tracy_loo_who | Fic: And I Will Walk On Water (5/18)

Title: And I Will Walk On Water (5/18)
Characters: Dean and Castiel, Sam
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~5,500
Notes: As always, thanks to

ibroketuesday for being endlessly patient and helpful.
Summary: Dean and Castiel have fun with baked goods, but true to the nature of all good things, it comes to an end.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

It was strange, this whole having-a-friend-who-wasn't-Sam thing, and Dean didn't know if he and Castiel would ever get it right, but it was a new day and the sun was shining in through the window and somehow that made him want to try. But first, he wanted some of that coffee he could smell.

Dean opened his eyes to see Sam sitting at the table, laptop, donuts, and two cups of coffee before him. The coffees were from Starbucks instead of McDonald's, and the donuts were Dean's favorite (the kind with strawberry jelly filling). It was Sam's way of apologizing and trying to smooth things out between them, and Dean was in the mood to play along because arguing some more wouldn't get them anywhere when there was nothing new to say.

He got out of bed and sauntered over to snatch up a donut, and then made an appreciative (if somewhat lewd) noise when he bit into it. "Is it pushing my luck to hope that you're subscribing to porn sites for me?" he asked around his mouthful.

Sam snorted. "I'm trying to figure out how to kill Lucifer for you."

"Oh." Right. Dean grimaced and drank his coffee because he didn't even know where to begin thinking about Lucifer and his fucking offer and worrying when he'd be back. He was kind of stupidly grateful Sam was thinking about it, though. "Anything?"

"Well, it's not exactly the sort of thing you can Google," Sam replied wryly. "I'm gonna call Bobby and then hit up the library in a bit." He watched for Dean's reaction.

There was a time when Dean would have been suspicious of Sam going off to "do research" by himself, but despite what had happened the day before, Dean found himself perfectly willing to trust that Sam was going to do what he said he was going to do. He didn't trust Sam to never use his powers again, but he trusted that Sam didn't want to, and he hoped that, at least, was true. In any case, Ruby was dead so it wasn't like Sam had anyone to sneak off with. "Sure, dude," Dean shrugged as he finished his donut. "Just remember the pie on your way back."

He turned to head to the bathroom for a shower, but out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Sam roll his. It was one of those relaxed, casual eye rolls, though, and that lightened Dean's step.

***

Dean thought about Castiel in the shower. Which was not to say he was a pervy angel-phile, because he wasn't. He let the hot spray beat down on his bowed head and thought about Castiel letting Sam out of that panic room and just couldn't muster any of his anger from the night before. That had happened months ago, and so much more had happened since then. Castiel had changed so profoundly, tried so hard, risked so much, and suffered so terribly since he'd been that spineless dick, and there was nothing that made Dean need to reevaluate how much he trusted him now. He remembered, too, the abject misery in Castiel's eyes when he'd thought Dean was done with him, and wondered if it was possible that he, Dean Winchester, could matter so much to an angel. He didn't think so, but the fact of the matter was, Castiel was sorry, and he wanted Dean to be his friend, and Dean wanted that too. So, he forgave Castiel, and it made him smile a little to himself.

Sam was already gone when he got out of the shower, so after Dean put some clothes on, the first thing he said was, "Come back, Cas."

Castiel did so, appearing in one corner of the room and watching Dean warily, as if he thought Dean might start yelling again, or worse. Dean couldn't help but notice that Castiel was standing as far away from him as possible, and that softened his voice when he said, "Want a donut?" There were two left.

Though Castiel gave him a faintly puzzled look, he seemed to sense that Dean wasn't angry, and came closer. He stopped a foot in front of Dean and searched his eyes, and whatever it was he was looking for, Dean met his gaze and let him. It could still be unnerving, over a year after he'd first met Castiel, to be picked apart and scrutinized by those piercing blue eyes that always saw too much, but Dean had nothing to hide anymore, not from Castiel, the angel who had seen what he'd done in Hell and yet still believed in Dean and wanted to be his friend. And maybe that was why Dean wanted this too, because if Castiel was still here, after everything, then maybe it meant he wouldn't leave.

As Dean stood still and tried to imagine what Castiel looked like behind Jimmy's blue eyes and pretty face, it kind of amazed him, to be honest, that someone as ancient and awe-inspiring as this angel would choose to be here with him, right now. But there was nothing ancient or awe-inspiring about the way Castiel asked, "You forgive me?" In fact, it held an almost childlike hope.

