his instincts forced him to mark Castiel, pulling his head to the side and sinking his teeth into the meat of Castiel's collar bone.

When the light started to fade, Dean felt stronger than he ever had, pulling his head back and looking down at Cas as his features started to dull. He reached up and wiped the blood from his mouth, closing his eyes as he felt Castiel's consciousness swimming through his.

He dropped his forehead onto Castiel's, panting, smiling.

/Welcome back/

Castiel laughed, somehow still crying as he held Dean close to him. He felt as though if he let go, Dean would slip through his fingers and Castiel could not allow that to happen.

/Good to be back. And I'm never leaving again./

Notes:

I might add an epilogue, but this is all we wrote and I wouldn't be able to write one on my own. I might talk to her after we finish the story we're doing now about going back to add a little something.

Notes:

Not a bad first chapter in my opinion. Since the story is finished, I'll be posting all the chapters tonight, so don't fret! The next one shall soon follow!