Dean had almost forgotten that was still questionable. "Yeah, Cas," he said with a shrug. "I told you I would."

Castiel lowered his gaze in confusion, but then he looked back up at Dean and asked, "Why?"

Dean sighed, and his eyes searched the dirty motel walls for the right words. He didn't find them there, of course, so he looked back at Castiel and said, "Look, we all make mistakes, it's part of being human. Uh, not that you are one, but whatever, you're bumming it with us now, so you're allowed to make them too. And I mean, we're friends, right?" The word still embarrassed him to say out loud, and Dean rushed to add, "We've even drunk beer together and everything." He paused there to be even more embarrassed about how ridiculous that sounded, and kind of wished he could start over. He was not the right person to be teaching an angel about the mushier aspects of humanity, and wondered briefly if Oprah happened to be on before he saw an image of an angel watching Oprah in his head and shook it. "Uh, what I'm trying to say is, human relationships are more unconditional than what you guys have up in Heaven, and maybe I didn't give you that impression back in the green room, but I'm not sitting around waiting for you to do something wrong so I can kick you to the curb, Cas. Look at Sam; he pissed me off a hell of a lot more than you ever have and I still want his sasquatch ass around."

The unreadable expression Castiel wore while Dean talked turned into one of surprise at the end, like it startled him that Dean would compare him to Sam. But then he nodded once, slowly, and bit his lip. His eyes flickered downward for a moment, no more than a long blink, and then he glanced back up at Dean and said shyly, "I'd love a donut."

Maybe this friendship thing wouldn't be too impossible after all, Dean thought with a lopsided grin, and he was actually kind of stupidly and boyishly excited about it because it was almost as new to him as it was to Castiel. And besides, there was precious little else to be excited about, these days.

He picked up the box with its two donuts and held it out to Castiel, who took one curiously, using only the tips of two fingers and being so fucking dainty about it that Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a priss, Cas, the fun in eating with your hands lies in being able to lick it off your fingers afterward." He demonstrated by grabbing the last donut with his free hand and liberally coating three fingers in donut glaze in the process. "Try it," he said as he took a large bite, and then his next words were somewhat muffled, "I bet you'll love the strawberry jelly filling, it's my favorite."

Castiel looked down at his donut and allowed more of the glaze to get on his fingers, but even that seemed like a carefully planned action. Then he brought it to his mouth and nibbled on the edge, experimentally. Apparently he decided he liked it, though, because then he took a proper bite, large enough to rival Dean's.

Dean grinned at him, almost proudly. "Yeah?"

"Better than beer," Castiel agreed, and when he returned the smile, it was small but it warmed Dean, and he maybe even felt a little bit fond of his weird angel companion. It was strange and yet oddly nice to think of Castiel as someone to whom something as simple as a bit of human kindness could make a difference.

When Dean was done, he sucked the sugary glaze off his fingers, and after a moment of studying him, Castiel followed suit. Dean froze (no doubt looking like an enormous idiot with the tip of his thumb still in his mouth), because when he'd told the angel that the best part was being able to lick it off his fingers, he hadn't thought said angel would do it so, well, angelically. It was the most innocent thing Dean had ever seen -- just Castiel with a finger in his mouth and looking childishly pleased about it -- and that made it positively pornographic. "Uh," he said awkwardly, because feeling like he was watching angel porn was definitely, definitely awkward.

Castiel gave him a questioning head tilt and took the finger out of his mouth. "Dean?"

"Nothing. Just," Dean paused, embarrassed, and grabbed a napkin off the table to hand to Castiel. "Just wipe it off, okay? Or angel mojo it away or whatever."

Castiel chose to use the napkin, and while he did that, Dean picked up his half-finished coffee from earlier and took a sip so he could hide behind it. But he made a face because it was cold, and then Castiel was right there in front of him, only a few inches away and wrapping his own hand around the cup as well, under Dean's. Their hands didn't touch, but they were close enough that Dean could feel the warmth from Castiel's, or then again, maybe that was just the sudden heat emanating from his coffee. Castiel withdrew his hand and stepped back again, and Dean blinked because the entire thing had happened in only a few seconds. "Dude, did you seriously just angel mojo up my coffee?"

"Consider it a perk," Castiel replied, and though his expression was as impassive as ever Dean thought he could hear a little cheek.

He snorted in amusement and drank more of his coffee, which was now deliciously hot but not enough to burn his tongue. Castiel was good at this, apparently. "What other perks are there to having an angel pal? Winning lotto tickets?" he asked hopefully. Castiel gave him an imperiously disapproving look. "Well, it was worth a try," Dean muttered as he flopped down into a chair to nurse his coffee. Something occurred to him and he peered up at Castiel. "I know you kinda fell out with the man upstairs, but this isn't going to turn into one of those relationships where you try to drag me off to church every Sunday and make me stop swearing and picking up hot chicks, is it? 'Cause if so, then we need to get you laid ASAP."

Castiel looked away quickly and perched on the edge of Dean's bed. "I don't like sex," he said quietly, to his hands. They were folded in his lap, and Dean felt like an ass as he watched them fidget uncomfortably. Foot, meet mouth. How could he have forgotten?

"Sorry, I--"

"It's fine, Dean," Castiel said, looking up again and offering Dean a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I know you like it a lot."

"Uh." Dean wasn't sure what to say to that. "Sure, I mean, it can be pretty great when you do it right." Castiel snorted softly, possibly in disbelief. "What, seriously," Dean insisted. Whatever had happened to Castiel, Dean was pretty sure worse had happened to him, and he still found celibacy unfathomable. "I know you're not a fan of the whole human touch thing right now, but if you ever decide to give it another shot, you might not regret it is all I'm saying."

Castiel seemed unconvinced. "Physical intimacy doesn't interest me."

"It's not about intimacy," Dean shrugged, distantly wondering how he'd managed to back himself into the highly awkward corner named Talking About Sex With an Angel. "Life isn't a chick flick, and sex between two people doesn't mean they suddenly want to have their happily ever afters with each other." He thought of Cassie and all the things she'd once made him want and pulled a face. "Actually, I've found it's best to not confuse people you screw with people who are important to you."

After regarding Dean thoughtfully for a few moments, Castiel said, "Jimmy would disagree."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, well, Jimmy didn't lead the kind of life we do." Then he immediately felt bad for the poor bastard and added, "Not until you came along, anyway. But considering how starved he was for food when we met him, I bet he'd love for you to get him laid. You'd be doing him a favor."

Castiel's eyes narrowed, and there was something sharp and bitter about it that surprised Dean because it sprang up out of nowhere. "Jimmy is--" he began edgily, but then he caught himself and bit his lip and looked away without finishing.

Dean had a sudden, sickening thought, and he kind of hated himself because it hadn't even occurred to him to wonder before now. "He wasn't-- Does Jimmy know?" he asked, a little hoarsely. Jimmy had said he only caught bits and pieces, so Dean had sort of subconsciously assumed Castiel would have made sure none of those bits and pieces were from those three months, but then again Castiel had been utterly powerless in that prison cell, so maybe--

But Castiel shook his head. It wasn't quite a denial, but all the same, Dean relaxed a little. "He is aware," Castiel said carefully, a faint crease in his brow, "but he wasn't at the time." He looked up at Dean suddenly, and there was something desperately imploring in his eyes when he insisted, "I tried my best, Dean. I tried."

"Hey, I know you did, it's okay," Dean replied, automatically and soothingly, although truthfully, he didn't know if it was. It was a huge mercy that Castiel had kept Jimmy from experiencing any of it, but all the same, he was sure it couldn't be easy for Jimmy to live with the knowledge of what had happened to him. Dean didn't doubt Castiel had tried his best, though, so it mostly just confused him why it seemed so important to Castiel that Dean believed him. Did Jimmy not? The thought made Dean frown. "How, uh." He cleared his throat. "How is he?"

Castiel's shoulders slumped in something that might have been guilt or defeat or both, and he looked away and said, softly, "Angry."

Dean winced in sympathy for both of them; for Jimmy who'd had his life and body torn apart because of the angel, and for Castiel who'd done everything he could and who still had to live inside someone who probably hated and blamed him. What a clusterfuck that must be, no wonder he was so fucked up and moody all the time. Dean sighed and said, "You know, if you really hate living in a human body so much, you don't have to stay." He couldn't deny that he'd sort of miss Castiel, especially since they were just beginning to learn how to be friends, but he had a suspicion that Castiel was only still here because of Dean and that wasn't fair to either Castiel or Jimmy.

Castiel returned to staring intently at Dean, and then he shook his head slightly and said, "But where would we go? Jimmy can't return home, and neither can I." Dean's guilt must have shown on his face, because then Castiel hurried to add, "Jimmy chose me, Dean, and I chose this." He even tried to smile a little, and seemed to relish the words. "And I don't hate it. Donuts are nice."

He was obviously just trying to distract Dean from his own guilt, and Dean let him for now. He could worry about them later, when Castiel wasn't around to worry that he was worrying. (Dean gave himself a headache sometimes, but he didn't want to worry about that, either.) "Glutton," he said fondly. Then he thought of something that might cheer Castiel up and brightened. "If you like donuts, you're gonna love the bakery, Cas. Come on, I'll take you." As soon as he stood up, though, he remembered that Sam had taken the car and he frowned and muttered, "Bitch stole my car."

"I'll take you, then," Castiel replied, standing as well and stepping toward Dean. He hesitated only briefly before reaching out and taking Dean by the elbow. His grip was feather-light and had none of the self-assured strength Dean remembered from when I-heart-your-personal-space Castiel had taken him from the green room to Chuck's house, but he figured even this little bit of contact was a step for bubble-angel Castiel and made sure to hold himself still.

Then he became far too distracted by all the glorious scents of breads and pastries to worry about the extremes of Castiel's personal space issues. Castiel had taken him not to a local bakery, but to one that was two states away. Dean recognized it because he'd dragged Sam around this very bakery only a week ago. Now he snorted and dragged Castiel around the place instead (or rather, he bee-lined to whatever happened to catch his eye or nose at the moment and Castiel seemed content to just watch and follow him around) and bought slices and samples of whatever he could hold. When he couldn't hold any more, he made Castiel hold all of it instead (Dean didn't believe in shopping baskets) and bought more. At first he would turn to Castiel and ask whether he wanted this or that, but Castiel only ever tilted his head at Dean or smiled indulgently, so eventually Dean gave up asking and just picked up anything he thought Castiel might like.

Well over half an hour later, Dean finally turned to Castiel with a grin on his face and two shopping bags in each hand and said, "Let's go." This time Castiel didn't hesitate, and he rested his hand on Dean's shoulder, though he stood almost an arm's length away.

"You gotta try the caramel apple pie first," Dean said as soon as they were back in the motel. He set the bags on the table, grabbed two forks from the kitchenette and poured two glasses of milk, and handed one of each to Castiel. Then he sat and went digging through the bags to find the slice of pie. Castiel sat across from him and peered at his glass of milk.

Dean had only bought one slice or sample of everything in the interests of letting Castiel try as wide a selection of delicious things as possible, but he didn't mind sharing and he doubted Castiel would, either. Maybe that wasn't very manly and it certainly wasn't something Dean would do with another guy, but for whatever reason Castiel wasn't "another guy" to him. He was an angel, and petty little rules of social etiquette seemed inconsequential where he was concerned. Or maybe Dean just couldn't be bothered to try to maintain some kind of macho image in front of someone who could see everything and wouldn't judge anything.

Either way, he found the slice of caramel apple pie and set it on the table between them with a flourish. "Dig in, Cas."

It took them the better part of an hour to work their way through all the pies, cheesecakes, pastries, cookies, eclairs, and everything else because Castiel always chewed so damned slowly and thoughtfully. He didn't say much, so Dean judged his opinions on whether or not he smiled. Dean learned that anything with raspberries or chocolate was guaranteed to please (and in fact Castiel's favorite seemed to be the white chocolate raspberry cheesecake because that one actually got a tiny porn noise, though he also enjoyed the raspberry and chocolate croissants quite a bit), blueberry pie and coffee cake were also angel-approved, fruity things in general were pretty good (Dean always suspected he was a fruity angel), black forest cheesecake was fun because it left dark crumbs on Castiel's lip, and nuts weren't a huge hit. However, they were okay when paired with chocolate, as evidenced by the pleased look on Castiel's face when he tried the chocolate almond biscotti. Oh, and Castiel loved caramel.

Dean was more than full by the time they'd finished, and he leaned heavily back in his chair, lazy and satisfied. Castiel, on the other hand, gave no indication that he couldn't just keep on eating and eating forever, and Dean was mildly jealous. "Do you just smite food out of existence as soon as it hits your stomach or something?" he asked. "'Cause that's not fair, you should do the same to me and then we could spend the rest of our probably short lives eating. I'll buy it, you smite it, what do you say? We could try everything in the world."

Castiel actually smirked a little and pointed out, "You would still require sleep, though, so the fact that I can eat more wouldn't change."

"Ingrate," Dean muttered, making a face.

Suddenly Castiel glanced down at the empty boxes and bags on the table and then back up at Dean, all sincerity and big, blue eyes. "I am not ungrateful, Dean," he said softly. "Thank you."

"Hey, it was a joke," Dean shrugged, though he knew Castiel wasn't thanking him for baked goods. And that, well, that warmed him too. (And his ears.)

After a few moments of content silence, Castiel said wistfully, "I would love to try everything in the world with you."

Dean blinked, wished for one traitorous moment that it was Sam who had said that instead, and then smiled because it was Castiel and that was good too. "There's always tomorrow," he replied.

Castiel's eyes slid to the side and he watched the world outside the window behind Dean. "What if there isn't a tomorrow?" he asked.

And Dean would be lying if he said he'd never wondered the same thing, but he also knew that there was no point to wondering such things because that way led to madness. Even foolish optimism and hope was better than none at all, and he waited until Castiel looked at him again before saying lightly, "I'll take you to the candy store tomorrow, Cas."

Castiel hesitated and his gaze flickered away, but when it returned, he seemed to decide to trust Dean because he nodded and said, "Alright."

"So," Dean said with a lopsided smile, "feel like watching cartoons?"

***

Dean was in the middle of explaining to Castiel why Tom and Jerry could be friends even though Tom kept trying to eat Jerry when his phone rang.

It was Sam, but when Dean picked up, it wasn't Sam. It was Jo, but technically it wasn't Jo, either. "I hear you've been looking for me," Jo's voice said, coyly.

"What have you done to Sam?" Dean growled, forgetting, even, to be relieved that Jo was still alive in his sudden fear and rage.

"He's fine," Jo replied easily. "Come and get them both."

Dean didn't even hesitate. "Where?"

He could almost hear the demon bitch smile on the other end of the line, and it made him grind his teeth. "You passed an abandoned warehouse on the way into town; it's red, do you remember it? We've set up shop here. Oh," she added cheerfully, "and we'll be expecting you in the next three minutes. I know it's a little bit of a walk, but your pet angel should be able to help you out there. If you two aren't here in three, I'll snap my own neck."

Dean froze, and she hung up before he could reply. His blood was cold, and he was terrified of turning to look at Castiel, but he swallowed and forced himself to anyway. Castiel hadn't moved a hair from where he'd been sitting a foot away from Dean on the couch with his eyes trained on the television, but he was tense all over and his fear seemed almost to crackle around him, like Dean might be electrocuted by it if he tried to touch him. He knew, then, that he couldn't ask Castiel to do this. He would find a way to save Sam and exorcise the demon from Jo before it managed to hurt her on his own, he had to. "I have to go," Dean said thickly, looking away from Castiel and standing to get his things.

"I'm coming with you," Castiel told him when Dean was ready to go, and there was a tiny, barely-there tremor in his voice, but when Dean looked back, Castiel was standing behind him and looking as resolute as ever.

"Cas, no, they'll--" Dean stopped, bit his lip, and shook his head. It wasn't even a matter of not asking Castiel to do it anymore; Dean couldn't let him, not when it was so obviously a trap and they had god knew what in store for Castiel, who was still hurting from last time. "Stay here," he ordered, hating himself a little for doing it but doing it nonetheless.

Castiel narrowed his eyes dangerously. "No."

"Cas--"

"It is my choice, Dean," he said, so imperiously that Dean snapped his mouth closed and shut up. Part of him was relieved that Castiel wasn't listening to him, both because it meant Castiel was finally starting to think for himself and because it heightened Jo's chances of survival, but he was still more than worried, and Castiel added reassuringly, "I will be fine."

Dean didn't know whether or not Castiel actually believed that, but it made his heart hurt and he shook his head once, helplessly. "Cas, don't," he tried one last time, softly and a little desperately.

It made Castiel hesitate, but then he said, "You promised to take me to the candy store tomorrow, remember?"

Before Dean could reply, Castiel stepped toward him and wrapped a hand around his forearm. His grip was tight this time, almost painfully so, and Dean didn't know if it was meant to be a reassuring squeeze or if Castiel was just that terrified, but he didn't get a chance to ask because a moment later they were standing outside the red warehouse. Unlike the abandoned police station Dean had first found Castiel in, the outside of the warehouse was unmarked, and Dean only hoped that was a good sign.

Castiel let go of his arm and stepped in front of him, his long strides purposeful and unafraid. The double doors of the warehouse flew open before him, and Dean caught himself thinking that he'd never seen one of Castiel's impressive entrances from the outside before. Then his head filled with worried thoughts about Sam and Castiel and Jo, and he hurried to Castiel's side, knuckles white around the handle of Ruby's knife.

They walked in together, and stopped in their tracks together. Castiel drew a sharp breath. The first person Dean saw was Jo. The second was Zachariah. There was another angel who wore a white man in his fifties and an expensive-looking suit (he reminded Dean of Rod Blagojevich), and Sam was nowhere to be seen.

For a moment shock and fury almost threatened to blind Dean as he glared at Zachariah, and he would have given almost anything to be able to stab that fucking smirk in. But what he said was, "I should've known it was you, you balding, two-faced asswipe."

"Miss me?" Zachariah asked, quite jovially.

Dean sneered. "I knew Lucifer had your balls in a jar, but working with demons? Really?"

Beside him, Castiel said quietly, "She's an angel." Dean turned to look at him incredulously, but even as he did so, he realized how much sense it made. They'd been searching and searching but they'd been looking in all the wrong places and avoiding anything that so much as smelled of angel, so of course they hadn't found her. The thought that angels would possess unwilling vessels to keep them hostage -- well, Dean couldn't say he was surprised anymore, but it disgusted him.

Then he stopped thinking about that, because Jo and the other angel suddenly appeared on either side of Castiel, and the Blago-lookalike shoved Dean out of his way. They took hold of one of Castiel's arms each, and Castiel jerked and made a noise of surprised fear, eyes wide and breathing too hard and struggling too desperately. They only crowded him more and tightened their grips in response, and it looked like it hurt, and Castiel looked so panicked--

"Let him go!" Dean snarled, and even though he knew his knife was useless against angels, he stabbed the one who'd shoved him right in the throat. It distracted the bastard for a moment, at least, and Dean reached out instinctively to grab hold of Castiel's wrist even though he had no idea what to do with it. Castiel flinched at the contact, but then he looked from Dean's hand on his wrist up to Dean's gaze and his eyes seemed to focus and lose some of their wild fear. Then he stopped struggling and lowered his gaze to the floor in a gesture of hopeless defeat.

"Cas--" Dean breathed, candy stores and tomorrows flickering past his thoughts, but the angel he'd stabbed had already pulled the knife out of his throat and he shoved Dean away from Castiel again, harder this time, breaking his grip on Castiel's wrist in the process and sending him sprawling a few feet away. Dean scrambled to his feet and ran at them again, but all three of them had gone and he ran through empty air.

He stopped, helplessly and furiously, took a deep breath, and turned slowly to face Zachariah. It was just the two of them now, and Zachariah smiled at Dean's glare of abject hatred. "Ready to talk business?" he asked glibly.

"Where's Sam? And Cas?" Dean ground out.

"They're safe," Zachariah assured him. "And they'll stay safe as long as you're a good boy." Dean's hackles rose even more at the threat, and Zachariah chuckled. "It's no use, Dean. And don't expect your pal Lucifer to come to the rescue again, either." Dean was caught off guard for a moment, and Zachariah added, "Ah, yes, we know all about your little date with the devil last night. Knew he'd lead us straight to you if we tailed him for long enough." He winked here before he continued, "Now that you've met him, though, I would have thought you'd be pleased to see me. After all, you can't defeat him on your own."

Dean glowered some more, but it was all he could do and he knew it. "What do you want?" he spat, hating himself for letting Sam get caught, hating himself for letting Castiel get caught, and hating that he had no choice but to do what this son of a bitch wanted.

"That's my boy," Zachariah said with a broad smile. "All I want is for you to swear your obedience again. But since you've proven you're not exactly a man of your word, we're going to make it a little more formal this time, shall we?" Dean's heart sank with dread and it felt a lot like when he'd sold his soul to Hell, but he couldn't see a way out of this, not if he wanted Sam and Castiel to be alright. Zachariah held out his hand, and Ruby's knife, which the other angel had dropped to the floor once he'd pulled it out of his throat, flew into it. "This won't hurt much, I promise." When Zachariah walked toward him and smiled again, his teeth gleamed white.

Dean clenched his fists at his sides until his knuckles turned white and he was trembling from it, and said, "Fine."

Part 6